Rocky Mountain Miracle. Leona Karr

      All was quiet.

      Muttering to himself, Scott picked up a bucket from the corner of the porch, hurried down the steps to the house and strode toward the blazing bonfire. Making sure that all of the fires were out had been one of the responsibilities that his father had given him every summer. Sam had lectured them all about unattended campfires.

      When he reached the fire, he saw that a ring of rocks contained the blazing wood, but the wind was coming up and sparks were beginning to fly upward. There was always danger that some could be blown away from the open area and into the nearby trees and underbrush.

      He strode angrily past the campfire, and headed toward the creek to fill his bucket. A winding path led through a wooded area before opening up to a grassy bank along the mountain stream’s edge.

      As Scott came out of the drift of trees, he stopped, startled to see a figure dipping water from the swift-flowing stream into a bucket. Moonlight touched Allie’s blond hair like golden tinsel and as she stood up, Scott pulled back into the shadows.

      That halcyon summer they’d spent as much time together as they could. Sharing all their camp chores was one of the ways they could be together, and dousing the campfire had been one of them. Nightly they had walked down to the stream together to get water. Even now, he remembered the soft feel of her hand in his, and the way she’d looked up at him as they walked together to and from the stream. They hadn’t talked much. A soft laugh, a tender look and an amused smile were enough to convey an intimacy beyond words. That kind of closeness had been new to him that summer, and he’d never felt it with anyone else. Maybe some communion with another being belonged to the young and innocent.