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They had to.
fourteen
“So,you’re going to take a bunch of city slickers into the north woods?” Grandpa set his coffee down on the bakery’s bistro table Monday afternoon. Twenty-four hours in and the plan was molding into shape.
“Yes.” Grayson looked up from the notebook he’d been scratching lists into. Supplies. Food. Gear.
“For three days?” Grandpa folded his arms. “That’s quite an undertaking.”
Grayson leaned back in the bakery chair and put down his pen. “Beth needs this.”
“Seems like you need it too.” Grandpa’s eyes stayed on him. “I know that camp means a lot to you.”
He shrugged. Maybe. Or maybe it was starting to terrify him just a little. “Beth’s already reached out to half the families, and all have signed up.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It was one thing to plan it as this vague idea, brainstorming in the barnyard. Now it’s updating payments, getting new waivers, food arrangements, coordinating all the gear for that many people. Noah and I will pack in the tents the day before and get those set up. There’s an access road near the campsite. It’s a lot to come together.”
“I expect it is. You’ll do fine,” Grandpa said. “Pray and trust.”
Trusting God with outcomes wasn’t in Grayson’s nature.
“You two about done? I’m ready to put Grayson to work,” Robin called from the counter.
“I suppose.” Grandpa stood. “I need to get going. I told your grandma I’d be back before dinner.” He put a hand on Grayson’s shoulder. “Grayson, it will come together exactly as it needs to.”
Oh. Okay. Grandpa’s words mingled with Anne’s.
He carries me through any and every hard thing life brings.
He was still mulling Grandpa’s words when he joined Robin in the bakery kitchen. She was rolling out fresh croissant dough, wearing her bakery apron, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Grayson set his notebook on the back counter. Now to persuade Robin to help out with the trail ride meals.
Robin grabbed one of her knives and cut the dough. “Can you cut this into triangles?” She demonstrated the first several slices. “Once those are cut, pull away the excess and roll the croissants.”
“Sure.” He followed her directions, waving off her quality control when she leaned over him and tidied his lines.
“Well, you’ve got to do it right.”
Right. Except his thoughts were elsewhere. Campfire. S’mores. Kiss. Ugh.
“Was that a groan?”
Grayson met Robin’s squinty gaze. “Uh…yeah. I guess.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Nope.” He kept cutting and rolling.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He placed several croissants onto the baking tray. “About what?”
“Vivien came in yesterday afternoon and mentioned how much Beth is enjoying working at the camp.” Robin gave him a look that was filled with all kinds of accusation and assumption. “With you.”
Leave it to Vivien. “It’s her job. She likes that I’m there to fill in.” He swallowed. Hoped Beth hadn’t told Vivien about their kiss—because if she had, who knew who else might know by now.
