He sat down next to her, his hands at the edge of the swing, and regarded her closely. Alice with the fire of defiance in her eyes was always a fierce trial on his patience and senses. But Alice’s eyes sparkling with happiness as she relished a long overdue birthday cake left him lung-locked and mute for a moment.
Her brow crinkled. “Do you want some?” she asked, waving in the direction of the cake. She’d misunderstood his intent expression as he’d witnessed her glowing happiness. She started to get up, as if to get him some cake.
He caught her hand, halting her and shaking his head. Instead, he kissed her softly, the sweetness lingering on her lips more than satisfying him. After a moment, he lifted his head and leaned back in the swing, his arm around her.
“Go ahead,” he instructed gruffly. “Eat your cake.”
He noticed her satisfied smile as she snuggled up next to him and resumed eating. He tightened his arm around her and stared out over the railing. It would be a clear day. The sun had risen, but just recently. It cast the eastern woods in a pale gold light. Alice lingered over her last bite, carefully scraping up all the icing off the plate. He glanced at her amusedly as she sucked every last remnant off her fork.
He held out his hand with a droll expression. Laughter filled her eyes as she handed her plate to him. He returned a moment later, a hefty fresh slice of cake on it.
“It’s really good,” she insisted by way of explanation for her early morning hunger for birthday cake.
“The breakfast of champions.”
She laughed and offered him a bite, which he took. “I hope so. The bonfire is tomorrow and they’ll be announcing the team totals. I could use any edge I could get. I can’t believe camp is over this Friday, and the kids leave on Saturday.”
“Red Team was on top last week. I’ve heard it’s still in the running this week.”
Alice nodded, forking more cake in her mouth. “We’ve got a good chance, but Thad’s team is always a threat, and Dave Epstein’s Gold Team and Brooke Seifert’s Silver have had good weeks. Everyone is really coming together and forming solid team identities.”
He smiled in memory of his days as both a camper and then a counselor at Camp Durand. “You might have to do something a little out of the box to get the managers’ attention. Team building is crucial, but at this point, they’ll be looking for more. Some dazzle.”
“Dazzle?”
He shrugged. “Salesmanship is a huge part of being a successful manager. You know that. That’s how it’d be in the business world if you were competing for a contract, talking retailers into higher product numbers or negotiating for product placement, convincing a bank Durand has a high trust value for expansion loans . . . whatever. It’s not enough to just show them numbers, you’ve got to be different from everyone else. You’ve got to stand out.”
She looked thoughtful and grim as she took another bite of cake. “Don’t worry about me. Brooke Seifert has been telling me from the start I was different.”
“You are,” he assured her, skimming his fingertips over her shoulder. She glanced at him uncertainly. “I’ve been telling you from the beginning, that’s a good thing.”
She ducked her head. She stuck her fork into the cake with great focus. “Thank you again for yesterday,” she said quietly.
He stroked her shoulder. “It was my pleasure. It was a special day for me, too.”
He saw color spread on the cheek nearest to him. She continued to study her cake like she’d discovered it held the secrets of the universe.
“You probably have had it happen a lot,” she murmured.
“What?” he asked, sensing her disquietude. He continued to stroke her silky skin, silently reassuring her.
“Have women tell you they love you.”
“You were the first.”
Her fork plinked on the china plate. She turned fully to face him, clearly startled.
“What?”
“You were the first person to ever tell me you loved me. When you were four years old. Of course, you told Angelfire you loved her constantly, and the Raggedy Ann doll you’d fed strawberry preserves one day and had a permanent red beard and mustache as a result, and the mangy stray cat that hung around the stables . . . so I’m not sure how much your proclamation of love meant,” he said, shrugging. He met her gaze, his amusement fading. “But you were the first.”
For several seconds, she just stared at him, her dark blue eyes glistening.
“It meant something,” she finally said feelingly.
He nodded. He wasn’t quite sure if she’d understood how much hearing those words for the first time when he was an angry, lonely boy of fourteen years had meant to him, or if she was saying her innocent declaration of love had been more than just the passing childish sentiment of a little girl. It didn’t matter.
The light shining in her eyes at that moment was all that did.
*