it’s safe. She’s gone.”
“Thank goodness. I was getting some raisins for the spoon bread when I heard her come in. Sorry to have abandoned you, Summer. But frankly, I thought staying in the pantry was a better idea.”
“That’s okay, Olivia. Olivia Green, this is Chief Cameron Jackson,” Summer said, making the introductions.
He nodded toward Olivia. “Ms. Green.”
“What just happened here?” Cameron said, his issue with Summer’s background forgotten as he stewed over the way she had been treated.
“You just saw the Wicked Witch of the West in action,” Olivia said, depositing the large canister of raisins on a counter. “She blows in here like that all the time. Never does a lick of work but is always acting like the place would cease to exist without her at the helm.”
“Olivia,” Summer said. “Be kind.”
“That woman doesn’t deserve any kindness. And frankly, I’m sick of it,” Olivia said. “I’ve already sent a letter to the board about what’s been going on here.”
“What’s been going on?” Cameron asked as he watched Olivia toss ingredients into a large mixing bowl.
“Summer has been keeping us up and running, that’s what’s going on. If anybody here deserved a salary for all the work they put into Manna, it would be Summer, not Ilsa.”
Summer rubbed her temples. “It’s not that bad, Cameron. Really.”
“No,” Olivia snapped. “It’s worse.”
“Thank you for coming to my defense,” she told Cameron. “You didn’t have to. I was already telling her about us being shorthanded here. I just don’t think she realizes that the day-to-day operation of this place needs attention just as much as fund-raising and community awareness.”
Cameron looked around. “Is it just the two of you or is someone else hiding in the pantry?”
“Summer is leaving,” Olivia said. “She’s already been here for six hours of a three-hour shift.”
“I’m not leaving you when there’s...”
“What can I do to help?” Cameron interjected.
The two women glanced at each other. “We could use another set of hands,” Olivia pointed out. “Especially since Madame Director clearly isn’t lending any tangible support.”
A few minutes later, Cameron’s hands were washed, an apron was tied at his waist and he was chopping vegetables. If he was going at it a bit more aggressively than either Summer or Olivia would have, neither woman said anything about it.
“Does she always interact with volunteers like that?” he asked.
“What you saw is what we get,” Olivia said.
Cameron looked to Summer, who reluctantly nodded.
“This is a ministry,” she said. “But there are internal, er, issues, that make it difficult to carry out our mission sometimes.”
“There’s just one issue,” Olivia piped up from where she worked. “And its name is Ilsa Keller.”
The three made fast work of completing the preparations for the next day’s meal service. By the time they finished, Cameron’s assessment of Summer had changed...again.
“Can I buy you two a cup of coffee?” he said.
“None for me,” Olivia answered. “I have work waiting for me at home. You two go on. I’ll wrap up the rest of this. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”
Summer paused, but Olivia made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go.”
Summer surveyed the kitchen. Everything apparently met with her satisfaction because she nodded and headed outside.
“I didn’t mean to go all caveman,” Cameron said.
“You didn’t. At least not that I saw.”
The edges of his mouth quirked up. “That’s because I kept it inside.”
“Those carrots and that celery might disagree.”
That earned a laugh. “I thought I was showing off my Iron Chef skills.”
“If that makes you feel better,” she retorted.
“All right,” he said. “I confess. I was letting off the steam that your director brought to a boiling point.”
“Twice now you’ve bailed me out at Manna. Thank you.”
Remembering his reason for seeking her out in the first place, Cameron felt a twinge of conscience. His ex-wife would not have been as gracious as Summer, either with Ilsa Keller or with him butting in.
“Cameron, I forgot to ask. What did you come to Manna for? I’m sure your original intent wasn’t to referee a fight or to chop vegetables.”
To Cameron, her attempt at self-deprecating humor fell a little flat. He’d seen her mouth tremble as she’d fought back the urge to cry after the undeserved dressing down by that woman.
Before he could answer, a horn tooted and they both turned toward the sound.
“Summer Darling! I thought that was you. I heard you were back in town. We still do doubles at the club Saturday mornings. You know you have an open invitation. We’d love to see you.”
“I’ll call you,” she called out to the man who tooted his horn again and waved.
Doubles at the club. Cameron didn’t know if they were talking about tennis, golf or something else. But whatever it was, he knew he didn’t have an open invitation or even a membership at the exclusive country club.
When she turned back to him, Summer looked troubled.
“Cameron, about tomorrow....”
“That’s what I came to see you about.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’ve been very kind. But I’m going to have to back out. I’m sorry.”
Her words couldn’t have been any more shocking. She’d dumped him before he could dump her!
But the snub had the opposite affect on him. Instead of being relieved to have escaped another potential situation like the one with his ex-wife, he suddenly had something to prove—to himself and to Summer.
* * *
“I got cold feet,” Summer told her sister. “One minute, I was anticipating a date with him and in the next, it was like, ‘I can’t do this.’”
Spring was finishing up her own volunteer shift at the free clinic run by the Common Ground ministries. Summer had left Cameron standing in front of Manna and gone straight to the clinic. Spring had always been her sounding
