It was how they created their Band of Sisters. While Charlie, Skye, and Fish may not have fought side by side, they were connected by something bigger. Something civilians, and even male soldiers, couldn’t understand.
They had to fight twice as hard to earn their place on their teams and squads, and even harder to earn their reputations as respected soldiers. Even in today’s modern era, not all men felt women belonged in the military, and definitely not in a war zone.
“You have friends in the area? Is that why you want to settle here?”
“I was recently hired as the new physical education teacher at the middle school in Sutton and am currently renting a house on Autumn Pond. I came across your vacant camp while canoeing with my girlfriends.”
Helen leaned her head against Marcus’s shoulder. “We have many fond memories there.”
“And a few ghosts as well. You’ve heard about our misfortunes?” Marcus asked.
“I heard many wonderful things about the camp and about you two. You have quite the reputation in town and among neighboring camps.” She didn’t believe the boys’ deaths were the Shermans’ fault, and according to old gossip, neither had the town.
However, their enrollment and sponsors had quickly dropped after the boy fell from the loft and broke his neck.
“You’re friendly with them?” Helen asked.
“I’ve been in touch with a few.”
“Oh? Which one do you run? Our lawyer said you weren’t interested in tearing down the buildings, which is why we agreed to meet with you. Everyone else who’s made us an offer over the past two decades has wanted to build a fancy vacation home.”
“I don’t run one. Yet. My friends and I would like to bring your camp back to life. It’s such a beautiful location with the pond on one end and the open fields on the other.” Brooke envisioned putting in a basketball and tennis court and turning the rest of the open land into a baseball and softball field.
This past week she’d walked the trail behind the open field which branched off into a dozen other trails. She hiked a few but would like to map out where each went, noting which looped back around and which went on for miles. It wasn’t something she’d do alone.
Skye was back in Virginia, and Charlie was buried under flour and prime rib and whatever else she was cooking up in her school. Fish still had a million doctors, physical, and occupational therapist appointments. Brooke hoped she could talk her into coming back up and going on a hiking adventure, but depression had been hitting her pretty hard.
“Tell us about your friends.” Helen slid the plate of cookies closer to Brooke—an obvious bribe.
Devious woman. Brooke wanted to chuckle at her interrogation method, which worked.
“I mentioned Charlie. She’s finishing her degree in culinary arts. She’d run the food side of things. She’s really into learning about all sorts of allergies and wants to set the kitchen up to accommodate those with gluten and peanut allergies, especially. I guess there’s a lot of cross contamination that could hurt the kids.”
“That’s considerate of her.”
It was. Food allergies wasn’t something Brooke had thought of. If a child was allergic to peanut butter, they’d offer him an alternative. No eggs? Okay. No dairy? That had to suck not having ice cream, but they could find a sugary substitute.
Charlie sent her a link about celiac disease and how those diagnosed with it couldn’t eat at ninety-nine percent of restaurants. Apparently, gluten couldn’t be washed out of wooden spoons and Tupperware and it even lurked in the air. Charlie wanted a separate area in the kitchen to prepare the gluten-free dishes that would be safe for those who had celiac disease.
If it meant keeping kids safe, Brooke had no problem with it.
“Skye is still in the service. She’s a helicopter pilot and mostly flies the medic chopper and is working on her nursing degree. Since her schedule is sporadic, she’d run PR and fundraising events, and she’d also manage our website.”
“Something we didn’t have back in the day.”
“And then there’s Fish.”
“Fish? She fishes, too?”
Brooke grinned. “Regina Fisher. When she’s a civilian, she’s Gina, but when she’s serving, she’s Fish.” And when things got serious, like when she nearly died, she was Regina. Now, her name was interchangeable depending on the situation.
“And she’s overseas?” Marcus leaned his elbows on the table, fully enthralled with Brooke. Maybe she could sell them on the idea of selling her the property by boasting about the sisters. Not that it would be a hardship. They were awesome.
“No.” They didn’t need to know about her burns and scars. “She’s completed her service and is...” How could she say it without encroaching on Gina’s privacy? “She’s rediscovering herself. Gina is quite crafty and a talented seamstress. She’d spearhead our arts and crafts program and other fun projects.”
“Children love art projects,” Helen said.
“And you’d run the show?” Marcus asked.
“We’d run it together.” Brooke could admit she was slightly OCD with organization. They’d each have their role, but yeah, Brooke would probably manage the whole thing.
“Since you’re a physical education teacher, I presume you’d coach the children and set up fun games for them.”
“Absolutely. Especially obstacle courses. They’re pretty big right now. There are a dozen trails to hike as well. I’ll need to scope them out and see which ones are safe for different age groups.”
“Oh, yes. You’ll have separate weeks for different age groups? That’s what we did back in the day. It took some convincing, but Marcus finally agreed to co-ed weeks for our pre-teens. Of course, we hired extra chaperones during those weeks.”
Helen’s smile quickly erased as a dim cloud shadowed her face. The couple threaded their fingers together and squeezed their hands tight.
It was during a co-ed week when the teenager died, she’d read.
“Actually, we came up with themed weeks.”
“Oh, like Christmas in July?”
That sounded cute and Brooke loved how Helen’s eyes sparkled again. Christmas in July wouldn’t be a bad idea, for a day, but their themes had a heavier tone.
“We noticed there aren’t many opportunities for grieving children to come together and interact with other kids their age who understand what they’re going through. Depending on the need, we’d have a few weeks set up for those children.”
“Oh, that’s touching.” Helen clutched her free hand over her heart. “Were you... Forgive me for asking, but you mentioned earlier that you had no family...”
“Yes.” Brooke nodded. “I lost my mother when I was ten. My grandmother raised me. And my friends, my sisters, they lost someone close to them when they were young as well. The military brought us together, but we have more in common than just serving our country.”
“Oh, bless you, child.” Helen stood and came over to Brooke, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and sniffing back quiet tears.
Totally moved by the kindness of a practical stranger, Brooke leaned into her hug, inhaling the smell of comfort and sugary cookies.
“A camp for grieving children,” Marcus said from across the table. “You ladies are quite special. This will be healing for the four of you as well.”
She supposed it would be, even if it wasn’t the intention. Wanting the attention off her, she shared her other ideas.
“Since we’ll have a specialized kitchen, we’d like to offer a camp for those with celiac disease. I’ve met with a few children with it and they’ve told me how it makes them feel different. When a mom brings cookies after a game, a celiac child can’t have any.”
Helen returned to her seat and shook her head. “And here I baked cookies not thinking if you had any allergies.”
“I don’t and it’s okay. If you don’t have allergies, it’s not something you think about. These children miss going out to eat with their teams, with
their friends and families. Even going to camp. Charlie said she could plan an entire week’s worth of menus with gluten-free options.”
“What a wonderful idea.”
“And there are children with other diseases who look perfectly normal but have an inner battle going on. Like those with Type 1 Diabetes, epilepsy, or ongoing seizures. Of course, we’d bring in nurses and specialists to help. We’d be the hosts and provide the venue and some activities, but we’d rely on professionals to make sure we meet the medical needs. The four of us would go through extensive training as well. It’s just another camp need that I’ve come across.”
“I wish we did that when we were younger, Marcus. Think of all the kids who couldn’t come to our camp because they had an allergy or disability.”
“I like you, Brooklyn Ross. I think you and your military hero sisters are exactly what that place needs.” Marcus stood and reached his hand across the table.
“I...” Brooke looked at his hand and then up at his serious face.
“Helen and I couldn’t have children. We don’t have anyone to pass our farmhouse or our property to. We live a comfortable life and need no more than what we currently have.” He looked down at his wife and she nodded, as if knowing what he was about to say next. “We’d like to give you the property. If our attorney needs us to set an actual dollar amount, you can have it for one dollar.”
“One dollar? What?” Brooke stood, her mouth hung open, her eyes blinking in confusion.
“Take it, Brooke, dear. Resurrect that beautiful camp and make young dreams come true. It would mean the world to us.”
“I don’t... I can’t...” What? They were going to give her a piece of land worth close to two million dollars? Money was no object. Should she tell them that?
“And you need to promise to come visit us often and keep us up-to-date on the camp’s progress.” Marcus’s hand still hung out across the table.
“I...” Slowly, Brooke lifted her heavy arm and slid her hand into Marcus’s. “Thank you,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Thank you.”
“No, sweetie. Thank you. That property has always been special to us, and for too many years, it’s had a dark cloud hovering over it and... the people who were affected by the tragedies. It’s about time to bring it to life again.” Helen clasped her hand over Marcus and Brooke’s, tears dripping down her cheeks as well.
“You two are so much more than your reputation. I wish I knew you when I was younger. I know I would have loved coming to Camp Sunrise. Would it be okay if I came by sometime and picked your brain a little? I’m sure you have amazing ideas and tips for running a successful camp.”
“Oh, sweetie, we’d love that. And bring your friends, too.”
“I will. They’re going to love you.”
She’d already fallen in love with the sweet, generous couple. Now all she had to do was hire a contractor, a landscaper, a plumber, an electrician, a nursing staff, and the nine thousand other things that needed to get done to turn her new dream into a reality.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Thanks for coming, Fish. I totally need your set of eyes.” Brooke hugged Gina and ushered her inside the house.
“No problem. It’s not like my calendar is full.”
“Any cute doctors? You must have come across a McDreamy somewhere along the way.” The skin Fish showed was mostly unscathed, but Brooke knew under the long sleeves and jeans, her body was riddled with scars. Some would heal with time, most wouldn’t.
“There were a few in Boston. Doctor Hatchet—” Brooke snorted and Fish rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I know. The irony. Doctor Hatchet had the honor of skinning my ass to cover my neck. Sort of put a damper on any possibility of dating after that.”
“True. Since he already got a piece of your ass, why bother with dinner?” Brooke joked.
“You’re sick.” Gina laughed.
She didn’t laugh enough. Since Gina survived the bombing in Afghanistan, she not only lost chunks of her flesh and had permanent pieces of shrapnel still in her body, but her outlandish sense of humor as well. Brooke had held back during the first six months of recovery, but she wanted her friend back mentally and emotionally.
Seeing her out and about, willing to take on this project with Brooke, was the first time any tinge of excitement sparkled in her eyes since before the bombing. It would be therapeutic for them all. Maybe they’d even hold a camp for burn victims.
That could take time for Fish to be ready to talk to others outside her close circle of friends, though.
“Do you have a master plan of what you want to start with?” Gina took out a notebook and a pen.
“I’ve got it all on my laptop. Nobody uses paper and pen these days.” Brooke opened her computer and clicked on the folder she’d made a few weeks ago.
“Handwriting and drawing are a lost art, no pun intended. I’m not balking at technology, but sometimes writing notes the old-fashioned way sparks more creativity.”
“To each their own.” Brooke slid onto the barstool and patted the one next to her. “I’ve made a list. It’s kind of long.” Three pages long to be exact.
She spent the next hour going over her vision for the property and what she needed Fish’s help with. Mostly it was giving the cabins and rec hall some sort of style or theme. Right now, the old clapboard buildings were pretty boring.
“Let’s go check it out again. I barely remember what the place even looks like.” Gina closed her notebook and tucked the pen inside the spirals.
“After you.” Brooke gestured toward the door, and they headed out to her car.
It only took a few minutes to follow the dirt road onto Beaver Dam Road. Another mile and she turned into the long gravel drive that led to the camp.
“It’s much bigger than I remember.”
“That’s because we only checked out the back of the property by the rec hall and shorefront. There’s tons of space back here.” She parked her car in what she assumed was the old parking lot and pocketed her phone and keys. “I’ll show you around.”
They walked the perimeter of the property and then went inside each of the eight bunkhouses.
“They’re pretty nasty,” Gina said as she swatted at spider webs. “The musty smell we can air out. We should open these windows. And if we’re going to have boys and girls stay here, we’ll need shades or curtains for privacy.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.” Brooke banged the heel of her hand against one window until it loosened and opened it. “All the screens need to be replaced as well.”
“I wouldn’t want to paint over the wood. It’s so dry, it will soak it up faster than we can coat it anyway. Maybe whitewash the walls or ceiling to bring a little life to the space? We’ll need to make sure the curtains pass whatever fire codes as well.”
“You know me, I’m plain and simple. I hadn’t thought about jazzing up the cabins.”
“I can keep to a budget. Just let me know.”
Buying the twelve-acre, waterfront property for a buck meant she still had five million to work with. After meeting with an accountant, she learned how much she’d need for insurance and incidentals. On Monday, she’d meet with a contractor to get an estimate on building repairs. With her summer free, she wanted to do most of the labor, but would hire out for the bigger projects, and of course, for the electrical and plumbing.
There was a lot to think about. In the end, she’d still have a healthy chunk of cash to invest for future years. The idea was to keep the cost to the campers at a minimum. Or free, if they could raise enough money year after year.
“Why don’t you write down your ideas for the cabins and we’ll price things out. After I meet with the contractor on Monday, I’ll have a better idea of how much structural work will need to be done to the buildings.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Gina scribbled in her notebook before closing it and tucked her pen into the spiral binding.
Brooke opened the door to the main hall. “This pl
ace will need a lot of work. The rodents have taken over the kitchen and something has been chewing at the tables for the past two decades.”
She kicked at the leg of a table, surprised it didn’t collapse. “I like the setup of the long tables and bench seating, but it will all need to be replaced. This,” she said, walking over to the stone fireplace, “is gorgeous.”
The stone fireplace took up the center of the room and had to be at least fifteen feet wide. It stood independently in the center of the room, the stones reaching all the way to the cathedral ceiling until the chimney poked through the roof.
It was massive. The mantels on both sides made out a heavy beam still felt sturdy when Brooke tested it.
“I love how it opens on both sides so everyone can see the fire and feel the heat,” Gina said as she wandered to the other side.
Brooke crouched and peeked through the opening. “It’ll take a lot of wood to fill this space. What do you think, four-foot logs?”
“It’s not like we’ll have many fires during the summer anyway.”
“True.” She would love to offer winter camps as well. Ice skating on the pond, snowshoeing and cross-country skiing right from the lodge, which sounded much nicer than calling it a mess hall. “We need to name the buildings. Not only the cabins, but this place as well. I don’t like calling it the mess hall. It sounds... I dunno. Messy.”
“I hear you.” Gina came back around the giant stone fireplace. “Rec hall? They’ll be doing a lot of their craft projects in here. Another reason to have giant ass tables.”
“But they’ll also be eating in here. It’s the center of the camp. I’ll start a group chat later and see if the sisters can come up with a cool name.”
“You thinking about a theme? What’s the camp called?” Gina took out her notebook again and chewed on the end of her pen.
Brooke hadn’t thought about that one yet. She’d need to come up with something soon for the web designers and marketing team Skye wanted to spearhead.
Ten Million Fireflies (Band of Sisters) Page 5
