by Kaitlyn Rice
Roger wasn’t a winker, so that wink had been Isabel’s first from a man. It had felt like a silent, secret hello, and it had left her glowing for most of the day.
Well. That wink, and memories of his kiss.
She wanted to try another.
But of course, Trevor was busy with the camp, and Angie had started to grow bored with the office routine. Isabel worked harder to entertain her and wondered how things might change after Barbara collected Angie in a couple of days.
If Trevor had free time between sessions, she’d be available. What would happen between them?
The next morning Isabel was alone in the office when the phone rang. She finished tightening the string on the last of her beaded-bell favors, then grabbed it. “Burch Lodge, Isabel speaking.”
“Hello, Iz.”
It was Roger.
Isabel closed her eyes, summoning an image of Roger’s face. “Hi. How are things in Kansas?” she asked.
“Barbara’s home,” he said, speaking of his ex-wife. “Her new husband booked a return flight through the Wichita airport.”
Barbara was supposed to have flown through Denver, to pick up Angie there. “How will Angie get home?”
“That’s why I’m calling,” he said, sighing. “The newlyweds have decided to move to Texas. Barbara’s new husband has family there.”
“Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes,” Roger said. “They’re going to pack more clothes and go house and job hunting. Barbara’s informed me that I should keep the kids until she gets settled.”
Isabel’s heart sank.
“I hate to ask, but could you keep Angie there until I find a way to get her?”
She’d known he was going to say that. “How are you going to find time to come?” she asked. “It’s a day’s drive each way.”
“I know.”
Damn it. Isabel glanced out the office door, to where Angie was skipping rope on the porch.
She didn’t deserve to be treated as if she were a problem. She wasn’t a problem. Isabel had simply been excited at the thought of spending time alone in Colorado—her first independent vacation as an adult woman.
“So what are you going to do?” Isabel asked.
“Would you mind keeping her? Or, I could have my aunt watch her. But I don’t like making Angie go over there.”
She hoped not. The woman had a paddle hanging on a peg in her kitchen, and she hadn’t heard modern-day warnings against corporal punishment. Once, she’d paddled R.J. for leaving the peanut butter jar open.
Perhaps this was fate, preventing Isabel from flirting where she shouldn’t.
“As far as I’m concerned, Angie can stay,” Isabel said. “But I’ll have to run the idea by Darla. I’ll call you.”
After talking with Roger for another minute, Isabel hung up and sat staring at the phone, trying to talk herself out of a bad mood. Here she was again, changing her plans to mesh with what everyone else wanted and needed.
But she wouldn’t send Angie to her great-aunt’s paddle, just so she could indulge in a romance that would eventually lead nowhere.
Trevor lived in Colorado. She lived in Kansas.
She wanted marriage. Kids. A certain future.
Roger had kids she already loved. Perhaps she could give him kissing lessons.
When the phone rang again, she picked it up and forgot she was answering the Burch Lodge phone. “H’lo?”
“Isabel?”
This was Trevor. She felt her tummy flip. “Yes?”
“I ran into a snag out here and could use some help.”
“Darla’s helping Sam out on the property.”
“Your help.”
Why did she know he was going to say that? She’d never been clairvoyant before. She took a deep breath and asked, “What do you need?”
“Not much. Just a bag of powdered milk and a case of dry tuna noodles from the large pantry off the lodge kitchen. We’re packing for our three-nighter.”
“I’ll have to bring Angie,” Isabel warned.
“That’s fine.”
After she hung up, Isabel went out to explain the situation to Angie. Upon hearing that they were needed to carry supplies out to the campers, the little girl rushed inside, acting as if she’d been told they were headed for Disneyland.
“Can I bring it in my Barbie pack?” she asked, bouncing in place beside Isabel.
“Sure.” Isabel helped the little girl strap on the pack, then chuckled at her enthusiastic skipping that lasted all the way to the supply room. Soon, she and Angie had packed the items and started down the tree-lined path to the cabins.
Trevor was standing near the picnic tables, dressed today in a navy shirt and long green pants. He was holding a clipboard, checking some list while talking to a couple of kids. When he saw Isabel and Angie, Trevor separated himself from the group. “Hey, ladies,” he called out.
Isabel stopped on the path in front of him and stood noticing him. His deep green eyes. His luscious chest. His sensual mouth.
He stared at her lips.
She wetted them with her tongue, remembering.
Someone cleared his throat.
Isabel peered beyond Trevor’s shoulder, into Dusty’s pink face. “Hi, Dusty. How are you?” she said, and knew her burning cheeks must match the color of the young man’s.
“Fine.”
“Good.”
Why wasn’t he leaving?
He pointed at the carton of tuna noodles. “Can I take that from you?”
“Oh, here.” She lifted it across.
“Thanks.”
He left, but Isabel had already noticed that several of the younger camp kids had stopped whatever they were doing to watch their leader.
Trevor turned toward the group. “Have you guys met Isabel and Angie?” he asked.
Isabel had recognized a few faces from mail and message deliveries, but she didn’t know all the boys. Their answers confirmed this fact, so Trevor looped an arm around Isabel’s waist and pulled her close. “This is my good friend, Isabel Blume. The half-pint over there is Angie.”
After a chorus of hellos, Trevor directed a teasingly stern look at the few boys who still watched. “Do you want to go on this overnight trip or not?”
Several of them answered in the affirmative.
“Better get those packs loaded, then,” he said, and handed the clipboard to Dusty. “Your counselors will come check them in a few minutes.”
After the kids had returned to their tasks, Trevor tugged Isabel closer and said, “Hey, I’ve missed you. How’ve you been?”
She didn’t have time to answer before Angie broke in. “Mr. Trebor, I carried your bag. See?” She turned around so he could peer inside her backpack. “’Cept I don’t see how it can be milk cuz it feels like that stuff Isabel uses to make Snicker-noodles.”
“Snicker doodles,” Isabel corrected. “Are you thinking of flour?”
“Yep. That white stuff.”
After a final, warm squeeze that left Isabel glowing again, Trevor let go of her waist and pulled the bag from Angie’s backpack. “This is a lot like flour,” he said. “But if you mix this powder with water, you get milk.”
“Can it make chocolate milk?” Angie asked.
“If you add chocolate, I suppose,” he said as he hefted the bag onto a shoulder. “Dry milk doesn’t taste as good as real milk, but it’s a lot easier to carry.”
“I know,” Angie said, her hands on her hips. “I carried it all the way from the pantry.”
“Did you, now?” Trevor said, pivoting to put the milk bag into a large frame pack behind him.
“Where you gonna take your dried-up milk?” Angie asked.
Trevor turned and knelt down in front of Angie, then pointed to the far end of the cabins. “See that path, between the two tallest trees?”
Isabel studied the thicket beyond the cabins and saw a place where the grass had been worn away.
“I see it!” Angie said. “Where’s it go
?”
“It leads to the same river that runs behind Sam and Darla’s house,” Trevor said. “We’ll cross the water on a rope bridge, then we’ll hike about three more miles to our campsite.”
“Can I go?” Angie said, her expression hopeful.
“Oh, but this is an all-boy hike,” Trevor said. “You probably know how bossy boys can be sometimes.”
“R.J. thinks he’s the boss of the whole U.S.A.”
“R.J. is your brother, right?” Trevor asked.
“Yes. He gotta have S’mores every day at his sleep-away camp, but I bet he didn’t get to carry dried-up milk.”
Trevor nodded. “He missed out on a very important task,” he agreed. “Tell you what. The boys and I will return on Monday afternoon. What would you say about you, me and Isabel taking a hike that evening? We can search for hummingbirds and marmots, and you can carry our dinner in your backpack.”
“I can?”
“Sure.”
“The whole dinner?”
“All of it.”
“Are we gonna go on the rope bridge?” she asked.
“No. I have another place in mind for our hike. A special place, where these boys won’t get to go.”
Angie clapped her hands over her cheeks and jumped around in circles. Then she stopped and frowned at Isabel. “I can’t wait to tell R.J. Can I call him today?”
“Tonight after dinner,” Isabel promised. She’d need to talk to Darla today about the change in plans concerning Angie and then let Roger know.
Trevor stood up and eyed Isabel, then Dusty called out to him. “Hey, Trev. We checked every pack, and they are all fine. We’d better hustle if we want to make it to the site by dusk.”
Isabel noticed then that the dozens of teenage boys were milling around, apparently waiting for their director to quit chatting up the female visitors.
Oops.
She caught Trevor’s eye and waved, then took Angie’s hand to return to Darla’s office.
Isabel shared Angie’s disappointment about being left behind while the guys walked over a rope bridge and into adventure. But she had Monday evening to dream about.
After Angie had finished talking to her dad and R.J. that evening, she accepted Sam’s offer to teach her how to play checkers. Darla had gone to Greeley to take her mother to dinner, and wouldn’t arrive home until late tonight.
Faced with an unexpected block of free time, Isabel relaxed in her room and telephoned Josie. Her baby sister had a hundred male friends and was a master flirt.
She might have some good advice.
“You busy?” Isabel asked as soon as her sister answered.
“Not really,” Josie said. “I just took a call from a woman wanting a baby quilt—I told her about the delay, and now I’m waiting for Gabe. We’re headed out to grab a sandwich.”
“Have you taken a lot of Blumecrafts calls?” Isabel asked.
“Some. Most people must know you’re on hiatus, since you left the info on your Web site and answering machines, but the baby-quilt lady was disappointed. Her daughter’s due to deliver on August first.”
“Could you get me her number?” Isabel asked, thinking she’d call the woman. If she bought a second sewing machine, she could work from here as easily as she could work from home.
“It’s downstairs at your computer,” Josie said. “I’ll e-mail it. Was that all you needed?”
Josie sounded rushed. Isabel would call back another time to ask her sister to ship some supplies. For now, she’d get to the point of her phone call. “A quick question before you go?”
“Shoot.”
“How’s this flirting thing supposed to work?” Isabel asked. “I must be handling it wrong.”
Josie chuckled. “How can a person flirt wrong?”
“They can flirt with someone who lives a long way from home. They can flirt when they are committed elsewhere.”
“It sounds as if you do have the wrong idea,” Josie said. “Flirting implies fun. As in short-term and anything but serious.”
“Doesn’t it turn serious?”
“Izzy, you hooked up with Roger right after Mom died. You need to see what else is out there before he gets lucky and slips a ring on your finger.”
“Should I worry about the kind of person I’m flirting with? I mean, how much am I supposed to like them?”
“Person? You’re supposed to flirt with people.”
“I’m flirting with a person.”
“Who?”
Isabel hadn’t talked to either of her sisters about Trevor since things had heated up between them. She was unsure about her feelings for him, except that she admired him more each time she saw him, and felt more mixed about what she was doing.
And wanted to kiss him more.
Her thoughts felt private. Deliciously private. But she needed advice.
“Trevor Kincaid,” she said.
“The rude guy?”
“He’s not rude anymore. He’s strong and patient and…confusing.”
“Listen, Gabe just rang the doorbell and I’ve got to run. Is Trevor your type?”
“Do I have a type?”
“Born mother?” Josie said. “Go for husband material?”
“He’s not that.”
“Then you’re fine. My best advice to you is to have fun, but to stay uninvolved emotionally. You can do that. I’m around guys all the time and I manage.”
Isabel thanked Josie and hung up.
She stared at the phone and knew she was already too involved in some ways.
She should have called Callie. Her serious-minded sister had been involved with only one man in her entire life. She’d married the guy and, with a slight interruption, had stayed married to him for ten years so far.
She even had a little boy, so her experience with males was more in depth than Josie’s. She might offer sage advice. Isabel dialed again.
“Callie, it’s me. You busy?”
“I’m watching Luke make a total mess of his bowl of potato salad,” she said.
Isabel pictured her sturdy, two-year-old nephew with his fists and face covered with the gooey dinner.
God, she’d just realized how much she missed him. Callie and her husband, Ethan, as well. And Josie. And R.J. and Roger.
She missed home.
“What’s up?” Callie asked. “Are you homesick, sweetie?”
“Yes, but that’s not why I’m calling.” She hesitated, then said, “Things are just different here. Hard in a way, and sometimes I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
“Is the professor still acting rude?”
“On the contrary.”
“Oh, no.”
Isabel still wasn’t ready to confide the full extent of her trouble to her older sister. She didn’t want Callie to warn her that she shouldn’t be kissing some guy she’d met on her vacation.
She’d only done it once, anyway.
But she wanted to kiss him again, very much.
“Izzy, you are too sheltered,” Callie said, obviously guessing about Isabel’s silence. “I’m sure Mom never thought hard enough about what she was doing, keeping us isolated the way she did. As a consequence, Josie fills her time with party guys and I fell in love with the first boy who talked to me.”
“You don’t regret falling in love with Ethan?”
“Are you kidding? He keeps me sane. That’s beside the point,” Callie said. “The point is, you settled for Roger too quickly.”
“Roger’s a nice guy.”
“Yes, I know. But you aren’t out there pining away for him, are you?”
No, she wasn’t. Isabel had never turned around the equation, had she? She’d wanted Roger to miss her. She’d never thought of her missing him.
“I miss him,” she said, perhaps a bit defensively.
“Do I hear a but?”
“Maybe.”
Callie sighed. “I’ve decided that Josie was right, Izzy. You need to see what else is out there before you settle down.
”
This advice from her cautious older sister?
“But go slow,” Callie added. “Take care of yourself. And think.”
Callie thought she should test the flirt waters, too? Surely that was a clear sign that she should go ahead and kiss Trevor whenever the opportunity arose.
Isabel spoke to Callie for a few more minutes, mostly about Luke’s potato salad antics. She spent the next few days working hard. She answered the phones, called the hundred-song DJ and contacted Josie about sending those Blumecrafts supplies.
She smiled a lot, and felt clearer-headed, as she anticipated the return of the camp kids and her hiking date with their able director.
AFTER HEARING A NOISE, Trevor glanced up to spy Angie peeking into his office again. He pretended not to notice. He would finish his work sooner if he didn’t talk to her. This was the fifth time the kid had checked on him since he’d sat down at his computer a half hour ago.
“Is it time to go?” Angie burst out, as if she simply couldn’t restrain the twenty-first asking of the question.
“Give me one more minute,” he said. After typing his name and credentials, he pressed the send button, shooting his weekly newsletter out to the e-mail in-boxes of twenty-five campers’ parents.
They’d made it to their site by dusk that first night, despite the boys’ skepticism that they’d make it at all. They’d sat around on felled trees and boulders, talking about their goals for the camp. One brave kid had wanted to see a bear. Another boy had only wished to escape the house he shared with six sisters.
During that first day, all of the boys had learned to traverse an incline and appreciate simple food cooked over a packer’s stove. By the end of the third day, they’d managed tougher mountaineering tasks and more important goal setting. Trevor felt as if their two-week experience might have an impact on their lives. That was the gist of what he had reported to parents in his e-mail.
And since he’d showered earlier and the counselors could handle the boys this evening, he was free for the night.
Trevor shut off his computer screen and eyed Angie. “I’m ready.”
“Hip, hip, hooray!” she hollered, and hastened out to Darla’s work area. By the time Trevor had turned out his light and followed her, she was already prancing around Isabel, who was waiting patiently in Darla’s chair.
