“See what?” She tried not to sound too curious. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Your gifts,” Dan said simply, as if that were any clearer.
“What gifts?” Had he gotten her something? That would be awkward.
“Well, for starters, you’re great with the kids. They all love you. And as much as you try to hide it, you have a big heart for them.”
Oh. Those kinds of gifts.
Dan turned his head to give her a smile that made her pulse speed up nearly as much as it had when she’d slipped on the ropes course.
She reminded herself that he was just being nice.
“And―” Dan continued. “You’re willing to try new things and push out of your comfort zone and―”
“And I screamed at ladybugs, massacred the eggs, and froze on the ropes course,” Jade filled in, hitting him with a scowl. He needed to stop looking at her through rose-tinted glasses. If he wanted to talk about the perfect camp leader, he should go find Grace, who’d set a new record on the high ropes course after Jade had finally gotten down.
But he shrugged. “Those things aren’t what matters. You’re being a Christian role model for these kids.”
She almost snorted. Christian role model was the last thing she would describe herself as.
“I’m serious, Jade.” Dan’s gaze landed directly on her, and she found she couldn’t break it. “You have no idea the impact you’re having on these kids just by being there for them.”
Jade studied her chipped fingernails. Whether she was a good influence on the kids or not, she owed Dan a thank you. “Thanks for talking me down up there. I was half afraid we’d have to call Mr. Henning to come get me down again.”
“Thanks for trusting me.” Dan’s voice went soft, and Jade turned to look at him.
He was watching her with a hint of that look he used to give her. The one that said he wanted to know her—really know her, not assume he knew her based on what he’d already seen or heard from others.
“You’re the only one I would have trusted.” She probably shouldn’t have said it out loud, but for some reason it was suddenly important to her that he know. She wasn’t sure why she’d trusted him. Other than the fact that he was the one person in the world, aside from Vi, she knew would never do anything to hurt her.
But now that the words were hanging between them, she wished she could draw them back in.
“Anyway, I guess I have trust issues.” She attempted a lighthearted laugh but failed miserably.
The truth was, she didn’t want to be like this. She didn’t want to be afraid that the moment she let down her guard with someone, they’d take off on her. Didn’t want to always be the first one to bail so the other person couldn’t.
“Why?” Dan asked.
“Why what?”
“Why do you think you have trust issues?”
She scratched at a mosquito bite on her leg. “It’s just who I am, I guess.”
“Jade.” Dan’s voice held that tone he’d always used to call her out when she put on what he called her “tough guy” act.
“I don’t know.” She dragged her fingers through her hair. How many sleepless nights had she spent trying to figure out why she was so broken? “Blame it on my dad, I guess.”
“He left when you were little, right?”
“Yeah.” Jade didn’t know what was going on. She almost never talked about her dad, and now this was twice in two days that she’d mentioned him.
“He didn’t say goodbye. We came home from school one day, and he was gone.” Jade bit her lip. That sounded a little too familiar.
But Dan was too good of a guy to point out that she’d done the same thing to him.
“That must have been awful.” He looked like he was going to reach for her hands, so she tucked them under her legs.
“It was no big deal. I don’t know why I brought it up.” It was time to shut this conversation down before she let herself get drawn into wanting something she couldn’t have.
“Jade―”
But she jumped to her feet. “I should get to bed. That awful wake-up bugle of yours comes painfully early.”
He stood too, still eying her, and she shifted on her feet.
“I know you don’t think you’re good at this.” He gestured at the woods and cabins surrounding them. “But you are. And―” He scuffed his shoe on the ground. “I’m glad you came.”
“Yeah. I’m kind of glad too.” She tapped his foot with hers, then turned to walk to her cabin.
The night had grown chilly, but she barely noticed, with Dan’s words warming her from the inside.
Chapter 19
Wow.
It was the only word that came to Dan’s mind as he watched Jade cross the clearing in the early morning light. Her face was animated as she chatted with the group of girls surrounding her. In the four days they’d been at camp, he’d seen a more dramatic change in her than he’d perhaps ever seen in anyone in his life.
She’d lost the sullen look that had been her nearly perpetual expression as long as he’d known her. Now it was only in rare moments that he caught her without a smile. And when she was with the kids, she seemed to almost glow. Working with them definitely brought out the best in her.
“Good morning, Pastor Dan.” Jade directed her smile toward him but didn’t look him in the eyes.
Which didn’t keep his insides from lighting up—something that had been happening more and more lately.
Jade shepherded the girls to sit behind the boys, who were already seated on the ground. Since Tyler and Grace were on breakfast duty today, he and Jade would oversee the morning devotion.
Once the girls were all seated, Jade lowered herself to the ground in the back row, but Dan shook his head. She may have assumed she was only here as an observer, but she was wrong.
“Uh, Miss Jade?”
“Yes, Pastor Dan?” Still that beautiful smile. Still not looking him in the eyes.
“Usually the devotion leaders sit up here.” He patted the top of the picnic table, right next to where he was sitting.
If it weren’t for the fact that the kids were watching him and the fact that he didn’t want to embarrass her, he’d have burst into laughter at the way her eyes widened and her chin dropped.
“Oh, I thought I’d―”
“Make me do all the work?” Dan grinned at her as the kids giggled. “Not a chance. Come on.”
Jade’s mouth closed into a tight, unhappy smile. She wasn’t comfortable with this. He knew that.
But he also knew she could do it, even if she didn’t realize it yet.
Keeping her back to the kids and her teeth clenched, she leaned toward him. “I have no idea how to lead a devotion.” If he read her expression right, she was ready to punch him.
“You’ll be great.” Dan passed her the Bible, which he’d already opened to the day’s reading. “Start right there.” He pointed. “Psalm twenty-five, verses four through seven.”
Jade hit him with one more disapproving look, then yanked the Bible out of his hands and spun to face the kids. He had to give her credit—the kids would never know by looking at her that she’d wanted to poke his eyes out a second ago.
Probably still did.
But this would be good for her. He knew it would.
Please let it be. He sent up the quick prayer as Jade began to read.
“Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths.” Jade’s voice shook slightly, and her finger traced a line under the words. “Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.”
Her voice had grown stronger as she read. She picked her head up to survey the kids, who had all quieted and were listening attentively.
“Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love, for they are from of old. Do not remember―” Jade paused, and he could tell she was letting her eyes scan ahead. She swallowed, but when she spoke, her voice was clear. “Do not remember th
e sins of my youth and my rebellious ways; according to your love remember me, for you, Lord, are good.”
As Jade finished the verse, she closed her eyes. It may have been a trick of the rising light, but when she opened them again, he was almost sure they sparked with unshed tears. He blinked away the sudden emotion that overcame him as well.
He never failed to be moved when he saw God’s Word taking hold in someone’s heart. And the fact that someone was Jade right now was the answer to about a million prayers he’d offered for her over the years.
He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the kids. “Does anyone have any questions or anything they want to talk about from those verses?”
A few of the kids raised their hands, and Dan allowed himself an internal fist pump. It was early, these kids hadn’t had breakfast yet, and here they were, eager to discuss God’s Word.
He called on Oliver, a precocious eight-year-old he’d had to get out of more than one sticky situation this week.
“That sounded like a prayer, not the Bible,” Oliver said.
Dan nodded. “Good observation, Oliver. That’s what the psalms are—prayers and songs to God.”
Henry, Oliver’s cohort in crime, raised his hand. “Whose prayer is it?”
“King David.” Jade answered before he could, and his head swiveled to her in surprise.
She looked as shocked as he felt. “Right?”
“Yeah. It’s King David’s prayer.”
“But why would a king need to pray that?” Henry called out without raising his hand. “He’s the king.”
Jade kept her eyes on Dan, clearly waiting for him to take this one, but he gestured for her to go ahead.
She licked her lips. “Well―” She stopped, her eyes pleading for him to step in and help. But he knew she knew this.
“Well―” She dragged the word out. “Everyone needs to pray—even kings.”
Henry nodded, apparently satisfied, and Dan got ready to call on another student, but Jade tapped the Bible she still held.
“I mean, even kings sinned, right? And if I remember correctly from my Sunday school days, David sinned a lot. So I guess he needed God’s forgiveness a lot.” She looked at Dan meekly. “Or am I totally off base here?”
“You’re right on base.”
Her face relaxed, and she pointed to Samantha for the next question. Dan sat up, on alert. He’d counseled Sam after the young teen had been picked up for shoplifting. She could be tough to get through to.
“But God can’t really forget, can he?” Sam’s voice was defiant, as if challenging Jade to answer the question.
“What do you mean forget?” Jade’s tone was gentle and non-defensive, and Dan could have hugged her. Any other tone likely would have made Sam shut down.
“I mean, David’s praying that God won’t remember the sins of his youth. But good luck with that. I mean, he’s God. He’s perfect. So he can’t forget, right?”
Jade pointed at Sam. “That is an excellent question. In fact, I was wondering the very same thing. Pastor Dan, could you help us out here?”
Dan leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “You’re right.” He sought out Sam’s eyes. “God is perfect. So I guess that means he never forgets anything. Which would be a great skill to have when it comes to a science test, right? How many bones does a giraffe have? God knows because he created them, and he never forgets a single detail.”
Sam’s face fell, and Jade slid closer to Dan on the picnic table, pointing to a verse in the Bible. But Dan kept going, giving each of them a gentle smile. “But God would totally bomb a test where he had to name each one of our sins. Because when he looks at us, he sees Jesus. He sees the perfect life Jesus lived for us and the innocent death he died to pay for our sins. Jesus took them all away. They are gone. God can’t remember them because they don’t exist anymore.”
Sam nodded, looking relieved, but Jade frowned at him. “Why would he do that?”
Dan leaned close enough to read the Bible over her shoulder, his finger landing at the end of verse seven. “According to your love.”
Jade lifted her eyes to his. There was still doubt there, but behind it, there was something more.
Something that looked a lot like hope.
The big dinner bell outside the mess hall clanged, making both of them jump.
“Okay, campers, off to breakfast and then we’ve got all kinds of stuff planned for today, since it’s our last full day here.”
As the kids scampered toward the food, Jade passed him his Bible. “Sorry I didn’t have all the answers.”
He almost reached to tuck a stray hair into her ponytail but stopped himself at the last second. “It’s okay not to have all the answers. It was actually good for the kids to see that faith doesn’t depend on knowing everything.”
“And you really believe God forgets about all our past sins?”
Her gaze was intense, but he returned it without flinching. “I really believe that.”
“Well.” Jade started toward the mess hall. “Even if God forgets, people don’t.”
Dan thought about arguing. About saying that he’d forgotten.
But no matter how much he wanted that to be true, it wasn’t.
Chapter 20
Sweat rolled down Jade’s neck, and she took a swig from the water bottle on her hip. They must have hiked at least four miles already, and the girls in front of her were starting to lag. Their chatter had long since quieted, and now they simply plodded, one foot in front of the other.
But the long walk was exactly what Jade had needed. She tipped her face skyward, taking in the tops of the trees that arched over the trail, spots of flawless blue sky showing through the foliage. It didn’t take much effort to believe in God when she was surrounded by all this majesty.
On the first day of camp, she’d watched her feet as she walked, simply hoping to survive the week. But now that camp was almost over, she found herself wishing it could last longer. Church camp was nowhere near where she’d imagined her life taking her, but after spending most of her life feeling directionless, it was nice to wake up each day with a purpose. She wouldn’t miss the bugs, but these kids had grown on her, and she didn’t know how she would fill her days without them. Plus, she’d finally mastered cooking scrambled eggs and putting together woodsy crafts—and she’d even managed to complete the high ropes course yesterday with a respectable time. But her most shocking accomplishment of all had to be this morning’s devotion. She’d never imagined she could enjoy reading the Bible, let alone talking about it. But now that she’d done it, she found she kind of craved a chance to do it again. But once she returned to her real life, all of this would be only a memory. There was no way to make it last.
“Miss Jade, Penelope’s off the path.” Melody’s voice cut into her thoughts.
She dropped her eyes to the girls. Sure enough, Penelope had wandered a few steps off the trail to a patch of purple coneflowers.
“Aren’t they pretty?” Penelope asked, reaching to touch the petals.
“Let’s keep going, Pen.” Jade stopped to wait for the little girl, letting her gaze drift to the lake below. They’d kayaked across it yesterday—something else she’d never thought she’d enjoy.
“Ouch!” Penelope’s scream made Jade’s head snap to her.
“What happened?”
Penelope stood in front of the flowers, her right hand clutching her upper left arm. Her face was scrunched in pain, and tears ran down her cheeks as she continued to scream.
Jade ran to her side and crouched next to her, reaching to lift Penelope’s hand off her arm so she could take a look. But Penelope tightened her grip and refused to let go.
“Pen, you have to let me see it so I can help.” Jade pried the little girl’s hand off, but Penelope clapped it right back onto her arm.
“Madison,” Jade called to her oldest camper. “Run ahead and get Pastor Dan. The rest of you stay put for a minute.”
Dan�
��s group was in the lead, so they were probably at least a quarter mile ahead. Madison sprinted off, and Jade lowered herself to sit on the ground next to Penelope. The little girl was crying so hard she was shaking, and Jade wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in close. If only she could do more to make the small girl feel safe.
After a few minutes, footsteps pounded toward them.
Thank goodness. Dan would know what to do.
“What happened?” Dan crouched at her side, worry filling his eyes.
“I don’t know. She was smelling some flowers, and I looked away for a second, and then she started screaming.”
Why had she looked away? Penelope was her responsibility, and she hadn’t protected her. Dan never should have trusted her with the kids.
Dan turned to Penelope. “Do you think I could peek at your arm?”
Penelope shook her head.
“What if Miss Jade looks at it? She’d never do anything to hurt you, right?”
At Penelope’s slow nod, Jade let out a breath.
“Good girl.” Jade smoothed Penelope’s hair off her cheek. “You’re so brave.”
Penelope lifted her hand to reveal a small red dot with a white center. Jade breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, sweetie. You have a bee sting. Pastor Dan is going to remove the stinger, and then it will feel a lot better.”
But Penelope squirmed away as Dan reached to touch her arm.
She buried her face in Jade’s neck. “I want you to do it.”
Jade grimaced. She’d had an allergic reaction to a bee sting once as a kid. It hadn’t been too serious, but it was enough for the doctor to prescribe her an EpiPen. Which she should probably have with her now, come to think of it. Instead of in her purse back in the cabin.
She pushed the thought aside. What were the odds that she would get stung by a bee too?
But no one had ever told her if it was dangerous to simply remove a stinger from someone else.
Penelope’s fresh wails made the decision for her. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll get it out. But you have to be super brave and hold very still.”
At Penelope’s nod, Jade shifted her so that she could reach her arm, then placed her fingernail at the edge of the stinger and scraped.
Not Until Us (Hope Springs Book 4) Page 10
