realize this is an active program? We hike, swim, fish, sail…”
He nodded. “I do understand. And I know Ginny won’t be able to participate in every activity to the fullest. But if I’m there, I can help her get the most out of what y’all do and contribute as much as possible to the group.”
Valerie’s misgivings only increased. A leader should be responsible for all the girls. Chances were good that Rob would focus on his daughter and her needs, leaving Valerie to cope with the rest of the troop.
Without another leader besides herself, however, the troop wouldn’t exist at all. Given the dearth of volunteers, she had no choice.
“Well, Rob, you’ve got yourself a job. No pay, no benefits, lots of overtime.” She grinned at him and offered a handshake. “And lots of fun.”
“I’ll take it.” He extended his hand to take hers. The warmth of his skin left Valerie feeling breathless. Tingly, even. She pulled back as soon as she could manage without appearing to be rude.
To hide her burning face, she bent to the file box beside her chair and began pulling out papers. “You’ll need to complete these forms. GO! rules mandate that a male can only be an assistant—the troop leader must be female. Since no one else has volunteered, I’m the consolation prize. Are you okay with that?”
When she sneaked a look him, she found him frowning down at her. “You’re a good deal more than a consolation prize, Ms. Manion. Myself, I’d say I’m lucky to have you.”
The last thing she expected—or wanted—was a compliment. “Well…well, thanks. I hope we can work together to give the girls a great year in the outdoors.”
“I’m sure of it,” he said, just as a red-headed whirlwind blew into the room, chased by a poster-perfect Girls Outdoors! member in khaki shorts and a vest.
“Connor!” the girl yelled. “Connor, you little twerp, give it back right this minute.”
Her shrill command only made things worse. Connor, a seven-year-old with a freckled face and the devil in his grin, ran up and down the long room holding a bright pink book over his head, always just out of the reach of the girl on his heels.
“Mom,” Grace wailed. “Make him give it back.”
“Excuse me, Rob. My children always pick the worst times.” Valerie sighed and got to her feet. “Connor McNair Manion. Stop. Now.”
Connor stopped running, but twisted his body around the book so Grace, leaning over him, couldn’t get hold. Valerie went to stand in front of him with her hand held out. “I’ll take the book.”
“It’s mine.” Grace kept trying to reach over his shoulder for her property, which Valerie recognized as the diary she’d received from her father for her birthday back in June. He’d stopped by for fifteen minutes to deliver the gift, and they hadn’t heard from him since.
“Yes, I know it’s yours. Connor, give me the book.”
“When she gets off me.”
Once Grace had backed away, Connor looked over his shoulder, straightened up and handed over the diary.
“Thank you. Now, go sit in that chair and don’t move until I tell you to.”
Head down, shoulders slumped, her son went to the table and plopped into the chair she had used. As Valerie watched, Rob Warren grinned at him, but Connor stuck his lower lip out as far as it would go and turned his head away. Typical behavior these days from the little boy who had once been all smiles.
“Grace, have you met Ginny?” Valerie gave her daughter the recovered diary and then led her to the window. “Ginny’s going to join the troop. And her dad will be the assistant leader.”
Grace’s eyes went round. “A man leader?”
“A dad. It’ll be great—he was an Eagle Scout, so there’s lots he can teach us. Why don’t you two get to know each other while we finish up here?”
As Rob worked his way through the required forms, Valerie packed up her supplies, keeping one eye on Connor, sulking at the table, and one eye on Ginny and Grace, who didn’t say a word to each other. She supposed she couldn’t expect much else from a shy, disabled girl and the new kid in the class, though she’d have liked to see something go easily, for a change. Her recent move to North Carolina had been nothing but hassles so far.
Finally, Rob stacked his pages together and got to his feet. “Here you go—I think these tell more about me than even my parents know.” He grinned without malice or sarcasm, and Valerie couldn’t help smiling in response.
“Blame the lawyers,” she told him. “They make the rules. And break them when they want to.” Her own bitterness slipped out before she could stop it.
“That they do.” The look Rob gave her offered sympathy without intruding. His longish hair and slow, sweet drawl made her think of Ashley Wilkes in Gone With The Wind. She’d read the book in the sixth grade and built her dreams of romance on Margaret Mitchell’s foundation.
Then she’d grown up to discover that chivalry, like the antebellum South, was a thing of the past.
Rob was gazing at her with an eyebrow raised in question, and Valerie realized she’d dropped the conversational ball.
“Right. I’ll turn these papers in and we’ll get the troop going.” Flushing, she bent to the plastic box of supplies beside the table and started pulling out the books he would need. “Here’s the handbook, the activities book, the leader’s guide, the safety manual and the regulation notebook.”
“You want to hand me the IRS code while you’re at it?”
She looked up, knowing she would find that warm grin again. “You volunteered. And I’m not letting you back out now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of backing out, Ms. Manion. You’re stuck with me…with us.” He glanced at the girls, silent by the window. “And I’m sure everything will turn out just fine.”
For the first time, his smile was a little doubtful. As she stared up at him, Valerie had to wonder why Rob Warren worried about his daughter getting along in the troop. And how much trouble his worry predicted for her in the long run.
“Of course it will,” she found herself assuring him. “We’ll have a great year.” She bent to pick up the box. “Our first meeting is next Wednesday. We’ll have to get together to do some planning before then.”
“Let me take that,” Rob said, slipping his hands under the front corners of the container.
“I’ve got it.” Valerie backed up, looking over her shoulder for her daughter. “Grace, could you get the other box? And Connor, bring that bag, please.”
But Rob still hadn’t let go of the box she held. “I’ll get this one.”
“No, thanks. I can do it.”
“But you don’t have to.” He took a step forward.
“I want to.” She grinned at him. “Are we going to dance around the room with this between us? Or can I just carry it to my car?”
Shaking his head and frowning, he backed away with his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. “You are one headstrong woman, Valerie Manion. Your husband’s a patient man.”
“I’m divorced.” She said it quickly, flatly. “It’s just me and the kids.”
He gazed at her for a moment with a somber expression. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your problem.” She glanced around the room, double-checking for stray papers, then headed for the door.
Rob followed. “But I’m gonna be working with you. Should I be relieved or worried about this stubbornness of yours?”
“Both.