how open-minded she was, Megan asked lightly, “So, who threw the first punch?”
No one answered. Moreover, all but one of the boys looked away.
“What’s your name?” Megan asked him.
The slightly built teen leered at her, then raised his eyebrows and gave her a blatant once-over. “Zac,” he drawled. “What’s yours, sweet thing?”
Megan managed to stifle her surprise enough to answer, “You may all call me Miss Megan or Miss White,” then switched her concentration to the others to avoid further eye contact with the outspoken boy.
“My sister and I’ve been invited to eat with you tonight,” she told the group. “If you’ll lead the way, I’d like to see the dining hall.”
“Can’t,” Zac announced. “We gotta wash up first or the old man’ll have our hide. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” He then rounded up the smaller boys as if he were their scoutmaster and herded them toward their dorm.
It had occurred to Megan that James might expect her to accompany them but she decided that that much close observation wasn’t necessary. Or wise. The boys were just taking a short detour on their way to supper. Besides, she didn’t want to give Zac another opportunity to taunt her until she’d learned more about his background. Sweet thing, indeed!
She wandered in the general direction everyone else had gone, still chuckling about Zac’s ridiculous remarks. Imagine, calling James Harris an old man! If there was ever a guy who didn’t look or act old, it was the camp director. Then again, he had to be eight or ten years her senior. Making him maybe midthirties.
Which was far from ancient, Megan mused, although right at the moment, her overworked muscles were insisting she was at least ninety…and counting.
She rubbed her sore back through the T-shirt. Dressing everyone alike had its advantages, though she would have preferred a color brighter than sky-blue. Oh, well, at least she was clean. The jeans she’d worn during their refurbishing project were so filthy she couldn’t have tolerated them much longer.
A melding of wonderful aromas identified the camp kitchen. Looking for her sister, Megan peered through the screen door before opening it. Inside, a middle-aged, obviously harried woman with bright red hair was dashing back and forth between the stove and dining area. Roxy was nowhere to be seen.
“Grab my biscuits out of the oven, will you?” the woman hollered as soon as she spotted Megan. “There’s a hot pad over there, on the counter.”
“Sure. By the way, I’m Megan White, Roxy’s sister. Is she around?”
“In the bathroom primpin’, last I saw her.”
“That figures. You must be Inez Gogerty.”
“In the flesh,” the older woman said. “Forgot my manners for a minute there. Sorry. I got behind when the boss showed up needin’ ice.”
“For the little boy’s nose? How is he?”
“Fine. Mostly hurt his pride, I ’spect. That kind of thing happens all the time ’round here. You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m hoping it won’t happen as often after I get my project going.”
“The critters? Yeah, I heard. Ol’ James’s not exactly tickled pink about that. Course, I ’spect you know that.”
Megan smiled. “He did mention it.”
“I’ll just bet he did.” Inez looked her over and chortled. “You must be a lot tougher than you look.”
“I have my moments,” Megan answered. “Have you known Mr. Harris a long time?”
“Since he was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
“What was he like?”
“Oh, he was okay.” The cook scooped hot biscuits into a bowl, covered it, then handed it to Megan. “That goes next to the green beans. I hope everybody gets here before the fried chicken gets cold.”
“The boys are on their way,” Megan said. “Zac took them to wash up first.”
Inez nodded, her short, henna curls bobbing. “That should be interesting. You want to know what James was like as a boy, you just look at that there Zachary.”
“Oh, my.”
“Yup. He was a little smart aleck all right. Good-hearted, though, in spite of all the fixes he got himself into. His folks gave up tryin’ to cope with him and packed him off to boarding school just in time to avoid a set-to with the law. Nobody heard from him for years. When he finally showed up back in Serenity, he was all growed up.”
“Are his parents still around?”
“Nope. Whole family left town after they sent him away. Far as I know, he lost touch with everybody, even his brothers. Course, that wasn’t no accident.”
Megan was appalled. “You mean, he doesn’t want to find them? Why not? They’re his family.”
“He told me they’d disowned him, not the other way around. That’s good enough for me,” Inez said flatly. “Just because somebody’s born into a family doesn’t mean they have to stay in it if they’re not wanted.”
“Don’t you think they’re worried about him?”
From behind her a deep voice said, “No.”
Startled, Megan whirled. James was standing in the doorway, a clean-faced Bobby Joe half-hidden behind him. She forced a smile. “Hi. We were just talking about you.”
“So I gathered.”
“I wasn’t being nosy,” Megan explained. “I just wanted to understand what motivates you, what makes you the person you are.”
“Hard knocks,” he said. “Any other questions?”
“Only why you choose to hold a grudge and cut yourself off from your family,” she blurted, before taking time to fully censor her thoughts.
James huffed. “It wasn’t my decision to go away in the first place, and it wasn’t me who didn’t leave a forwarding address. If my folks don’t care, why should I?”
“How about your brothers?” Megan asked. “Have you done a search on the Internet? I’ll be bringing a laptop with me when I move in. You’re welcome to borrow it if you want.”
“Believe it or not, Camp Refuge not only has electricity, a telephone and indoor plumbing, it also has its own computer system. Your notion of us being dumb, backward hillbillies is outdated, Ms. White.”
“I didn’t mean anything like that. I was just trying to make a sensible suggestion.”
“I know.” He spoke with resignation and a quiet sigh. “That’s a big part of our problem. You’re determined to help me in spite of everything I’ve told you, and I don’t need or want any help. It’s as simple as that.”
“I’d
