Not Just Friends. Kate Hoffmann
Читать онлайн книгу.
she reached the main lodge, she noticed that the lights on the wide porch were still on, but the windows were dark. She looked up the hill toward Woodchuck cabin and noticed that Kate had kept a light burning for her there, too.
The cabin slept eleven, ten campers in bunks and the counselor in a comfortable double bed in a separate alcove. It was the only luxury that being a counselor provided. Living 24/7 with ten teenage girls was exhausting. A soft bed and a bit of privacy was an absolute necessity.
Julia grabbed her bags from the back of the car and climbed the rise to the cabin. The woods were so peaceful, the wind rustling in the trees overhead, the sounds of crickets filling the air with a kind of summer concert. She could smell the lake on the breeze.
Julia hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this place. It was easy to get caught up in the chaos of big city living, accepting the stress and the confusion that came with it. But here, all of that fell away and her life became simple again, like it had been when she was younger.
The inside of the cabin was exactly as she’d remembered it, lit by a globe on the ceiling fan. There were brand-new mattresses on the bunks and the counselor’s bed and the place smelled like it had just been scrubbed clean. Kate had thrown open the plank shutters to allow the breeze to pass through and a june bug buzzed against the screen.
It was nearly midnight and Julia was exhausted from the drive. She quickly stripped out of her clothes and pulled on a faded camp T-shirt, leaving her legs bare. If Frannie arrived later, she’d have to settle for one of the bunks. They could flip for the bed tomorrow.
Julia walked over to the first set of bunks, then bent down to peer beneath it. Was her journal still there after all these years? Or had someone found it? Julia sat back on her heels, suddenly bone tired. She’d leave it for tomorrow. After all, it was just a silly account about a boy she didn’t even know anymore.
She pulled the chain on the light. A soft golden glow from the yellow porch bulb still filtered inside, just enough to avoid a stubbed toe. Julia crawled between the cheap cotton sheets and pulled the faded comforter up around her chin with a sigh of contentment. Then she remembered her camp encounters with bats. At least once a summer, a nighttime intruder had driven them from their cabin. She grabbed her tennis racquet and set it on the bed beside her.
As she closed her eyes, Julia let the stress from the ride north fade into sleep. But an image of Adam Sutherland drifted through her head. With a low groan, she rolled over and punched the pillow. She was twenty-nine years old, yet there were times when she still felt like a kid.
BY THE TIME Adam pulled into the narrow driveway for Camp Winnehawkee, it was almost 3:00 a.m. He’d thought about stopping along the way and grabbing a motel room, but he’d been anxious to put the miles behind him and see the camp again.
Yellow lights lined the wide porch of the main lodge and he could see some of the camper cabins deep in the woods. Though most alumni might not appreciate the quiet of the camp at 3:00 a.m., Adam had spent a lot of early morning hours sneaking in and out and avoiding the demerits that came with breaking curfew. By the time he’d made counselor, he knew all the tricks and handed out a large share of the demerits himself.
A lot of Adam’s big life events had happened here at Winnehawkee—his first kiss, his first cigarette, his first sexual experience. He’d lost his virginity on a blanket in the middle of the woods to an older girl from a nearby town. Winnehawkee boasted a wholesome experience, but Adam knew better. He’d used the summers to escape from his parents’ stifling expectations and experience a few of life’s pleasures.
Like many of the kids at camp, he came from a privileged background—his father was the CEO of a venture capital firm and his mother, a North Shore socialite. He’d attended an exclusive prep school in a wealthy Chicago suburb and had been groomed from birth to take over the family business.
After college, Adam had wanted to go his own way, but family pressure had forced him into working for his father. Though it could have brought them closer together, it had only driven them further apart. As he’d grown more and more frustrated with the company’s blind pursuit of profit, his relationship with his father had deteriorated.
Mason and Kate had it right. They wanted to turn Winnehawkee into a place that would help disadvantaged children, not provide summer babysitting services for rich kids from the Chicago suburbs. There was a time when Adam had imagined he might do work that really mattered, but that dream had dissolved under the burden of family obligations and expectations.
But he’d begun to formulate a plan, a plan to simplify his own life. After he helped Mason get the camp on solid financial ground, he’d find a new future for himself, something that didn’t revolve around money and the acquisition of expensive toys. He wasn’t sure what that future would be yet, but he was ready for a big change.
He had enough money in his investment account to live a comfortable life for a number of years. Hell, he could just dump the entire portfolio and donate it to Mason and Kate, and still find a way to make a living. Life just wasn’t about profit and loss … return on investment … acceptable risk. There had to be more to it.
Winnehawkee had been a refuge for him. A place where he could become his own man. Now it was time to pay that forward. What had happened to that idealistic guy he’d once been? He’d bowed to family obligation and then grown used to all the benefits of a big paycheck. He was on the way to becoming his father.
Adam pulled up next to a Subaru wagon with Illinois plates and wondered who else would be spending the week. Though the cabins weren’t the most luxurious accommodations, Adam was looking forward to reliving his younger days. There were beautiful hiking trails to explore around the lake as well as canoeing and swimming. And big campfires at night.
Not knowing what to expect, he’d brought along a sleeping bag and tent, but then noticed a light over the door of one of the cabins. Mason had mentioned inviting a few other guys to help out. Sharing a cabin with them would be much easier than setting up his tent in the dark. He grabbed his overnight bag and headed up the hill. If he could catch a few hours of sleep, he’d be ready to start work first thing in the morning.
The screen door creaked as he pulled it open and he squinted to see inside with only the wash of light from the bulb over the door as illumination. He set his bag down, then sat on the edge of one of the bunks. He hadn’t realized how small they were until now.
Adam glanced over to the small alcove that held the bed for the counselor. Though the bedding looked rumpled, he could lay his sleeping bag down and at least stretch out. He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it behind him. A moment later, he heard a scream. Something hit him on the side of his head and Adam jumped up and spun around.
“Bat. Oh, God, bat.” In the dim light he made out the figure of a woman, flailing a tennis racquet around her head. She made contact again, this time with his forehead.
“Ouch!” he cried. “Stop that. There’s no bat.”
She went still for a moment, then screamed again, tumbling off the far side of the bed and landing with a thump on the floor. Adam searched the cabin for a light switch then finally found the string hanging from the ceiling fan. He pulled it and walked back to the alcove.
She was still there, sitting on the floor, the tennis racquet pulled up against her chest and her hair covering half her face. As their eyes met, he heard her gasp softly. “I’m not a bat,” he said, rubbing his head.
“I—I can see that,” she replied in a feeble attempt to appear unfazed. She slowly got to her feet, tugging at the hem of her T-shirt to cover her bare thighs. When she brushed the hair from her face, he felt a hint of recognition.
The lush mouth was the same as he remembered. And those beautiful dark-lashed eyes that always seemed to be regarding him with disdain. But the mousy brown ponytail was gone, replaced by shoulder-length waves and a caramel blond color. “Jules?” He laughed. “It’s me, Adam Sutherland.”
“Adam,” she said, a nervous smile twitching