Janice Carter - Her Kind Of Hero

There was a softening in his eyes as he glanced quickly her way. “The idea for the camp came up about four years ago. We were having a meeting at KidsFirst and one of our counselors mentioned she’d been talking to a kid about a nature hike she’d recently made. This boy asked if she’d been scared going through the woods. His only concept of woods or forests—nature itself—was from horror movies and TV shows. Not only had he never seen a forest, he’d never even visited the big parks right here in Chicago. We liked the idea of taking the kids into the country on day trips and had been talking about it for some time. So we brainstormed and searched for possible locations. One of the team learned about an old campsite near Maple Lake. We found out the property was for lease, went to look at it and then began fund-raising.”

“And this happened four years ago?”

“Yeah. It took us a year to raise the money, then two more to negotiate the deal, get permits, get the buildings up to par and so on. Of course, we relied on grants and donations for all that. We finally opened last year but only used it as a day camp, starting at three days a week and working up to five. By the end of the summer, the kids were begging for sleepovers.”

His smile, along with the warmth in his voice, said it all. Dana couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt a similar enthusiasm. Maybe when Jason had surprised her with the trip to Paris—the one she’d canceled at the last minute because of a problem at work.

“Who owns the property?”

“The town of Willow Springs. An eccentric couple ran the place for years and when they died, their estate put the camp up for sale. The buildings themselves weren’t worth much but the land is adjacent to the Maple Lake Forest Preserve, owned by Cook County. The town bought the camp, intending to turn it back into parkland, but that plan got stalled. They decided to lease it to us in the meantime.”

“This isn’t a permanent situation, then.”

He turned briefly to look at her and sighed, “No, and that’s the problem. Our lease runs out at the end of June and we’re in the middle of putting together a presentation for an extension of five years.”

“Couldn’t you fund-raise to buy the property outright?”

“Ha! If only life were that simple.”

The exasperation in his voice prompted Dana to reconsider what she’d been about to say—that it seemed like a simple solution to her. Everything in life boiled down to money as far as she knew. Having it or wanting it. After a moment she said, “Sometimes life can be simple. Getting what you want is all in the approach.”

His answer was a loud exhale. As if she didn’t have a clue. But Dana knew otherwise. She’d learned the hard way how to camouflage emotion to get what she needed. She’d honed that skill over twenty years, starting from the day Matt Rodriguez put his own life at risk for her.

The hands gripping the steering wheel were, for all those years, what she remembered most about him. Along with his dark, almost black, eyes. When he’d hoisted her onto the platform and climbed up after her, his eyes had signaled a compassion that she hadn’t felt from another human being in years. Not since her mom died.

Her gaze followed up from those hands to his forearms and the tattoos on his olive-toned skin. The right one, nearest to her, was a dragon and the left seemed to be a tree. Dana sighed. At least there was no large MOM inscribed in a heart. She wondered when and why he’d gotten them but hesitated to ask.

He was wearing a plain black T-shirt today, snug fitting in a pleasing way. His profile was strong, his jaw set with determination. He was definitely an attractive man and Dana wondered if he was attached to anyone. Maybe Kristen, the woman at the center who’d seemed so protective of him. For some reason, that bothered her. Not that she had any claim on Matt Rodriguez.

Deciding to set her curiosity to rest, she asked, “So, what have you been doing the past twenty years?”

The car swerved as he abruptly looked her way. She smiled at the surprise in his face.

“Um, well...” He turned his attention back to the road ahead but finally finished his sentence. “I spent eight years in the army after high school.”

Army. That explained some things. “Afghanistan?”

“Iraq. Two tours then I was discharged. Went to college and got a youth worker diploma. I worked in construction for a while before and after that.”

“Not so many jobs in your field?”

“Hard to get a foot in the door. If you’re not with the city, you have to line up for jobs with nonprofits. I finally got my break with a city community center. Worked my way up to running the place and realized the city needed something more just for kids in the South Side. I had a lot of contacts by then and had figured out the system enough to start lobbying for KidsFirst.”

“It’s your baby.”

He looked over at her. “For sure.”

Dana wished she could be as emphatic describing her own job.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

He grinned. “Of course, you. What’ve you been doing these past twenty years?”

She hardly knew where to start. Because looking back was painful? Or because all those years now seemed so repetitive? An endless rollover of sameness, day after day.

“Well, I’m a lawyer.”

“No kidding!”

If only she could be as enthused about it.

“So how did your life go,” he suddenly asked, “afterward?”

Dana doubted her own story was as satisfying as his. She recalled his comment when she’d gone to the drop-in, that she’d made a success of her life. It depended on how you defined success. She was gazing out the window, searching for a way out of answering, when she spotted a highway sign that said Welcome to Willow Springs.

“I guess we’re almost there,” she said.

CHAPTER FOUR

TURNING OFF THE highway onto the gravel road leading to the camp, Matt was all too aware of Dana’s silence. He stared at the buildings ahead, seeing for the first time how run-down they were, except for the new sleeping cabin. He could imagine what she was thinking as they surveyed the grassy expanse leading up to the lodge and the trees scattered around it that were more of an afterthought than a real woods.

“Where’s the lake?” she asked.

“It’s behind that hill the main lodge sits on.” It was more of a knoll than a hill though. Funny how he was suddenly noticing these things. “It’s about a ten-minute walk from here. I can see part of it from my office in the lodge.”

She looked where he pointed but didn’t say anything. If she’d ever been to a camp, it likely hadn’t looked like Camp Hope. But he was curious. “Did you go to camp when you were a kid?”

Her gaze shifted back to him. “When I was twelve. For six miserable weeks.” She gave a half smile.

“I guess it was a bit more upscale than this.”

“The buildings were different—logs and stones—but it was in the middle of the wilderness. At least, it might as well have been.” She turned to the window, lost in thought for a moment. “My father sent me because he wanted to toughen me up.”

“Did you?”

She snorted. “Quite the opposite.”

He wished there were time to explore that comment but guessed from the way she stared out her window that the talk was finished. He pulled up next to Sandro’s car in the small graveled area adjacent to the lodge. No sign of Maria’s car, Matt noted. Maybe she was coming in later.

“Okay,” Matt said. “Shall we have a quick tour before I put you to work?” He was teasing, but she didn’t pick up on it, unsnapping her seat belt and reaching down for her backpack as he got out of the car. It was going to be a long day, he thought.