were the ones who would suffer. And he would do anything to prevent that from happening.
Staring at the scruffy camp director, Blythe found herself questioning her boss’s judgment. Jack Hendershot had gushed about Daniel Stephens for months, claiming, “He may be young, but he knows what he’s doing.”
Blythe puffed out a laugh. Not from where she stood, he didn’t.
Because while Camp Sneffels appeared to be a beautiful setting, its director looked like a bum. Throw in the fact that he couldn’t even remember her arrival date, something that should have been of utmost importance to someone seeking funding, and she found him sorely lacking. If he ran the camp with that same lackadaisical attitude, it was the children who would be let down, the same way she’d been, and there was no way she’d stand for that—even if it meant pulling the camp’s funding.
“Let me clean this paintbrush, and I’ll give you a tour.” Daniel Stephens walked away, the thwap, thwap of his flip-flops echoing in his wake.
Drawing in a cleansing breath of mountain air, she listened to the breeze whisper through the towering pine trees as she inspected her surroundings. Several yards to her left, a smallish wooden building was labeled Camp Office, while straight ahead on the opposite side of an expansive grassy area stood a large, somewhat charming structure with a rustic stone chimney. To its right was a red-and-white metal building that resembled a barn. And surrounding it all, mountain peaks with just the slightest hint of snow seemed to stand guard. Picturesque indeed.
Turning, she opened her car door and retrieved her phone to take some pictures. But one look at the screen revealed two text messages from her boss.
She read the first one.
Are you there yet?
Jack’s excitement reminded her of a little kid.
What do you think about Daniel? He’s great, isn’t he?
She shook her head. Great was not a word she’d even come close to using to describe Mr. Stephens.
Her phone rang then, her sister’s name appearing on the screen.
“Hey, Jenna. What’s up?”
“Just checking to make sure you made it safely to the camp.” Though Jenna was ten years older than Blythe and married with two kids, they were best friends. Her sister was the one she counted on to be there for her, to help her talk through her problems and listen to her vent. Blythe could be real with Jenna, something she’d never been able to do with their mother.
“About five minutes ago.”
“And...?”
Leaning against her vehicle, she peered down the wooded trail to her left. “The camp itself appears to be all right. Beautiful setting, but the director leaves a lot to be desired. Would you believe the guy wasn’t even expecting me?”
“Why not?”
“He thought I was coming tomorrow. And to make matters worse, he looks like something the cat dragged in.”
“Now Blythe, you know you shouldn’t judge someone by their outward appearance. It’s the heart that matters.”
She cupped her free hand around the microphone. “Jenna, not only is he dressed like a bum, he has a man bun!” she whispered emphatically.
Her sister chuckled. “He can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll send you a picture.” Movement out of the corner of her eye captured her attention. “Here he comes. I gotta go.” She ended the call and secretly snapped a photo of him walking toward her, hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy shorts while he looked the other way. A couple of screen taps and the image was on its way to Jenna.
“I apologize for the mix-up.” He stopped in front of her, appearing rather sheepish. “Can I get you anything? Some water maybe?”
She slipped her phone into her back pocket. “No, thank you.”
“Do you need to freshen up?”
Peering up at him, she instinctively smoothed a hand over her hair. Did she look like she needed freshening? Not that she should care.
She stiffened her spine. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“All right then. Since you’re going to be here for a while, why don’t I just give you a quick overview of the place for now? Then tomorrow we can cover things more in-depth.”
“That sounds reasonable.” After that five-hour drive, she could stand some downtime. Maybe do a little yoga to stretch her muscles.
He pointed toward the large structure opposite them. “That’s the chow hall and multipurpose building over there. It’s pretty much the hub of the camp. Aside from meals, it’s a general gathering place for events.”
“What types of events?” She wanted specifics, not empty promises.
“Skits, sing-alongs, a dance party...whatever we can think of. We’ll also use it for games or movies in the event that it rains.” He shifted from one flip-flopped foot to the other. “I’d take you inside, but the volunteers are doing some training with our medical staff today.
“If you’ll follow me this way.” He turned and started down the dirt-covered circle drive, then suddenly stopped. “Are you going to be okay walking in those?” He pointed to her shoes.
Noting his own footwear, she said, “I could ask you the same thing.”
His gaze lowered. “Okay then.” He moved in the direction of the red building with white trim. “This is the camp medical facility, but we refer to it simply as The Barn.” He continued onto the covered, rocking-chair-lined cement porch. “No point in throwing it in the kids’ faces that all of them have cancer, even if the building is state-of-the-art and ready to meet any need that could potentially arise, be it urgent or routine.”
Having fought her own battle as a teen, Blythe could certainly appreciate that. She was all too familiar with cancer and the stigma of being sick.
“What about the staff?”
“Some of the best in the region.” He escorted her inside where she was greeted by brightly colored walls and plenty of rustic wood doors and trim. After giving her a thorough tour of the facility, they moved on to the cabins where he explained that everything in the camp was accessible, including bathrooms.
Returning to where they’d started, Blythe found herself satisfied with the facilities, yet there was still one thing she needed to know. “What sorts of activities do you have for the kids? After all, you did promise them adventure.” Just like the camp she’d attended after her lymphoma diagnosis. Yet, instead of fun and games, she and the other campers had spent most of the week either in their cabins or doing nothing more than arts and crafts. Needless to say, she was not about to allow the kids coming to Camp Sneffels to face the same disappointment.
Beneath his bedraggled beard, the corners of Daniel
