it on.
“Make sure it’s seated forward, not on the back of your head.” He demonstrated with his own. “Then turn the knob at the back to tighten. It should be fitted, not loose.”
Despite her misgivings, she did as he instructed, because the kids’ safety was her top priority.
With his own headgear in place, he checked hers. “Good job.”
Next, he handed her the strappy looking thing he’d referred to as a harness.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Put it on so you can help the kids. Simply step into it like pair of pants.” He showed her how, and she followed suit. “Then cinch the straps.”
She watched him, then adjusted the belt around her hips.
“All right. Now we attach the lanyard by slipping the looped end of it through the anchor point on the front of the harness.” He pulled the hook end up while she copied him. “Then, we weight the harness.” He clipped his hook to the zip line and reached for hers.
Panic rippled through her. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you how to weight the harness.” He clipped her lanyard to the line. “The staff will hook you to the line, then you’ll pretend to sit to put some weight on the harness. That way you can make sure everything is snug.”
After an initial hesitation, she did as he said and easily adjusted all of the straps. “Looks like I’ll have no problem helping the kids.” She looked at him. “Now what?”
“That’s it.” His grin was suddenly mischievous. “See you on the other side.” With that, he pushed off the platform and went sailing through the trees, leaving her sputtering in his wake.
What did he think he was doing? Because if he thought she was going to join him, he was sorely mistaken.
Great. She looked around, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She eyed the clip attached to cable. All she had to do was figure out how to undo that, then she could climb down off the platform. Problem was, Daniel had attached the thing so quickly, she hadn’t seen how it was done.
Standing on her tiptoes, she eyed the clip above her head. “That’s nothing more than a carabiner.” Not very secure, if you asked her. When she tried to open it, though, it wouldn’t budge.
“Problem?” Daniel hollered from the opposite platform some fifty yards away.
“How do I release this?” She motioned toward the carabiner.
“You have to—” A breeze blew through the trees just then, rustling leaves and pine needles and making it impossible to hear what he was saying.
“...twist the release,” she heard him say when the wind subsided. Something easier said than done. She couldn’t get the thing to turn.
Now she was getting annoyed.
“You could always join me over here,” he shouted.
“Or you could come back and help me.”
If you’re not cut out for this type of work...
Daniel’s words played across her mind, tormenting her. He thought she was a wimp.
Okay, so maybe she was used to playing it safe. But it wasn’t totally her fault.
Her parents had sheltered her, especially after her cancer diagnosis. And while it had initially bothered Blythe, she’d eventually come around to their way of thinking, choosing to push herself academically. Setting goals and doing whatever it took to attain them. Still, they were safe.
This—she stared at the ground some forty feet beneath her, then the expanse of cable that stretched between her and Daniel—this was way out of her comfort zone.
But it might be fun.
Where had that come from?
She recalled that summer she went to camp. The way she’d pored over the camp’s brochure prior to going. There had been one thing she’d wanted to try more than anything. But her dream of zip-lining had never come true.
Again, she stared across the expanse. Imagined flying through the trees. Could she really do it?
Life’s an adventure, Daniel had said.
She swallowed hard. She was not a wimp. And camp was about the kids.
She eyed Daniel across the way. She’d show him.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed off the platform. Exhilaration and a strange sense of freedom overtook her in those moments. And she had a feeling she’d never be the same again.
Daniel had waited a long time for this day to arrive. Years of planning, prayers and dreams were about to come to fruition with the arrival of their first campers.
Except in his dreams, it was always warm and sunny. While today was cold and rainy.
Taking another sip of coffee, he watched raindrops pelt the windows of the chow hall. This was insane. The whole region was in the middle of a drought. The county hadn’t had any measurable rain all year. Barely any snow the past winter. Yet today it rains.
His heart sank. He could imagine the campers’ dismay as they slogged across the wet ground to their cabins.
God, I don’t understand it, but I know You’ve got a reason. And though he believed that with his whole heart, he still wished he knew what that reason was.
He turned as the front door opened. To his surprise, Blythe practically bounded inside, looking more relaxed than ever in her green Camp Sneffels rain poncho. She brushed off the hood, revealing a sassy ponytail in the place of the pristine bun she’d worn since the day she arrived. Her smile added a definite sparkle to her extraordinary eyes.
Shaking his head, he puffed out a chuckle. Whatever had transpired on that zip line yesterday had brought out a side of Blythe that seemed to surprise even her. By the time she’d joined him on the second platform, she’d been a different person—one fearless enough that she’d practically demanded they attempt the challenge course before heading back for dinner.
Spotting him now, she made her way across the stained-concrete floor. “When are the kids supposed to be here?”
“Between eleven and two.” Downing the last of his coffee, he peered over the rim of his cup to see her gaze narrowing.
“What’s wrong?” Her brow puckered. “I thought you’d be bouncing off the walls, eagerly anticipating their arrival.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Blame it on the rain.”
After a sharp glance toward the window, her eyes cut to him again. “What’s that got to do with anything? It’s barely more than a drizzle.”
“It’s enough to keep the kids from participating in all of these cool events waiting for them.”
Raindrops glistened off her poncho as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Daniel Stephens, I cannot believe you said that. Where’s your faith? It’s not like it’s going to rain all week. Matter of fact, I checked the weather app on my phone, and this should be out of here in a few hours.”
“I know. It’s just not the way things were supposed to go. I’ve been racking my brain, trying to come up with alternative ideas.”
“I thought that’s what this was for.” She swung her arms wide, sending a spray of droplets to the floor as she indicated the large open space where they stood. “Don’t you have some sort of backup plan?”
“Yes, however I don’t