The Troublesome Angel

by Valerie Hansen

  “Well…” She began to laugh softly. “You can do that if you want to but count me out. By the time you get the food hot, you’ll probably have burned through the wood and dumped your whole project into the hot coals. I prefer my tube steaks not coated with ashes and grit, let alone tree bark.”

  “Okay, smartie. Just what do you suggest?”

  “A raid on Judy’s closets for wire hangers. Preferably ones without a plastic coating.” Stacy started up the hill toward the cabin and called back, “Wait there. I’ll find something we can use.”

  I could use fresh start, Gray thought, shaking his head in self-derision. All his plans had been carefully contrived and executed. All his purchases had been designed to impress Stacy with his ability to adapt to her idea of fun. And because he’d neglected to bring metal rods to spear a stupid hot dog, she was laughing at his incompetence instead of praising his know-how.

  He’d wanted to impress her. All he’d done was prove how inept he was at doing so.

  Judy caught Stacy pulling a blouse from her closet, slipping it off the hanger and dropping it into a heap on the bed. “Hey!”

  Startled, she jumped back, her cheeks burning. “Oh! You scared me.”

  “Good. I just ironed that blouse.”

  Still a little breathless, Stacy said, “Oh, you did not. You don’t iron any more than I do. If it weren’t for permanent press we’d both be so wrinkled people would think we’d slept in our clothes.” She laughed nervously. “Which, come to think of it, I’ve done more than once when I’ve been stuck all night in the woods.”

  “Okay. So maybe I did exaggerate. I still want to know what you’re doing.”

  “Um…” Stacy held up the hanger. “I need some wiener-roasting sticks.”

  “Why? We’re having lasagna for dinner.”

  “I’m not,” Stacy admitted. Her blush heightened to make her cheeks even rosier. “I’m having a picnic…in the campground…with Gray.”

  “Oooh! When did you change your mind about him?”

  “I haven’t changed my mind. I’m simply taking your good advice and being kind. He came to the door and—”

  “And you couldn’t send him away?” Judy cheered, fist in the air, “All right!”

  “It’s just a simple picnic, okay? Don’t go blowing it up into anything more.” Stacy pulled a face. “I think he brought marshmallows, too. Can I have two hangers so we don’t have to share?”

  “I shouldn’t give you another one,” Judy said with a knowing smile. “Two on a marshmallow is kind of fun. If the other person is your type, that is.”

  “Well, Graydon Payne isn’t mine,” Stacy insisted. She fell back on wisecracking to keep from facing the seriousness of her upcoming time alone with Gray. “And I’m not sharing with him, so fork over some usable wire, lady, or suffer the consequences.”

  Judy reached into the closet, came up with an empty hanger and handed it to Stacy. “Here. Enjoy.”

  “I knew you’d see the wisdom of cooperation.”

  “Hah,” Judy said. “It’s a good thing one of us has a little wisdom left to share. You seem to be fresh out.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, the man has been making himself a part of your life ever since he saw you again. How many times does he have to show up before you realize that he’s courting you?”

  “He is not!” Stacy faced her friend, hands on her hips, eyes wide.

  “Have it your way.” Judy shrugged and started out of the room. “Come on. I’ll get you a wire cutter. You need to get back to Gray before he comes looking for you and I make a pass at him myself.”

  “If you’re trying to make me jealous, it isn’t working,” Stacy insisted.

  “Jealous? Me make you jealous?” Judy laughed heartily. “Why, whatever gave you that idea?”

  Gray couldn’t help fidgeting. Out of his element, he wondered what other faux pas he’d commit before the evening was over. When he saw Stacy coming back down the hill he forced himself to feign nonchalance.

  “Got them,” she called, waving the wires.

  “Good. I think the fire’s still hot enough.”

  She agreed. “As big as it was, it’ll be hours before the embers cool off.” Handing him one of the wires, she threaded a hot dog on hers and held it over the fire, trying to ignore Gray as he followed suit. Judy couldn’t have been right about his motives, could she? Was it possible he’d engineered their prior meetings?

  The ridiculous idea was dismissed as soon as Stacy analyzed it. He certainly hadn’t caused Missy to run away or to get stuck in the little storage closet. Beyond that, all he’d been doing was asking advice on how to deal with the child, or trying to pay his emotional debt to search and rescue. There was certainly nothing romantic about that. Then again, he had set up a picnic, which was totally out of character for him.

  Stacy twirled the wire to roast her hot dog evenly. When Gray crouched down beside her and his presence made her pulse speed, she decided the safest thing to do was to focus on the lonely child. “So, how’s Missy doing these days?”

  “That’s why I came to see you,” he said.

  Though she should have been happy to hear it, Stacy had to admit she was more disappointed than relieved. “Is there a problem?”

  “Not exactly. I just have a question for you.” He stared into the fire. “I’m volunteering as a counselor at a children’s church camp, up in Ravenden, next week.”

  “I know the place. It’s very nice.”

  “Glad to hear it. So, what do you think about my enrolling Missy and taking her with me?”

  “Does she want to go?”

  “I haven’t asked her yet. I thought I should speak with Candace and Mark about it first, in case they refuse to allow her to go. I didn’t want to promise anything I couldn’t deliver.”

  “That’s wise,” Stacy said. “Missy’s a bright little girl but she’s still a kid. Kids don’t think the same way you and I do. To them, everything tends to be equal.”

  “For instance?”

  “Oh, like the promise of an ice cream cone or a pony. We don’t see those things as being of the same importance. To a child, they are. To them, a promise is a promise. It’s far better to avoid making one in the first place than to offer something you can’t deliver.” She sensed him turn his head, begin to study her profile.

  Afraid that her expression might betray too much of what was in her heart, Stacy stood up. “Well, time to grab a hot dog bun and see if my cooking is as good as I think it is.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Gray said. “There’s nothing you don’t do well.”

  Her laugh was nervous, cynical. “Oh, yes there is.”

  “Okay. What?” He joined her at the picnic table.

  Stacy scooted around the end of the table and chose a place directly across from him rather than give him another opportunity to hold her hand. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed his touch. She was avoiding him because she’d liked it too much.

  Spreading mustard and relish to stall for time while she composed herself, Stacy finally passed the plastic containers to Gray and dared to meet his gaze. “I can’t tell you my faults. If I did, you wouldn’t think I was perfect anymore.”

  When Gray smiled over at her and said, “Yes, I would,” the sincere look in his eyes was almost enough to bring her to tears.

  It was dusk before Stacy convinced herself to end the picnic. “I guess I should be going.”

  Gray put out his hand but didn’t touch her. “No. Wait. We haven’t roasted marshmallows yet.”

  “Really, I…” Pausing, she realized she wanted to stay with him. Forever. Their evening together had been the most enjoyable time she could remember ever having. Her initial nervousness had been replaced with a tranquil accord that had arrived with such subtlety that she hadn’t sensed it coming until it had already filled her soul to overflowing.

  “Stay a while longer. Your friends will understand. Come on. Show me how this is done.” He reached for
the bag of marshmallows and tore it open.

  “As if you couldn’t figure it out by yourself.” She popped a plain marshmallow into her mouth.

  “I like them better uncooked, anyway.” Gray’s lopsided smile of response made her wish he wasn’t so blasted endearing.

  “I’ll bet there’s a special technique to roasting them. I need to learn what it is so I don’t disappoint Missy or the other kids when I help out at camp.”

  “You’re really going to do that?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Stacy stifled a giggle. “No reason. Just make sure you don’t sign up to demonstrate forest lore to them, okay? You owe the poor, innocent kids that much.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Pantomiming a terrible affront, he clapped a hand over his heart. “Are you suggesting that I might not be the best person to teach young minds about the wonders of nature?”

  This time, Stacy laughed aloud. “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you. Do everybody a favor and stick to civilization. That’s where you belong.”

  He threaded a stack of three marshmallows on his makeshift skewer and held it over a remaining spot of glowing coals. “Only because you refuse to teach me all you know.”

  “Oh, right! Like I could do that in a couple of hours?” Too late, she realized he’d been goading her again so she added, “And if you claim I know so little you can learn it that fast, I’m going to conk you with a marshmallow.”

  “Sure, you are.” Forgetting his task, he concentrated on enjoying the verbal sparring with Stacy. Nothing got past her, did it? She was one of a kind, always ready to stand up to him, to give as good as she got.

  Still feigning insult and racking her brain for a quick-witted comeback, she glanced at the end of his hanger. It was in flames. “Um, excuse me, Mr. Payne, but I believe your dessert is on fire.”

  “What?” Gray jerked the stick back and blew hard on the bubbling, blackened mess to quell the flames. Part of the melting confection started to slide off. He caught it without thinking. “Ouch!”

  “Well, silly…” Stacy began before she realized the sticky, clinging sweet could actually be hurting him. She jumped to her feet. “Let go. Drop it.”

  By the time he did as he was told, his palm was red beneath the goo. Stacy quickly led him to the cooler, scooped up some cracked ice and filled his hand, closing his fingers by placing her smaller hands over his. “Here. Hold on to this. It’ll stop the burning. I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Neither can I.” Gray stared at their joined hands. He marveled at the expert way she had reacted to help him. He hadn’t meant to do something so idiotic, but if he’d known Stacy was going to minister to him so tenderly, he’d have grabbed the burning marshmallow on purpose.

  Dazed by the effect their personal contact was having on her, she abruptly loosened her grip, stepped back, and took refuge in becoming fully professional once again. “I suspect it’s only a first or second-degree burn. If it blisters or the skin breaks for any reason, be sure to keep it clean, dry and sterile. If you notice any reddening later or if the pain worsens, I suggest you see a doctor.”

  “I will.”

  His voice was restrained, his expression unreadable, giving Stacy no clue as to his feelings. She was having no problem discerning her own emotions, though. For the few moments when she’d forgotten herself and cupped Gray’s injured hand, she’d been filled with an indescribable sensation of pure wonder.

  Seeking to distract them both, she decided to demonstrate the proper marshmallow-roasting technique. “Here. Watch me. You string the marshmallow on the skewer like this, the same way you did, only you hold it farther away from the heat. Turn it often enough to keep it from catching on fire. It should be a toasty-brown color…not black.” She crouched down and slowly twirled her wire over the glowing embers. “When it starts to bubble under the crust, it’s done.”

  Stacy had been concentrating on her task rather than letting herself think about Gray. Now, she stood and proudly presented the perfectly roasted marshmallow, taking pains to avoid making eye contact with him. “See? It’s easy when you pay attention.” He didn’t reply.

  Still jittery and far more aware of him than she liked, Stacy listened to the warnings blaring in her brain and offered the polite excuse, “Well, I guess I’d better be going. Judy will be expecting me back and Angie’s probably made dessert, again, and—” Stop babbling and just go, she ordered silently.

  Gray’s voice was quiet, compelling. “Aren’t you going to give me a taste of that?”

  “Oh, sure. No problem.” Without thinking, she carefully slid the sticky, half-melted confection off the wire and held it up. “Here you go.”

  She’d expected him to reach for it, to take it in his free hand. Instead, he stepped closer, leaned over, and opened his mouth. When she looked up into his eyes, she saw a well-defined challenge. One she couldn’t refuse.

  Unfortunately, when she tried to pop the marshmallow into his mouth without touching him, it stuck to her.

  Gray’s mouth closed over the treat, his lips warmly, gently, grazing the tips of her fingers. Her eyes widened. Her heart stopped. The challenge in his dark eyes became a caress; the mutual sharing of an intimate moment that stole her breath away.

  She withdrew her tingling fingers as she watched him lick his lips. Lips that had once kissed her.

  But only as a joke, Stacy insisted, trying to counteract her amorous reaction to him the way she had before. This time, it didn’t help. The atmosphere between her and Gray had become so charged with emotional intensity Stacy couldn’t even bring herself to look away, let alone convince herself that he wasn’t serious.

  Gray was momentarily stunned. He studied her face, her eyes, trying to see into her heart and decide if she was feeling as off balance as he was.

  It was impossible to tell. Stacy looked as if she were torn between fondness and fright. Did she think he’d ever hurt her? Cause her pain? He’d never do such a thing. Except that he already had, he admitted ruefully. When he’d taken it upon himself to interfere in her relationship with Mark, he’d undoubtedly hurt her terribly. No wonder she still distrusted him.

  Concerned only for Stacy, Gray purposely broke the mood and released her by saying, “Thanks for the taste. I’ll be sure and remember your recipe.” He backed away. “When you get back to the cabin, tell Judy and Angie hello for me.”

  “I—I will.” She saw him start to stick both hands in his pockets, then flinch when the burned one touched fabric. “You take care of your hand. Remember what I said.”

  “I will.”

  Stacy was sidestepping toward the edge of the campsite. “And tell Missy I said she should behave while she’s at camp, even if you’re there, too.” She saw him nod. Then he turned away. Stacy did the same and headed for the cabin.

  She felt as drained as if she’d just run a marathon. What was the matter with her? Didn’t she have any good sense left? If Gray hadn’t acted first, she doubted she’d have been able to muster enough self-control to walk away from him. And then what?

  Stacy didn’t want to know. She didn’t even want to guess. If, as she suspected, the Lord was trying to make another point with her in regard to her feelings toward Graydon Payne, she’d just as soon fail to grasp it.

  How long God would let her get away with that attitude was another question altogether.

  Chapter Twelve

  Missy had jumped up and down with glee when Gray had informed her he was taking her to camp with him. The only thing she’d objected to was having to share a cabin with ten other girls and their twenty-something female counselor, Miss Emily, instead of becoming her uncle’s shadow.

  On the fourth day of the five scheduled, the child finally quit sulking and began to act as if she were having a good time. Her group was seated in the shade of a cluster of ancient oaks, making animals out of pinecones, when Gray sauntered up and joined them.

  “Look, Uncle Gray! I made a owl. Miss Emily showe
d me how. See?” Missy displayed it proudly, waiting for his admiration.

  He smiled down at the eager child. “That’s very pretty, honey.”

  “I wanted to make a dog like Lewis, but it was too hard.” She began to pout, then brightened.

  “When are you going to take me to see his puppies?”

  Gray had forgotten all about the pups at Stacy’s. After the incident of the hot marshmallows and equally heated ambience, he figured she’d never want to hear from him again, let alone have him show up on her doorstep.

  “I didn’t say we’d go see the puppies, Missy. That was your idea. Remember?”

  “Stacy said I could.”

  “Well, she shouldn’t have.” Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair.

  “But—but I asked Jesus, too,” Missy insisted.

  If only things were actually as simple as the trusting heart of a child saw them. Searching for a way to appease her, Gray said, “Tell you what. I’ll talk to Mark and Candace and see if it’s okay to take you to the zoo next week. Then you can see lots of different animals. Okay?”

  When Missy didn’t answer right away he waited, expecting tears. Surprisingly, she didn’t cry or pout. Instead, she stared up at him, eyes wide, expression incredulous, as if he’d just grown a second head.

  “Okay?” he asked again.

  Without answering, the little girl lowered her gaze and went back to adding more make-believe feathers to her owl.

  At dinner that evening, Missy’s counselor, Emily, approached Gray’s table. “Hi. Did you two have fun, today?”

  Confused, he looked up at the dark-haired, amiable young woman. “Pardon me?”

  “You and Missy,” she explained. “I only let her go because you said she could.”

  He was on his feet in an instant, his meal forgotten. “You let her go? Where?”

  “To meet you.” Emily squinted up at him.

  “You did tell her she could. I heard you talking to her and I’m sure you promised to take her to see some animals.”