Jenna's Cowboy Hero (13 page)

“I thought we were stringing beads?” Adam leaned and whispered in her ear.

Jenna shrugged. “Me, too. Marcie, aren't we stringing beads?”

“I have choices.” Marcie pulled out macaroni from a box and started setting up paint. “They can make a cross necklace with beads, or paint macaroni and string it.”

“Paint macaroni?” Adam shook his head. “Sounds like fun.”

“It will be fun. Stop being a scrooge.”

Jenna slipped the apron over her head and then pulled it to tie behind her back. As she pulled the ends tight, she watched Adam trying to get his straight, fussing with the tie behind his back. Awkward didn't begin to describe it.

“Can I help?”

“Probably.” He turned so she could tie the apron.

When he turned around she laughed. He was a giant in a paper bib and a cowboy hat.

“Okay, this is funny, but here come the kids.” Marcie was in the middle of her little group of helpers, four of them in aprons. “Today they can either make a cross with beads—Julie will help with that—or they can paint the macaroni. We'll let the kids string the macaroni tomorrow. We'll have a station for painting red, green, white, black. Got it, everyone?”

“What if a kid wants blue?” Adam mumbled as Marcie stationed him in front of the red paint. A tub of paint, four plates, four brushes and wipes to clean their hands. “What teenager is going to want to do this?”

“You'd be surprised. Kids like simple things. Adults always believe that only complicated things can make a kid happy.” Jenna poured paint into the pan on the table in front of her. “Besides, there are kids as young as ten in this group.”

“Oh.” He looked around them, distracted. “You need to sit down.”

“I don't.” But she really did.

He was already moving away from her, toward chairs stacked in the chapel. He grabbed one off the pile and walked back with it, putting it behind her.

“There, does that work?”

She sat down, nodding. “It works. Thank you.”

“Okay, now, why can't the kids have blue?”

She laughed. “You really do have a one-track mind. Black for sin, red for the shed blood of Jesus, white for sins washed away, green for peace or love, I always get that one confused.”

“Got it. No blue.”

“No blue.” She reached up, letting her fingers slide through his for a moment, not wanting to think about how it felt to have this giant of a man caring about her, and caring about these kids.

Marcie slid past them, her glance on their intertwined fingers, and she looked away, because Marcie didn't gossip. Jenna loved that about the older woman.

“Mr. Mackenzie, the kids will be at your station first.” But there was an edge to her voice. A protective, mother-hen edge.

Adam moved, breaking the connection between their
hands. And Jenna didn't blame him. It had been a silly high school thing to do, reaching for his hand that way. She thought about her heart, broken one too many times, and the boys, because they thought he was a hero.

None of them needed to go through this, through moving forward, getting over a silly summer fling.

T
he group of kids lined up in front of the macaroni-painting station, and Adam thought it looked like a lot more than ten. But after counting, he realized it really was just ten.

“Can we eat this?” one boy asked, his smile crooked and his eyes full of humor. His T-shirt was too big and his jeans a little too short.

“No, this shouldn't be eaten. It isn't cooked. We're just painting it.” Adam handed the boy a brush.

“I was joking, man. Don't get so uptight.”

Uptight? Was he really? He shrugged a few times, thinking that might loosen him up. Nope, still uptight. The boy shook his head and laughed. “Dude, you gotta lighten up.”

“Young man, that is not a dude. That is Mr. Mackenzie and you need to learn some manners.” Marcie slipped in between them, a powerhouse of a woman with gray hair and glasses. She stared the boy down, and still managed to look loving. “While we're here, we won't say
dude
. Understood?”

“Yes, ma'am.” The boy lost his mirth, lost his swagger. Marcie could put a pro coach to shame.

“Hey, partner, it's okay.” Adam smiled because he'd almost said
dude
.

“Mr. Mackenzie, do you think we could shoot some hoops?” The boy nodded to the basketball court fifty feet away and the ball, still lying in the grass.

“We might manage to do that, if it fits into the schedule.”

“You'd play with us?” the boy continued.

“Sure I would.” Adam swallowed against the painful tightening in his throat. “What's your name?”

“Chuck.” The boy painted his macaroni. “This is cool. I like the red the best. I'm going to be a preacher someday.”

“That's great, Chuck.” Adam loosened up, and it was easy with a kid like that smiling at him. It wasn't about his autograph or football; it was about this camp. And the kid was the hero.

He wasn't a kid person, had never been the guy on the team that signed up for children's charity events. Now he wondered why.

“Come on, move on over to Jenna's station, kids. We need to get this moving along.” Marcie clapped, but her smile was big and Adam knew she loved the kids, every single one of them.

He watched as they painted and she walked behind them, talking to them, hugging them, sharing stories about herself and the days when she'd been young enough to paint macaroni necklaces. One boy asked her if he had to wear it. She told him that he didn't have to, but he could give it to someone, to a younger child and tell them what he'd learned. She hoped they would all go home and tell what they'd learned to younger children who couldn't attend.

“Why aren't there younger kids here?” Adam whispered to Jenna.

She stood and poured more paint into her container. “They don't want to get kids too young in here with the teens. I think this group ranges in ages from ten to fourteen. They have a senior high class they'd like to bring later.”

“Oh.” Adam handed a younger girl a few wipes to clean her messy hands. “Wipe them up good, so you don't ruin your clothes.”

She looked down at her knee-length shorts and T-shirt and then smiled up at him. “It's okay. I don't think I can hurt these.”

The hole in his heart grew. He'd never gone without, not once in his life. He wondered how many of these kids went without decent meals, or woke up cold in the winter. He knew that it happened, but facing it, seeing it for himself, was shifting the part of his life that had been all about him.

This had changed Billy. He had seen kids like these and wanted to do something about it. He had just gotten sidetracked along the way. Billy had had a good heart.

“More paint.” Jenna sat back down, but she nodded toward his paint. It was nearly empty and three children remained. A girl with a thin face and long brown hair moved up to the table. Her clothes were threadbare and her smile was weak. Her hands shook when she reached for the brush.

“Are you okay?” Adam lowered his voice, so it didn't boom and scare her to death.

She looked up, big gray eyes averted, not looking at him. She nodded but he didn't believe a kid could look like that, with a face that pale, and be okay. He glanced down at Jenna. She was already on her feet.

“Honey, can I do something for you?”

The child shook her head. The paintbrush was in her hand and she swiped red over her macaroni. She sniffled and wiped at her nose and eyes with her arm.

Where was Marcie? Adam looked behind him. She had just been there, but she mentioned cleaning supplies for when they finished. Jenna stood and started around the table.

“Let me help. Are you hungry?”

The girl nodded.

“Didn't you get lunch?” Jenna asked, her voice tender, gentle.

The girl shook her head. Chuck, at the end of the painting table, came back to them, his freckled little face a mask of seriousness. Adam really liked that kid.

“She didn't get any lunch 'cause that bully, Danny, took her sandwich and chips. She just got milk.”

“Well, now, that isn't going to work.” Adam knew his voice probably rattled the poles that held up the tent. The girl cowered against Jenna, her gray eyes wide.

“Calm down, Goliath.” Jenna's lips pursed and she scrunched her nose at him.

The girl giggled a little. “He does kind of look like Goliath.”

“Yeah, well, we can take him down with a single stone and a little faith, so we won't worry about him. He's just loud and doesn't know any better.”

“We need to get her some lunch and have a talk with Danny.” Adam kept his voice a little quieter, and he hoped a little less frightening.

“We'll do that. But how about if we let Pastor Todd or John talk to Danny.” Jenna winked at the girl and then smiled a silly smile at him. With her arm around the girl, she moved away from the tent. “We'll go see if we can get her something to eat.”

“Okay.” And leave him with the kids? He did have another helper or two, but they'd kept pretty quiet at their end of the table, casting curious glances his way, but not speaking.

“Can we still play basketball?” Chuck, not about to give up.

“Yeah, we can play.”

“Cool. I'm going to play basketball with Adam Mackenzie.”

Adam laughed, because he couldn't believe that was all it took for this kid. He glanced behind him, watching as Jenna walked across the lawn with the little girl. And he wondered who Danny was that he'd take food from another child.

 

Jenna watched the little girl Cara eat the sandwich and chips that they'd found with the leftovers in the fridge. The child barely chewed the food and then she licked her fingers, not caring that she was being watched. When she finished she wiped her hands and looked up.

“That was good.” Cara smiled again, the gesture transforming her pixie face. “Can I go play now?”

“You can. I think it's free time for an hour or so.” Jenna nearly fell over with the force of Cara's hug. And then the girl was out the door and running across the lawn.

Slower than earlier in the day, Jenna walked out the door and watched as Adam shot the basketball, making it into the basket and then catching it, tossing it to Chuck. The boy aimed, but the ball hit the rim of the net and bounced away. He ran after it and when he returned, Adam stood next to him, showing him how to throw, how to make the shot.

He was a hero. Her boys had seen that in him from the beginning. He knew how to stop, how to just give
what the kids needed. And he didn't even know that about himself. He didn't know that part of Adam Mackenzie that made people feel good.

Jenna sat down on the bench a short distance from the court. Timmy and David ran out of the back part of the kitchen where there were classrooms. They were carrying crosses made from sticks and yarn.

“You guys ready to go?”

“Do we have to?” Timmy hugged her tight and she leaned back, sitting hard on the bench that she'd vacated. He plopped down next to her. “We like the camp.”

“I know you do, but the camp is for older kids. You got to come today because I was working. And now we need to go home, clean house and feed the horses.”

“Couldn't Uncle Clint feed?” David sat down next to her, his curious gaze lingering on her face, because he was always the one who noticed. “We could watch a movie together.”

“No, Uncle Clint can't feed. He took a load of bulls to Tulsa today. We'll be fine together. Come on, guys, cheer up.”

“We'll get to come back?” Timmy asked as he stood and reached for her hand, thinking he was big enough to pull her to her feet. He did a pretty good job of it.

“Yeah, we'll come back.” She followed them across the lawn, past the trailer that Adam lived in, and past the row of cars the workers had parked next to it. Her truck was at the end of that line of cars.

Today it was a really long walk.

“Hey, where are you going?” Adam's voice, and she could hear his feet pounding the ground. She turned and he was running after them, his long legs in shorts, no jeans this time.

“I'm taking the boys home. They're exhausted.”
She was exhausted. “And I need to get things caught up at home.”

“Do you need help?”

“Of course I don't.” Her eyes stung with tears she wouldn't let fall, because maybe she was the only person that got it, that he was this kind. The boys ran on to the truck and she let them go.

Adam stood next to her. “Jenna, I can feed the horses. Let me change and I'll even drive you home. I can walk back.”

“Adam, really…”

“You can stop arguing.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I can stop arguing. But it isn't time for them to be fed.”

He smiled. “Okay, then I'll come over later?”

“We'll see. You know, I really can do this myself. I'm used to it. I'll go home, rest a little, and be back at it.”

A car door slammed. She glanced behind her, and Adam groaned a little. “My dad.”

“Really?” She watched the older gentleman as he walked toward them, his smile a little hesitant.

“Dad.” Adam held out a hand to his father, and Pastor Mackenzie took it, holding it tight for a minute.

“I came here to help you work. I'd like to see this camp that Billy couldn't stop talking about. You never know, our church might want to help out.”

“I'll give you a tour.” Adam looked trapped, and Jenna backed away, giving what she hoped was a clear signal that she didn't need him and he should spend time with his dad.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” Jenna touched Adam's arm briefly. “Mr. Mackenzie, it was good meeting you.”

Adam rubbed his forehead. “I'm sorry. Jenna Cameron, this is my dad, Jerry Mackenzie.”

“Good to meet you, Jenna.”

“The boys.” Jenna nodded in the direction of the truck. “I need to go before they start it and drive themselves home.”

“I'll talk to you later.” Adam winked. “Not tomorrow.”

 

“Well, she seems like a nice girl.” Adam's dad stood next to him, watching the truck pull down the drive.

“She's a mom, not a girl.” Adam let out a deep breath and relaxed. “I didn't expect to see you here today.”

“I know you didn't, but I told your mother that I'd like to see what's kept you here.”

Adam bristled a little under that comment. “You didn't expect me to stay?”

“Did you expect to stay?”

Adam stopped walking. He stared out over the camp, quiet in the late-afternoon heat. The kids were in the chapel behind the door, doing skits. Everything was neat and clean. It looked like a camp—not a summer camp like the ones attended by the children of his friends, with pools, tennis and gymnasiums, but a good camp where kids could have fun for a week.

And he hadn't planned to stay. He had wanted to sell it as soon as possible. Until just a few days ago he had wanted Jess Lockhart to get his way and shut it down.

A couple of weeks and his life had changed.

“No, Dad, you're right. I hadn't planned on staying. At least not staying for this reason, to get it up and running.”

“Maybe this is your fire?”

Adam shook his head, not getting it. “My fire.”

“You wanted to be a fireman. Remember, even when you were little, you begged me to take you to town so you could ride on the fire truck.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He had forgotten, but now it came back to him, that moment on the front seat of that truck, flipping switches that sounded sirens. He had always wanted to be a fireman.

But this wasn't his fire. Unless a fire was just an emergency that needed to be put out. He could admit that the place meant something to him, something more than he had planned. But it would feel good to turn it over to Pastor Todd, knowing it would continue.