Jenna's Cowboy Hero

by Brenda Minton

  Chapter Twelve

  Kids poured off the church bus as Adam parked his truck next to his trailer. They stood in groups, gangly and awkward, kids in jeans, shorts, T-shirts, with acne on their faces. The girls had short hair, the boys had long hair, they had guitars and backpacks, a few had their clothes in garbage bags.

  “This is amazing.” Pastor Todd walked up and stood next to him as he got out of his truck. “Wow, you could use a shower.”

  “I was cleaning stalls.” Easy answer, but he didn’t know what to say about this, about what it meant. This camp was someone else’s dream. Now it was Todd’s dream.

  Football had been his dad’s dream.

  And Adam wanted to be a fireman. He smiled a little and Todd pounded him on the back, like the smile was an acknowledgment of the dream.

  Adam stood back and watched, because he didn’t know what to do with kids, not really. He couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling down the driveway, in the direction of Jenna’s. He could see the top of her blue roof from here. She knew what to do with kids.

  A younger man, probably in his twenties, left the group of kids and crossed to where Adam was standing, watching.

  “Adam, I’m John, the youth minister at Christian Mission. We really appreciate what you’ve done here, getting this together in such a short amount of time. The kids are really excited.”

  “I’m glad it came together for you.” Adam pointed to Pastor Todd. “This is the guy who will be keeping us all on the right path. Pastor Todd from the Community Church of Dawson.”

  A car eased up the drive. Not just a car, it was Jess’s sedan. He parked and got out. A man in a suit got out on the other side.

  “Great, we don’t need this.”

  Todd shot a glance in the direction Adam was pointing and his eyes widened. “He doesn’t give up.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He’s one annoying burr under my saddle.”

  “He shouldn’t be.” Todd started in the direction of the older man. “Jess, how are you today?”

  “I’d be a lot better, Pastor, if you’d give up on this crazy idea. I have my nephew here and we’d like to work out a deal with you.”

  “So it’s all about money?” Adam joined the three men. “You know, I’m not much of a kid person, either, Mr. Lockhart, but it’s just a camp. It isn’t going to interfere with your life at all.”

  “It’s a nuisance, and I have information here from county records. You didn’t go through the Planning and Zoning Committee to get this place done. There are fines, laws, and permits are required.”

  “So you want us to send these kids home, Jess?” Pastor Todd swept a hand, indicating the kids that were being led to their dorms by workers that came with the church group. “You would really want us to do that?”

  “Well, I…” Jess looked up, at the man Adam supposed was the nephew lawyer.

  “We want you to go through the proper channels and get the camp approved. Which we don’t think you can do. We think that it isn’t in the best interest of the community, of farmers who use their land for farming, to have this camp here.”

  “One man with a burr under his saddle.” Adam shook his head. “I’ll write you a check. Tell me how much.”

  “Planning and Zoning, Mr. Mackenzie.” The lawyer bristled.

  “Right, Planning and Zoning. I need a shower, so you let me know when you decide how much you want.”

  Adam walked away, leaving the other men to work things out. As he walked up the steps to the trailer, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Will.

  “Adam?”

  “We’re going to need a lawyer.”

  Silence.

  “What have you done?” Will’s voice, a little tense. Adam smiled.

  “I haven’t done anything. This neighbor situation is getting crazy. He says the camp doesn’t have the proper permits from Planning and Zoning. I didn’t know little counties like this had Planning and Zoning.” What was he thinking? This could be his way out. The county would shut the camp down. The kids would all go away. He would contact a Realtor.

  “You want to save the camp?” Will’s voice held a hint of laughter Adam didn’t appreciate.

  “I don’t care about the camp.” He looked out the window at kids running around the dorm, and two boys playing catch. “The people around here want the camp.”

  “Right. Okay, you’re the hard-hearted football player who doesn’t care. The community cares. Gotcha. I’ll make sure no one ever knows your secret.”

  “Thanks, I’m sure you’ll do that. So, contact a lawyer, see what we need to do with this county situation, and with Jess Lockhart. He says it is about zoning, but I have a feeling it’s about a check. I think if I’d paid him off to start, it never would have gone to the county officials.”

  “So you called his bluff and now he’s stuck being the bad guy taking down Camp Hope.”

  “Yeah, he’s the bad guy.” Adam stood at the door and watched the old guy in bib overalls get in his car. Not exactly the picture of the villain.

  “I’ll get on this. But I really think Billy got the permit.”

  “Then we need to get that information. Or find out who he talked to on that committee.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Will sounded confidant. Adam was glad, because he felt more like someone about to write another big check.

  Adam slipped the phone back into his pocket and closed his eyes. For a long time he’d been too busy for God. And then he’d thought he was too strong to need God.

  And now, he wasn’t busy or strong. He was wandering in a desert, wondering if there was a clear way out, or any real answers.

  Jenna pulled up to the camp as kids filed out of the dorms and down to the chapel. Next to her, Timmy and David unbuckled their seat belts.

  “Stay with me, guys. I know they have activities for you, but until we know what and with whom, you’re not going to take off. Understood?”

  Twin looks of wide-eyed surprise and disappointment. “Okay.”

  She got out of her truck and the boys each grabbed a hand. Sometimes they swung too hard, knocking her off balance. But she didn’t want their lives to be about the words Be careful with Mom.

  As she walked up the steps to the cafeteria, she heard the door of the trailer close. Glancing back, she watched as Adam took the steps two at a time, and she knew that he was in his own world, not aware of what was going on around him.

  She stepped through the doors of the kitchen and the boys let go of her hands and ran to Pastor Todd’s wife, Lori.

  “Jenna, I can take them with me. We’re going to eat lunch and then I have little projects for the children of the camp workers.” Lori had hold of the boys.

  Jenna eyed her offspring. “You boys go with Miss Lori, and make sure you do what she says.”

  And then they were gone. She walked behind the stainless-steel serving counter where Louisa and several others were fixing the last pile of sandwiches.

  “I’m here to work.”

  “That’s great, honey. Why don’t you help us serve sandwiches.” Louisa handed her a pair of gloves. “How you feelin’ today, Jenna?”

  “Good.” She slipped the gloves on as the door opened. It wasn’t the campers. Adam paused in the doorway and then closed the door behind him.

  She had been right; he looked like it had been a long day. Maybe cleaning stalls was too much for him. She smiled at the thought. She’d like for something to get the better of him.

  “Jenna.” He walked back to the sink to wash his hands. “Get all of your work finished?”

  “Yes, thanks to you.” And she shouldn’t have said that, because a half-dozen pairs of eyes turned in their direction.

  He stepped into place next to her behind the serving counter and pulled on the latex gloves that Louisa handed him. Jenna tried to ignore him, but he was grinning as he leaned closer.

  “Bet you wish you wouldn’t have said that out loud.”

  “I kind of do wish that,” she wh
ispered back, keeping her focus on the door that the teens were about to plow through.

  “You’re cute when you’re beet-red. But don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else has noticed.”

  She glanced up at him. “Thanks, cowboy, you’re such an encourager.”

  “I do my best.” He nudged her a little with his shoulder. But then the door opened and the moment ended as a line of hungry teenagers swarmed the kitchen like ants on a honey trail. Or so Louisa said.

  Jenna dropped a sandwich on the tray that one of the teens slid in front of her. She smiled at the girl, thinking about those years, how it had felt to be that young, that worried about the future and what people thought about her.

  And now, she had other worries, but she knew who her friends were. She knew not to worry about things like being a part of a crowd that didn’t really care about her.

  She knew now that real friends mattered, and if she had to work at earning a friendship, acting like someone she wasn’t to impress somebody, it wasn’t friendship.

  “How you feeling?” Adam’s voice took her from that moment of looking back.

  “I’m good. Why do you ask?”

  His hand slid behind her back. “I’m asking because I really don’t want you to wear yourself out. I’ve been doing research and…”

  “Oh, no. You have?” She cycled through a flash of emotions and landed on the one overwhelming truth—it was really very sweet. The shy expression on his face made her want to cup his cheeks in her hands and kiss him. What a mess. “You’re a good man, Adam Mackenzie.”

  “Well, I can’t say that anyone has ever called me that.”

  “Then they should have. I’m going to finish up here and then help with crafts. What about you?”

  He dropped chips on the tray of the young man who had just come through the door. There were more outside, still being herded in by camp counselors.

  “What do you mean, what about me?”

  “Are you going to help with anything this afternoon?”

  “I hadn’t planned on it.” He kept a steady action of placing bags of chips on the trays of the young people walking through the line. “I don’t even know if I’m qualified to serve meals let alone do other things.”

  “You’re doing a great job.”

  A break in kids gave them privacy. He turned to face her, pulling on the latex gloves that were tighter on his hand than on hers.

  “I’m pretending. Jenna, I’m not the guy who works with teens or runs a camp. When I look in your eyes, I can see that you want me to be that person. I’m not.”

  More kids filed through the line.

  “I’m not trying to push you.” She put the last sandwich on the tray of the last kid.

  He pulled off his gloves and tossed them into the trash. “Yes, you are. Since I showed up in Dawson, people have had plans for me. I could really do without that for a while.”

  “What does that mean?” She followed him out the door of the kitchen. He had been walking fast, but he slowed for her, holding his hand out as she approached the steps.

  She took his hand and eased down the steps, easing because of the pain, and feeling less than confident. “So?”

  He kept hold of her hand. “Jenna, I played football because it’s what I’m good at, and because I didn’t have time growing up to think about anything else. My dad, coaches, agents, they’ve always been there to tell me my next move. And now this camp, also not my idea, my plan.”

  She wanted to tell him he had everything, but maybe he didn’t.

  “What do you want to do? I mean, you don’t have to help. There are plenty of people here. I just thought…”

  “That I’d like to string some beads?”

  “Help. I thought you’d like to help. There’s nothing like helping a child, watching them smile and grow, to make you think…”

  “About something other than myself.”

  She smiled up at him. “I can’t tell you what to do, Adam, but at your age, maybe it is time to think about what you want, and where you want to be.”

  “Maybe it is.”

  Jenna let go of his hand. “I’m going to string beads, and I understand that this camp isn’t what you do.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jenna walked away, and she knew that he was still standing behind her, still watching. And then she heard him running to catch up with her, and something new and unexpected sparked inside her heart.

  “I thought you had other things to do?” She glanced sideways at the giant of a man walking next to her.

  “I thought I did, but I checked my schedule and I’m open for the rest of the afternoon.”

  She touched the tips of her fingers to his. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Jenna and Adam, it’s great to see the two of you. You’re going to help with crafts?” Marcie Watkins handed them each a long apron. “Put this on. It’ll keep you a little bit clean. Notice, I said a little.”

  “I thought we were stringing beads?” Adam leaned and whispered in her ear.

  Jenna shrugged. “Me, too. Marcie, aren’t we stringing beads?”

  “I have choices.” Marcie pulled out macaroni from a box and started setting up paint. “They can make a cross necklace with beads, or paint macaroni and string it.”

  “Paint macaroni?” Adam shook his head. “Sounds like fun.”

  “It will be fun. Stop being a scrooge.”

  Jenna slipped the apron over her head and then pulled it to tie behind her back. As she pulled the ends tight, she watched Adam trying to get his straight, fussing with the tie behind his back. Awkward didn’t begin to describe it.

  “Can I help?”

  “Probably.” He turned so she could tie the apron.

  When he turned around she laughed. He was a giant in a paper bib and a cowboy hat.

  “Okay, this is funny, but here come the kids.” Marcie was in the middle of her little group of helpers, four of them in aprons. “Today they can either make a cross with beads—Julie will help with that—or they can paint the macaroni. We’ll let the kids string the macaroni tomorrow. We’ll have a station for painting red, green, white, black. Got it, everyone?”

  “What if a kid wants blue?” Adam mumbled as Marcie stationed him in front of the red paint. A tub of paint, four plates, four brushes and wipes to clean their hands. “What teenager is going to want to do this?”

  “You’d be surprised. Kids like simple things. Adults always believe that only complicated things can make a kid happy.” Jenna poured paint into the pan on the table in front of her. “Besides, there are kids as young as ten in this group.”

  “Oh.” He looked around them, distracted. “You need to sit down.”

  “I don’t.” But she really did.

  He was already moving away from her, toward chairs stacked in the chapel. He grabbed one off the pile and walked back with it, putting it behind her.

  “There, does that work?”

  She sat down, nodding. “It works. Thank you.”

  “Okay, now, why can’t the kids have blue?”

  She laughed. “You really do have a one-track mind. Black for sin, red for the shed blood of Jesus, white for sins washed away, green for peace or love, I always get that one confused.”

  “Got it. No blue.”

  “No blue.” She reached up, letting her fingers slide through his for a moment, not wanting to think about how it felt to have this giant of a man caring about her, and caring about these kids.

  Marcie slid past them, her glance on their intertwined fingers, and she looked away, because Marcie didn’t gossip. Jenna loved that about the older woman.

  “Mr. Mackenzie, the kids will be at your station first.” But there was an edge to her voice. A protective, mother-hen edge.

  Adam moved, breaking the connection between their hands. And Jenna didn’t blame him. It had been a silly high school thing to do, reaching for his hand that way. She thought about her heart, broken one too many times, and the boys,
because they thought he was a hero.

  None of them needed to go through this, through moving forward, getting over a silly summer fling.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The group of kids lined up in front of the macaroni-painting station, and Adam thought it looked like a lot more than ten. But after counting, he realized it really was just ten.

  “Can we eat this?” one boy asked, his smile crooked and his eyes full of humor. His T-shirt was too big and his jeans a little too short.

  “No, this shouldn’t be eaten. It isn’t cooked. We’re just painting it.” Adam handed the boy a brush.

  “I was joking, man. Don’t get so uptight.”

  Uptight? Was he really? He shrugged a few times, thinking that might loosen him up. Nope, still uptight. The boy shook his head and laughed. “Dude, you gotta lighten up.”

  “Young man, that is not a dude. That is Mr. Mackenzie and you need to learn some manners.” Marcie slipped in between them, a powerhouse of a woman with gray hair and glasses. She stared the boy down, and still managed to look loving. “While we’re here, we won’t say dude. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The boy lost his mirth, lost his swagger. Marcie could put a pro coach to shame.

  “Hey, partner, it’s okay.” Adam smiled because he’d almost said dude.

  “Mr. Mackenzie, do you think we could shoot some hoops?” The boy nodded to the basketball court fifty feet away and the ball, still lying in the grass.

  “We might manage to do that, if it fits into the schedule.”

  “You’d play with us?” the boy continued.

  “Sure I would.” Adam swallowed against the painful tightening in his throat. “What’s your name?”

  “Chuck.” The boy painted his macaroni. “This is cool. I like the red the best. I’m going to be a preacher someday.”

  “That’s great, Chuck.” Adam loosened up, and it was easy with a kid like that smiling at him. It wasn’t about his autograph or football; it was about this camp. And the kid was the hero.

  He wasn’t a kid person, had never been the guy on the team that signed up for children’s charity events. Now he wondered why.