by Judy Duarte
“That’s what I like about it.”
For a guy who’d refurbished a classic vehicle and kept it shiny and clean, he didn’t appear to be concerned about the bumps or dust.
Adam steered the vehicle to the left and drove under an archway of weathered wood, its lettering, once painted black, no longer legible. “As far as I’m concerned, this place is Wexler’s best-kept secret.”
“It’s certainly pretty out here.” Julie studied the setting—a pristine lake that wasn’t much bigger than a pond, dogwood trees that rustled in the wind. She might not be a camping enthusiast, but if she had to spend a rustic night outdoors, this would be a nice place to do it.
She counted ten different campsites, only two of which were occupied—one by an older couple in a small motor home with a faded blue awning and the other by a couple of teenage boys with a green pup tent. She also spotted a small cinder block building that had to house the restrooms.
Adam drove to the campsite farthest from the others and parked. Then he turned to the backseat and asked the kids, “What do you guys think?”
Eddie, who’d been studying the area wide-eyed, turned to his sister. “This is awesome, huh, Cassie? It’s going to be way cool.”
The little girl nodded sagely. Even the dog, whose tongue hung out of its mouth as it panted, appeared to agree.
“When are we going to put up the tents?” Eddie asked.
“Right now. But first, someone is going to have to take Biscuit for a walk.”
Cassie tugged at Adam’s sleeve. “I... I’ll...do it.”
He smiled and placed his hand along the side of her head, stroking the blond strands. “That would be great. Thank you, honey.” Then he turned to Julie. “Would you mind tagging along with them?”
“Not at all.” Julie glanced at the rack on the roof of the Bronco, assuming several of the long boxes held the tents. “You have a lot of stuff to unpack. Do you want us to help you unload the car first?”
“No, that’s not necessary.” Adam placed his hand on the boy’s small shoulder. “Half the fun is in setting up camp. It’ll also give Eddie and me a chance for guy-talk.”
“Then thank you for letting us off the hook,” Julie said. “We’d rather enjoy the pretty surroundings anyway.”
“Good choice.” Adam lifted the Bronco’s back hatch, then lowered the tailgate. The vehicle was jam-packed with gear, including an ice chest and what appeared to be a box of food.
Again, Julie hesitated. “Are you sure we can’t help?”
“Yep.” Adam turned to Eddie and winked. “We’ve got this, don’t we?”
Eddie nodded firmly, seriousness stamped across his face.
Julie fought a smile, yet she was reluctant to leave. For one reason, she always tried to pull her own weight. She’d also enjoy watching Adam’s muscles flex as he lifted boxes.
Then again, taking Biscuit for a walk would allow her time to talk to Cassie. And if she was lucky, she might entice the girl to open up and speak more than a few words at a time.
“All right then.” Julie took the dog’s leash, then reached for Cassie’s hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s check out our surroundings.”
They took their time walking along the creek, taking in the sounds of running water, twigs breaking under their feet and the caws of a territorial black crow.
As Julie took in a deep breath, savoring the fresh air and the warmth of the sun on her face, Cassie gasped, then pointed ahead. “Look.”
Julie froze in her tracks, fearing a snake or a lizard or...maybe even a bear. “What is it?”
“A pretty rock.” Cassie released Julie’s hand and hurried toward a small reddish stone. She lifted it off the ground, studied it in awe then turned to Julie with a smile.
“You’re right,” Julie said. “That is a pretty one. And it’s shaped like a heart.”
“I know!” The child studied her precious find.
“Let’s take it back to camp with us. Maybe you can collect more things to help you remember what we did today.”
Fifteen minutes later, with their pockets stuffed with more rocks for their collection, Julie and Cassie returned to the campsite, where Adam had already set up two small tents, one for her and Cassie to share, the other for him and Eddie.
“It’s looking good,” Julie said, although she couldn’t help admiring the dark-haired hunk who was lifting the last box from the roof rack, his muscles flexing, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. He was strong, confident and handsome. He’d make the perfect husband. Not just on paper, but in every sense of the word.
After placing the box of food on the wooden picnic table, next to a couple of fishing poles and several battery-operated lanterns, Adam handed a sleeping bag to Eddie. “Here you go. Let’s put two of these in each tent.”
Next Adam passed another sleeping bag to Cassie. “Help your brother set these out. Okay?”
The girl nodded eagerly, then hurried to do as she was told. Julie walked over to the picnic table and studied the contents of the box. Then she peeked into the ice chest. In addition to hot dogs, ketchup, small boxes of juice and milk, Adam had packed a bottle of white wine.
Her cheeks warmed, and a smile stole across her face. The day had started out great, and the night promised to be even better.
When the kids returned from setting out the sleeping bags, she did her best to rope in her stray thoughts and to mask the grin that kept popping up whenever she thought about the sun going down and the moon rising.
“I love it out here.” Eddie gave his little sister a nudge. “Don’t you, Cassie?”
She nodded but didn’t say a word this time. But that was okay. She’d not only been talking more, lately, but she was also stronger, braver and happier than when she first arrived at Kidville.
And that was just one more reason for the social worker to let both Eddie and Cassie either live with Julie or to remain at Kidville.
“What’s the big trash bag for?” Eddie asked Adam.
“We need to clean up after ourselves. We don’t want to leave a mess.”
Responsible. Hardworking. A guy who cared about kids. Adam Santiago had proven to be the kind of man Julie had always dreamed of finding. And the fact that he was also drop-dead gorgeous was an extra perk.
For a camping novice, she looked forward to a new adventure, to watching the sun set and, when darkness fell, sitting around a campfire. As much as she enjoyed being with Eddie and Cassie, she was also looking forward to the time they went to bed, when she’d be able to spend the rest of the evening with Adam.
* * *
“So how did you like fishing?” Adam asked Eddie as they headed back to camp.
“It was sort of fun, but we didn’t catch any fish to eat for dinner.”
“Maybe next time they’ll be biting and we’ll catch a bunch. But don’t worry about going hungry. We’re going to fill up on hot dogs.”
“But how?” the boy asked. “I didn’t see any pots or pans.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered. I brought metal coat hangers.”
The boy scrunched his face, clearly confused. “Huh?”
Adam chuckled. “We’ll untwist the hangers, stick a hot dog on the end and roast them over the campfire. Just wait and see. It’ll be even more fun than fishing.”
Sure enough, after Adam got a good fire going in the pit and untwisted four coat hangers, he showed the kids and Julie how to stick the end through the wiener and hold them over the flames.
“Hey,” Eddie said. “This is fun! And holding on to this wire is kind of like a fishing pole. But instead of a fish at the end, I got a hot dog.”
Adam shot a glance at Julie, who was seated next to Cassie. Her blond hair had been pulled back in a ponytail, and her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. She projected a girl-next-door image. But instead of avoiding
her, like he’d first considered doing, he wanted to scoot closer, to sit beside her, to watch the flickering flames as the fire died down and to count the stars.
Sheesh. Could he get any cornier than that?
Adam glanced at Biscuit, who sat beside him, watching them all like a family pet, her tail swishing against the ground. He removed an uncooked beef frank from the package, broke it in two, then offered her a bite. She sniffed at it, then drew back. She repeated that same movement before giving in and taking the meat she clearly wanted. Then she gobbled it up.
She’d come a long way. And so had Eddie and Cassie, who smiled and giggled and chattered like other kids, the ones who grew up in decent homes with loving parents. Thinking about their metamorphosis and knowing he’d played a part in it brought a smile to his face and filled his chest with warmth.
After they’d eaten their hot dogs, Adam showed them how to make s’mores for dessert.
“I could live out here forever,” Eddie said as he licked his sticky fingers.
“Me, too.” Cassie looked up at the night sky, at the twinkling stars overhead, then broke into a bright-eyed grin. “This is my funnest day ever.”
“It sure is special.” Julie looked at Adam and blessed him with a smile, making him feel pretty damned special, too.
After helping the kids wash their gooey hands and faces, Julie said, “Next time I’ll have to bring my guitar.”
Eddie pointed to the Bronco. “But then we’d have to bring two cars because I don’t think we could fit another thing or person or dog in that one.”
“Good point,” Adam said.
“I like it when you play music,” Cassie said.
“Me, too.” Eddie reached out to the dog and stroked her head. As the critter leaned into his hand, the boy took the hint and scratched behind her ear.
“We don’t need an instrument to sing,” Julie said. “I’ll show you.”
She broke into their favorite song she’d taught them, about a little speckled frog, and even Adam joined in. Then she taught them more silly ditties, about a peanut on a railroad track and an old woman who swallowed a fly.
Adam found himself enjoying the night in a way he hadn’t expected to. And while this evening was a far cry from the many camping trips he’d taken with Stan at this very same campsite, it was turning into a special memory of its own.
Before long, the kids began to yawn. So Julie took them to the restroom, their way lit by the light outside the cinder block building. When they returned to camp, Julie told the kids to put on their pajamas. Then she tucked them in, one at a time, and promised that she and Adam would join them shortly.
He probably should have helped with the bedtime stuff, but he felt out of his league, so he took the dog for a walk instead. Besides, the maternal role seemed to come naturally to Julie. Not that he had any firsthand experience to go by himself, but the kids sure responded to her TLC.
Finally, when he returned, he found Julie sitting by the campfire, and he placed his chair next to hers.
When it came to romance, Adam didn’t need any props, but this was different. Julie was different.
He walked over to the icebox and pulled out the bottle of chardonnay he’d packed. “How about a glass of wine? I wasn’t sure how things would go today, and I thought we might want to unwind at the end of it.”
“I’m feeling pretty mellow,” she said, “but a glass of wine sounds good.”
“We’ll have to drink out of disposable cups.”
“That’s fine with me. I expected us to be roughing it tonight.”
Adam filled two red plastic cups, then handed one to Julie and took his seat beside her. When she broke into a bright-eyed smile, the sheer pleasure and force of it knocked him off stride, and he couldn’t remember why he’d once thought they weren’t well suited. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten just about everything but his name.
Up until now, he’d regretted that kiss they’d shared. Not because it hadn’t been hot, but because it had. And tonight, while crickets chirped in the background and the flames licked the logs in the fire ring, it seemed like the perfect time for another one.
The old Adam, the one Julie didn’t know, wouldn’t have given it a second thought. He would have known just what to do. But this new guy, the one he was trying to be, wasn’t so sure of himself these days.
* * *
Julie set aside her wine and went to check on the kids, who’d been quiet for about fifteen minutes. And just as she’d expected, they had both crashed, even with the battery-operated lanterns casting a soft white light inside.
When she returned to the firepit and headed for the lawn chair she’d just vacated, Adam asked, “Are they asleep?”
“Yes, and I don’t think it took very long, either.” She sat in the chair next to his, which seemed a wee bit closer to his than it had been before, but probably wasn’t. Maybe knowing that they were on their own now made it seem that way. Either way, she didn’t mind. She’d been looking forward to having some quiet time with him.
“They had to be exhausted,” she added.
“They definitely had a good time today.”
“That’s for sure.” Julie glanced at Biscuit, who was curled up next to the fire. The poor dog was worn out, too. But Julie wasn’t the least bit sleepy.
She took a sip of wine from the plastic cup. “I can see why you like camping, especially here. It’s so peaceful.”
“I know. And when you’re an unhappy kid with a king-size chip on his shoulder, it can be healing.”
She turned, her knee brushing up against his thigh. Warmth that had nothing to do with the campfire radiated through her. She felt compelled to dwell on it, to enjoy the way it stirred her hormones, but there was so much about Adam she wanted to know, and he’d just broached the subject of his past again.
“Your early years must have been pretty rough,” she said.
“To say the least. I grew up in a broken home, which would have been bad enough. But the dynamics kept changing.”
“How so?”
“Let’s just say my mom never slept with a man she didn’t marry. And the men seemed to come in and out of our lives like they were passing through a revolving door.”
Julie’s life had been blessed by comparison, although hard times came after her father returned from the war. “I take it your dad was out of the picture.”
“Completely. I never knew him. He left when I was a toddler. When I was four, she married a functional alcoholic who put food on the table and kept a roof over our heads. But once he got home each night, he opened a case of beer, parked in front of the TV and drank until he fell asleep.”
That probably meant Adam hadn’t had to deal with violent outbursts like she had. At least, that was her take on it.
“Mom’s second marriage might have lasted if the guy hadn’t decided to change his routine one evening. On his way home, he stopped by a local bar. Several hours and about seven drinks later, he died in a single-car accident, his blood-alcohol level two times the legal limit.”
Julie winced. “That’s too bad.”
“In a way, it was. But he had an insurance policy that paid off the mortgage and left my mom with a small nest egg.”
“I guess there’s always a bright side.”
Adam chuffed. “That might have been a lifesaver, if she hadn’t remarried. My second stepdad was a charmer with a gambling addiction. When his luck ran out, so did he, leaving my mom in a real financial bind. Come to find out, she’d refinanced her house and depleted her savings account, as small as it was, to pay off several of his gambling debts. After they divorced, she had to get two jobs to make ends meet. And that left me to fend for myself as a latchkey kid.”
“No wonder you have a soft spot for children.”
“Yeah.” Adam studied the flames, which were dying down. A couple of
logs sat next to the firepit, but he didn’t move. “If my mom had remained single, we both would have been better off, but the third guy also had a drinking problem. And when he drank, he got mean. Instead of shutting down in front of the TV for the night, he’d get mad as hell for no reason and smack anyone who got within his reach.”
She’d been wrong. He’d suffered violence in his life, too. “I’m sorry.”
He tore his gaze away from the fire. “Hey, it happens. There are a lot of kids who have it worse than I did. At least the neighbors finally called the police, and child protective services stepped in and placed me in foster care.”
She hurt for the little boy he’d once been, yet she was proud of the man he’d become in spite of it all.
“That’s enough about me,” Adam said. “You had a charmed childhood, and I don’t want to bore you with any more of the ugly details of mine.”
“I’m not the least bit bored. And for the record, my early years were wonderful, but my life took a bad turn after my mom passed away.”
“How did she die?”
“She had an aggressive form of pancreatic cancer and died within a month of the diagnosis.” Julie glanced up at the sky, as if her mom was looking down on her and offering compassion for the pain Julie had felt at losing her, at the fear she’d felt facing an unknown future without her mother.
“How old were you?” Adam asked.
“Fifteen. The army sent my dad home in time for the funeral, but I barely recognized him. He was gaunt, pale and had a dazed look in his eyes I assumed was caused by grief. And some of it probably was. I didn’t know it then, but he was suffering from PTSD.”
She wasn’t sure why she was opening up and sharing her personal pain. But it only seemed fair, since he’d opened up to her. So the words and memories seemed to flow. “My dad used to have these loud, violent outbursts. I did my best to keep things peaceful at home. I was afraid the neighbors would complain, that if they called the police, they might lock him up and send me into foster care.”
