Her Rocky Mountain Hope. Mindy Obenhaus
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nice to meet you, Micah.” Daniel shook his hand. “I’m Daniel, and I’m a lot older than you.”
While the staff giggled, the boy simply peered up at Daniel with his snaggletoothed grin.
“You don’t look very old.”
Daniel winked and laid an arm over the boy’s fragile shoulders. “Micah, I have a feeling you and I are going to get along just fine.” He glanced at the man still in the driver’s seat. “You can park over there.” He pointed toward the open area to his right. “Then we’ll get Justin—” he waved the college student forward “—to show you all to the chow hall so we can get Mr. Micah checked in.”
“What about his meds?” Micah’s mother’s smile faltered momentarily, and Blythe noticed the trepidation in her dark eyes. She could only imagine how nervous the woman must be, entrusting the care of her child, who was in the fight of his life, to strangers for an entire week.
“Yes, you’ll take those with you. The medical staff will be there to make sure everything is in order.”
The woman’s quick nod had Daniel dipping his head to catch her gaze.
“Hey, he’ll be fine,” Daniel quietly assured her. “By the time you pick him up on Saturday, Micah will have so many memories to share, he might not stop talking for a week.”
Blythe was taken aback by his thoughtfulness. This tender side of Daniel was unexpected—not at all like the man who’d argued with her yesterday. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, his sensitivity to this mother’s feelings spoke volumes about his character.
“You’re probably right about that. He does like to talk.” Micah’s mother glanced toward her husband and son as the back of the minivan opened to reveal Micah’s bedding and luggage. “I’ve just never been away from him for this long before.”
“Tell you what,” said Daniel.
Blythe watched as Daniel pulled a business card and a pen from his pants pocket.
“Here’s my number.” He jotted it on the back of the card. “If you feel as though you can’t take it anymore, give me a call and I’ll let you know everything he’s been doing.” He handed the card to Micah’s mother.
She accepted it with a relieved smile. “That’s very sweet of you. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The woman had taken the words right out of Blythe’s mind. It was very sweet of him to do that. Daniel genuinely cared. Something she would have scoffed at only a day or two ago.
Gravel crunched under tires, and Blythe turned as an SUV eased into a parking space. Moments later, another family stepped out, this time with a young girl. Blythe, Teri and Allison, the volunteer coordinator, went to greet them.
“Hello!” they said in unison.
Allison bent toward the girl. “Welcome to Camp Sneffels. I’m Allison, and these—” she gestured toward them “—are my friends Blythe and Teri.”
The girl Blythe guessed to be around nine or ten sported post-chemo blond hair and sparkling blue-green eyes. She bashfully looked up at them. “I’m Chloe.”
“We’re so glad you’re here, Chloe.” Allison glanced at her clipboard. “Oh, and how great is this? Blythe is your companion for the week.”
As she looked into the child’s beautiful eyes, Blythe’s heart pounded. Chloe had been entrusted to her for the next week. What if Blythe failed or did something wrong? Even worse, what if she opened her heart?
She looked away. No. She could not—would not—allow that to happen. She’d been capable of suppressing her emotions and keeping people at arm’s length for years. That wasn’t about to change.
Returning her attention to Chloe, she felt something shift inside of her. The angst that had gripped her for the last hour was gone, just like that, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation. Blythe would get to spend the entire week with this beautiful child. Suddenly, she understood why Daniel had been so bummed about the rain. Just the thought of all the fun things she’d get to experience with Chloe sent a wave of excitement racing through her. She was here to make sure Chloe had fun, and that was exactly what Blythe intended to do.
Giving herself a stern shake, she said, “I can hardly wait to get started.” Blythe took the girl’s suitcase from her father, then slipped an arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “We are going to have so much fun this week.” She could do this. She would do this. For Miranda, for Chloe and for every other child with cancer who faced a life of uncertainty. She would see to it that this girl had the best week ever.
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