Her Kind Of Hero. Janice Carter
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.
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.
Just then the front door of the lodge swung open. “Hey, Matt, you got here in good time for a...” Sandro faltered, taking in Dana as she climbed out of the car “...change.”
“Yeah, traffic was okay. Sandro, this is Dana Sothern. Dana, Sandro Garcia.”
The two nodded at one another. “Dana’s going to be helping out for a couple of weeks.”
“Helping out?” Sandro looked sharply at Dana, clearly taking in her designer boots and jeans. “Here?”
Matt caught the tone, and from the slight flush in her face, Dana did, too. Only days ago, he and Sandro had carefully gone over the staffing schedule for the camp’s dry-run weekends. That was before Dana’s call, so Matt hadn’t included her. “I’m going to give her a quick tour first. Maybe she can make up the beds in the cabins?”
Sandro shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you think.”
“Is Maria coming in today?”
“No. Her son’s sick so she may not make it tomorrow either. She’ll let us know later today.”
“Okay. By the way, Kristen is expecting us at about four o’clock to get ready for the board meeting.”
“Right. Well then, I’ll go rustle up the bedding stuff.” He nodded briefly at Dana and headed toward the two cabins on the far right of the lodge.
Matt looked at Dana. “Maria’s kind of an office manager. She does a lot of our administrative work part-time,” he explained. When she simply nodded, he said, “Guess we might as well start with the lodge, then.”
“Sure.”
Matt hadn’t expected enthusiasm, but mild interest would have been nice. He led the way inside, hoping the visual impact of what they called the Big Room might rouse something in her.
“As you can see, this entryway is really part of a hall that runs all along the front of the lodge. That side on the left leads to our offices and the staff washroom. To your right is the coat area.”
She looked at the rows of hooks and racks for boots and shoes without comment.
“The hall on that side continues to the staircase leading to the second story.”
“What’s up there?”
“Five bedrooms and two bathrooms. The staff who aren’t supervising in the kids’ cabins share a room, and I get my own, since staff shift around a bit but I’m always here.” He stopped, feeling a bit unsettled by her passive gaze.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Okay, and straight ahead is what we call the Big Room.” He turned around and walked