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John smiled. “It’s good to see you laugh. We should all laugh more. It’s good medicine.”
“Seen much of Dan?”
“We’ve had dinner a few times.” At their upraised eyebrows Sarah’s cheeks warmed. “No, nothing like that. Just pizza, some fish he caught.” She shrugged, focused on slicing carrots for the salad. “He’s nice.”
“Maybe he should join us for dinner tonight.”
“Aren’t you both tired? Anyway, he said he’d be busy with some camp this weekend.”
“Oh, that’s right, the one for disadvantaged kids. Every year he sponsors some kids from the city to come and have a real camping experience.”
“What, like tents and things?”
Ange shuddered. “Yes. I think ‘roughing it’ is generous. ThinkSurvivor.”
“That sounds horrible! And he chooses to do that?” Sarah’s nose wrinkled. “Camping is for the birds.”
The next dayproved nice and quiet, a good chance to relax, read, and more fully recover. Mid-afternoon, John got a phone call and called Sarah’s name. “It’s for you.” He grinned, handing her his cell phone. “It’s Dan.”
She frowned as excitement trickled through her veins. “Hello?”
“Hey, Sarah. Uh, I’ve a really big favor to ask. I told you about this camp I’m involved in, and…well, we have a problem.”
Her stomach tensed. “Mmm?”
“There’s been some kind of mix-up.” He sighed. “We’ve a girl here called Georgia. Her name was down as George, so we didn’t realize she was a girl until she got here. She’s the only girl, a cousin of one of the kids…”
“And?” She closed her eyes.Please don’t get to the point. Please don’t get to the point.
“And we’d hate to send her home. But she can’t stay unless there’s a female counselor here, and I was hoping—”
“No.”
“It’s only two nights. And it means she can stay. Otherwise we’ll have to drive her home, and she’ll be so disappointed.”
“I hate camping. I do not do camping, Daniel.”
The silence at the end of the phone spoke volumes.
She sighed. “Can’t you ask someone else?”
“Not who’s had experience working with teenagers and is only thirty minutes away.” A beat. “I suppose I could ask Ange.”
As much as every fiber in her wanted to screamYes, ask Ange!, she’d witnessed her aunt’s exhaustion. Camping with a bunch of teenagers wouldn’t help. “No, don’t do that. She’s really tired.” Sarah bit her lip. The seconds ticked away.
“I promise, we’ll make it easy on you. It’s a really beautiful spot.”
“That’s nice, but Ireallydo not like camping. Besides, I’m not great with teenagers these days.” Why she’d ever thought teaching was a God-thing she’d never know. Especially after her last experience with teenagers. To prove a point, she’d gone back to work early—which had proved instead to be the catalyst for her exile to Canada. The students, knowing something of her story, sensing her vulnerability, had acted up so badly that she’d cried. They’d been disciplined, but the entire experience had proved so thoroughly humiliating she hadn’t dared teach again. Her parents had warned her she wasn’t ready, and they’d been right. But she’d been so tired of people’s protectiveness all the time…
“They’re good kids. You’ll have fun.”
“I doubt it.”
“Please?”
His husky plea melted the last bastion of resistance. Just as well he wasn’t here, pleading with his beautiful eyes—she’d have been a goner long ago. She sighed. “Fine. I’ll come. As long as you have zero expectations of my camping proficiency.”
“Zero.”
