Jenna's Cowboy Hero (7 page)

“This all looks good. Have the two of you ordered?”

“We have.” Adam watched the two women, wondering what else they could cook up, and trying to calculate how much this would cost him. He'd transferred money to the camp account this morning, preparing himself for the inevitable.

“You do know that Jess is stirring up trouble, right?” Vera looked at Jenna, but the words were for Adam, and he knew it.

“He stopped by my house,” Jenna answered for him.

“I was afraid he might. He's a mess, that man. He's just bored and lonely since Lucy passed.”

“But he can't stop the camp, Vera.” Jenna shook her head. “I'll talk him out of it.”

Adam let them talk, let them plan, but a part of him thought about the relief it would be if Jess Lockhart managed to stop the camp from becoming a reality. He could sell the land and go back to Atlanta, without guilt, without anyone to blame him. He would have tried.

Unfortunately they were talking about ordering food, and that meant, for the time being, he wasn't going anywhere.

 

Adam was on the phone with Will when cars started rolling up the drive two days after he and Jenna had ordered food from the grocery store. He watched from the kitchen window, amazed by the people, and by the woman who had pulled this off. Her truck was the first in the line of vehicles pulling to a stop out front.

“What's up?” Will's voice reminded him that he was on the phone.

“The help we arranged on our trip to town has arrived. It's like someone called in the cavalry.”

“Imagine that.” Humor laced Will's tone, and a little of that I-told-you-so attitude was evident. “Adam, this is going to be a good thing, a gold star on your résumé.”

Adam walked out the front door. It was already hot and the humidity in the air felt like it might be hitting a hundred and five percent.

“I'm a little old for gold stars, don't you think?”

“You have enough demerits. A gold star won't hurt when we go in for that job interview.”

Demerits. Things he'd done that he regretted. Scuffles, too many late nights, too much hard living. For the last few years he'd stayed away from those places, things that could get him into trouble. People didn't remember the good Adam; they kept going back to the wild, twentysomething Adam.

“You got the appointment set up?” He brought it back to the job, not the past.

“It's set up. But let me tell you, it wasn't easy. These guys appreciate that your name will draw viewers to any program you're broadcasting, but they don't want bad publicity on their watch.”

“Is that a warning?” He leaned against the rail of the porch and watched as Jenna got out of her truck. The boys weren't with her again. He felt a strange twist that could have been disappointment.

He hadn't expected to miss those two kids. He told himself he should be glad they weren't there, getting into trouble, finding snakes. Or eating bugs. He smiled.

“Not a warning,” Will said, “just a word of caution to keep out of trouble.”

“You know I'll stay out of trouble. What trouble can a guy get into in Dawson, Oklahoma?”

“I'm sure there's trouble to be found.”

Trouble. Adam's gaze lingered on Jenna Cameron as
she got out of her truck. He'd met trouble before and she looked like the real deal. She looked like a cowgirl that could get under a man's skin and make him think about promises, and forever. If a man was so inclined. He wasn't.

He had dated a lot. He hadn't treated the women badly. He hadn't hurt anyone. He'd just kept it simple and protected himself from entanglements and women who wanted to use him.

Or at least that's the life he'd lived for the last few years. Since Paula. He'd never admit she broke his heart. He could admit she'd temporarily broken his bank account. For a few months he'd really thought he'd found the woman who loved him, not his career, not the spotlight.

He'd been wrong.

Jenna walked up to the sedan that parked next to her truck. Adam slipped his phone back into his pocket, wondering if he'd ended his call with Will. Jenna nodded in his direction and smiled a faint smile. As he crossed the lawn, she headed toward him, halting once.

“Help has arrived.” She waved her arm to include the cars and trucks that had lined up in the drive, some pulling off into the grass to park.

“Yes, this definitely looks like help.” He turned at the sound of a tractor heading in their direction.

“That would be Clint with his Brush Hog. It'll get this place mowed in no time.”

A tractor with a mower that would cut swaths a good five feet wide. He liked that idea. But the wheels in his mind were turning as he watched people get out of their cars.

“What was that look for?” Jenna's hand slipped through his arm and he didn't object. He looked away, pretending not to notice that she leaned against him, her grip on his arm tightening.

“What look?” he said, pasting a smile in place of the frown she must have noticed.

“The I'm-about-to-get-taken-to-the-cleaners look.”

Had she really seen that in his expression? Had he gotten that cynical? He looked down, and he smiled because she was smiling at him. But he
had
gotten that cynical. He did expect to be used. The reality of that thought knotted in his stomach.

He didn't like seeing himself in a way he hadn't seen himself before. He didn't like looking at himself through Jenna Cameron's eyes.

“I had a budget for this place and the budget is pretty much used up, thanks to Billy,” he admitted.

“Adam, this is a community and what you're doing will help kids here as well as outside the community. We're all here to be a part of that, no strings. Not for you, but for those kids.”

“Ouch.”

“Ah, did that bruise your ego?”

“Only a little.”

“Do you really need for this to be all about you?”

“You are about the most scrappy female I've ever met. No, I don't need for this to be about me. I'm just…”

“It's okay. Now you know that we're just here to help, so let's get busy. Pastor Todd is going to be a big help. He was a youth minister for years and organized retreats and camps.”

She nodded toward the pastor who had gotten out of his car. Jenna's hand slipped off his arm and she took a few steps, then waited for him to join her. Time to get started. Time to be involved in this camp and this community.

Six months ago, when he'd undertaken this venture, it had been Billy's camp and Adam's money. It had been about a tax write-off and something good on his
résumé. He wouldn't have to show up, except once in a while for a photo opportunity.

And here he was, in charge.

No, not really in charge. He was the owner, but Jenna Cameron was definitely in charge.

 

Jenna couldn't stop smiling as she watched people getting out of their cars. The men had tool boxes, the women had cleaning supplies. She was so proud of her church, her community. She could think that now, with troubled years behind her and turbulent waters long under the bridge.

Ten-year-old Jenna had avoided these people like the plague. They were the people who had stopped by with casseroles when her mom died, or had pulled up in the drive and honked on Sunday mornings, wanting her to attend church and then driving away with Clint when she would no longer go, not in torn jeans and holey sneakers, tangled rats in her hair.

She had listened to her father talk about self-righteous people wanting to look down their noses at the Cameron family and turn them into a charity case. She had groomed resentment like a well-tended garden and fought hard against everyone, including God. She had fought against the cookies, hugs and stories of Jesus.

All the while, these people really were waiting to love her. And now they were here to help Adam, and to help kids they didn't even know.

“You okay?” Adam asked. The velvet and thunder tones in his voice sent a chill down her spine.

“I'm fine, why?”

“You stopped walking. You seem a little down today.”

She looked up, meeting a deep look on his face that didn't tease. That look said he understood because maybe
he'd felt this way himself. Of course he had; it was the look she'd noticed in his eyes when a game ended and reporters circled him, wanting to know how it felt to be him.

She had always thought that maybe it didn't feel as good as the world imagined. He was still waiting for an answer to his question.

“I'm fine, a little sore today.” She rarely admitted that, because the words, once spoken, made it real.

Flashbacks happened, sometimes even in the bright sunlight of a summer day in Oklahoma. Sometimes she could smell the smoke, the blood, the dark mustiness of that closet where she'd been hidden.

Sometimes in the dark of night she wanted to scream for daylight.

Sometimes she wanted her life back, the hope and promise of marriage and love, a family. And then she fought it all back and she remembered faith and meeting God in that dark room, knowing He wouldn't let her down, believing He would get her home. Home to her family, to her boys.

He had. And she hadn't been let down. She could get through anything.

“You're fine.” Adam's tone said he didn't believe her. “Pastor Todd, good to see you again.”

He was good at pushing past pain, too. She knew a kindred spirit when she met one. He was smiling again, letting go of their conversation.

“Good to see you, too. I've got delivery dates for the food. The kitchen help is going to get the pans and dishes organized and we'll make out a work schedule.” Pastor Todd fell in next to Adam and they, along with the group of church members, moved toward the kitchen.

Vera joined them, in jeans and a T-shirt today, not her
customary smock apron. “I've got a schedule for the kitchen. I won't be able to be here to help, but I've got a sister, Louisa, who has helped me a lot in the restaurant. She's going to be in charge of cooking. Charm Jones is going to be in charge of servers and dishes. They'll make sure you have plenty of people on hand.”

“Okay.” Adam's tight smile didn't faze Vera. She had a list and she was ticking things off.

“And Gordon Flynn is bringing beef over from the packing plant. He's giving you a good deal on half a beef.”

“Half a beef?” Adam's smile disappeared.

“Oh, honey, that's not all,” Vera continued, as if she didn't notice his surprise. Or was it outrage? “We're also having chicken one night, and then there'll be sausage and eggs for breakfast.”

A heavy sigh from Adam. Jenna felt a little bad for him. He was probably envisioning his savings account dwindling, or maybe felt as if the community had hijacked him and his camp.

“Adam, a lot of the cost is being covered by the church.”

That got his attention. He glanced from her to Pastor Todd.

“We want to help.” Pastor Todd nodded in the direction of the chapel. “This camp is something the area needs. And the community should be a part of it. Our churches need to be a part of reaching out to the children who come here.”

“That doesn't mean you get out of the work. We'll need your help hanging the mini blinds.” Jenna nudged Adam with her elbow, hoping to ease the tightened lines around his mouth. “You probably won't even need a ladder.”

A
dam stood on the ladder, on the second floor of the dorm, attaching the first mini blind on the window. The older woman standing on the floor next to the ladder held the tools and the hardware for the blinds. She made a noise and he thought she might have said something.

“I'm sorry?” He looked down and the ladder shook a little. He held his breath and waited for it to stop weaving. Or maybe he was weaving, not the ladder. He started to close his eyes but knew from experience that would only make it worse.

Worse, being on the second floor, looking out the window at the ground. It seemed to be fifty feet down, and he knew it wasn't. He focused on the floor. On the woman helping him. She shrugged and her brows arched and drew in.

He was sure she'd said something.

“What?” She didn't smile.

He started to work again and again heard her mutter. “Did you say something?”

“No, of course not.”

“Am I doing something wrong?”

She bit down on her lip and shook her head and that didn't convince him. “No, you're fine.”

That tone. Of course he was doing something wrong. He wasn't a handyman. He didn't fix things. He played football. His home-repair skills were pretty limited.

“Mrs. Glenn, if I'm doing something wrong, please tell me.” He counted to ten because he was about to lose his loose grip on what patience he had left. The lady watching him, gray hair permed into tight curls and T-shirt stating that everything she did was done for Jesus, was the woman pushing him to the end of his rope. And occasionally bumping the ladder he didn't really want to be standing on.

“Okay, I don't mean to be bossy, because this is your camp and your dorm, but it would be better if you put those blinds on the inside of the window frame, not on the outside. It'll just look a lot nicer.”

“It isn't easier, though.”

“Well, no, of course not.” She frowned and shook her head. “Life isn't always about taking the easy way.”

One, two, three, four, five
…Counting wasn't helping. Adam closed his eyes and felt like he was swaying, about to fall. He grabbed the ladder and sucked in a deep breath.

“Are you afraid of heights?” The pleasant voice of Mrs. Glenn, sounding a little amused and tinkly. He got the impression that his fear made her day.

“No, of course not.” He looked down and her eyes had widened and her smile beamed.

“I think you are.” She pointed to the ground, and he knew she'd been waiting for an opportunity like this one. “Let me do that and you hold the tools.”

“I really can do this.” He unscrewed the bracket that he'd put on the outside of the window frame. He was
a man. He could conquer a ladder. He could hang a mini blind.

He could grunt like Tim Allen, if need be.

“Of course you can.” She backed away from the ladder.

Adam gave up. He climbed down the wobbly ladder and, when his feet touched the ground, he sighed, and he hadn't meant to sigh. Man, he hated ladders. And Mrs. Glenn loved that fact. She smiled as she handed him the tools she'd been holding.

“We'll have this done in no time. Now, you get the blinds out of that box while I get these brackets attached.”

Screws went between her teeth, the tools slid into her pockets and she was up the ladder, happy as a lark. No more muttering. No more disapproving looks. If he'd known it was that easy to get her approval, he never would have gone up that ladder.

To prove he wasn't totally inept, he started taking blinds out of boxes and handing her what she asked for. They were on the fourth window when footsteps behind him caught his attention.

“Lunchtime.” Jenna's soft drawl.

“Already?” He glanced over his shoulder, at the woman standing behind him, hair in a ponytail and clear gloss on her lips.

“Yep. Food is in the kitchen. Looks like you're getting the blinds up with no problem.” Jenna smiled at Mrs. Glenn, who stood on the ladder, precarious and not caring.

“We have a system that works well.” Mrs. Glenn pulled a screw out of her mouth and pushed it into the bracket.

Adam waited for her to mention the fact that she had discovered his fear. Instead she finished the window and climbed down. She set the tools back in the box and dusted her hands off on her jeans.

“You're doing great.” Jenna shot him a look that he ignored.

“We should probably head for the kitchen.” Mrs. Glenn was ahead of them, nearly to the door. “I have sugar issues. I need to eat every three hours.”

“Of course, I'd forgotten.” Jenna smiled. “We're heading that way, too.”

But slower than Mrs. Glenn, Adam realized. Mrs. Glenn obviously needed to eat soon. He watched as she hightailed it across the newly mowed lawn, in the direction of the metal building that housed the kitchen.

He liked the layout of the camp. There was a central yard. On the west side of the lawn was the barn and corral, east was the kitchen, south was the dorm. Behind the dorm an open-air chapel had been built.

Horses grazed in the fields, tails swishing to brush away the flies. He'd forgotten what it was like here, in Oklahoma. He'd forgotten the rolling fields, the smell of freshly mowed hay. He'd forgotten the way the setting sun touched the horizon and turned everything gold in the evenings.

It didn't matter, though, because he wasn't staying.

“The beds are being put together and the bathrooms are clean.” Jenna offered the progress report as they crossed the lawn. He'd forgotten the sweetness of a country girl on a summer afternoon. “Willow brought the boys by. She has to take the baby to the pediatrician.”

“Is the baby sick?”

“Not really, just a cough. But Willow's a first-time parent and she's a little worried. She lost her hearing from meningitis.”

“That happens?”

“Not often, but it can.” She limped next to him, and
he wasn't thinking about Willow, but about the woman at his side. And he knew she wouldn't want to discuss what was happening with her. He knew, because he thought they might be a lot alike.

He touched her hand, by accident, and her fingers brushed his, but then moved away, almost as if she had considered holding his hand and wouldn't. And she shouldn't, not if she wanted to protect her heart. He knew that as well as anyone.

The aroma wafting from the open windows of the kitchen were a welcome distraction. He opened the door and motioned Jenna inside.

“Where are the boys?” He glanced around the open room with the long tables and the open kitchen area with a counter full of warmers and steaming food. He had expected sandwiches today, not a buffet.

“They ate with Willow. She took them to town for pizza. But they also had half a peanut butter sandwich a little while ago. Now they're outside, playing.”

“Oh, so are they okay outside?”

She pointed out the window. The boys were playing in the yard with trucks, obviously okay. “We can see them from here. If they leave that spot, we'll worry.”

At that age, he wouldn't have stayed in one spot. He kind of figured the twins wouldn't be there for long. It wasn't his business, though. He grabbed a tray and followed the woman whose business it was.

“Stop looking out the window.” She had her back to him, so how did she know? She turned and smiled. “I can almost feel you tensing up back there, wondering what they'll get into. They're almost six, they're old enough to play in the yard, especially since we're right here, watching them.”

“I know that.”

“You're going to be a nervous wreck by the time this camp is over.”

“Which is why I should just sign it over to the church and be done with it.” He plopped potatoes on his plate and drenched them with gravy.

“That would be the easy way out, wouldn't it?”

Of course it would. Watching her, he wondered if she had ever opted for the easy way.

“Yes, it would be,” he admitted, and followed her to a table that was already crowded. He wanted a corner booth and no one staring. He wasn't going to get that either. From across the table she smiled at him.

He glanced out the window, at the boys.

Jenna tapped his hand. “They're still there.”

“Yes, they are.” He cut his meat loaf and dipped it in gravy. “This is good.”

“Vera's secret recipe. Don't ask what she puts in it. She doesn't mind sharing the packets of seasoning she makes up, but she won't tell you what's in it.”

“No MSG, right?”

She looked up and shook her head. “You're a mess. Just eat.”

He ate a few more bites, and then glanced out the window again. Jenna followed his look and her eyes widened.

“They're gone,” he announced, standing as she stood. “I'll go check on them.”

“I can do it.” She headed for the door and he followed.

The boys were nowhere to be seen. They couldn't have disappeared that fast. Adam left Jenna standing in the yard and hurried toward the stable and the horses. That's when he saw them.

“They're on the pony.” Jenna had seen them at the same time and her anxious shout didn't help to calm his nerves. She was the one who didn't let things bother her.

But bothered was a good way to feel when he knew the boys were in serious trouble. They were on a spotted pony, bareback and with nothing but a rope around the animal's neck. How in the world had they managed to get in this much trouble, this quick?

And they didn't even seem to know the trouble they were in. They had sticks and were obviously fast on the trail of bad guys, the little horse obliging them by picking up his legs in a fast trot. The boys were bouncing and holding tight with sun-browned legs wrapped around the pony's round little belly.

“Timmy! David!” Jenna had caught up with him, her chest heaving a little with the exertion. “Stop that pony now!”

The boys waved.

“They're going to get thrown.” Adam couldn't help but growl the words.

“They're not.” But she didn't sound as positive as he would have liked. “Let's walk slowly and not scare the pony. The boys know how to ride, they'll be okay.”

Walk slowly, don't run and grab the boys off the pony. He wanted to take her advice, but he couldn't. “I'm sorry, I've got to get them off her.”

The boys were ripping across the lawn on the horse. Jenna grabbed his arm. “Okay, go get them, but be careful not to spook the pony.”

The boys were bouncing along on the back of the pony. The door to the kitchen had opened and Adam knew they had an audience. Pastor Todd and the church members who were still there had joined Jenna.

Adam walked fast, toward the pony and the boys. The little pony stopped and ducked her head to pull at a bite of red clover. As soon as she had it in her mouth, she took off again. Adam was starting to think she was in
on the orneriness. She wasn't a victim of those boys, she was the coconspirator.

“Lady Bug, here, come here.” He didn't shout, but the name got the attention of the spotted pony. She flicked her ears and looked at him, but then her ears went back. “Guys, pull back on your rope and stop her.”

The twins nodded, but they didn't look convinced. They smiled at him as if they were having the time of their lives. And he had to wonder if he wouldn't have felt the same way. A smile and then a chuckle sneaked up on him. It was harder to be stern the next time he called out to them.

“Come on, when she stops again, you guys climb off. You're scaring your mom.” And ten years off his life.

David glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact with Adam. The kid looked a little worried. Either he didn't want to get in trouble, or he was afraid of getting thrown. His blond hair was tousled and his little face was smudged with dirt and peanut butter. Adam was nearly close enough to grab the pony.

And then she lunged, Timmy encouraging her with a foot tap to her side. Adam ran, because this was no longer a game. He caught up with the little mare just short of a stand of cedars with low limbs that would brush the boys off if the pony decided to keep going. Rather than grabbing her, he grabbed the twins off her back.

They hugged his neck and he took a deep breath. Man, he was out of shape, or maybe it was fear. His lungs heaved for oxygen and his heart raced. He hugged the boys, one on each hip, and turned back in the direction they'd come. He could see Jenna standing with Pastor Todd, saw her hands come together and then cover her face.

One of the other men headed in the direction of the pony, a bucket of grain in his hand.

“You boys shouldn't do that to your mom. From now on, if you want to ride, you ask. You don't get on a horse without permission. You could get hurt doing that.”

“I told you so,” David muttered and glared, gray eyes narrowed at Timmy.