Sydell Voeller Special Edition Page 2

  She bit her lip, digging a fingernail into her palm. Hopefully he hadn't sensed her real reason for wanting to go. He'd accuse her of being overly-protective, hovering over Kim too much—just like Dorothy had. But she couldn't help it. Kim needed her. They needed each other. "I. . .I don't think that will be necessary, Dr. Dellinger. I haven't taken vacation time in nearly two years. I'm sure there won't be any problem."

  "Fine then. So you'll accept the scholarship committee's offer? Shall I tell them to go ahead?"

  "Yes. Kimberly and I'll be there at the nine-thirty registration on Monday morning.

  "Excellent. I assure you, Logan, you won't regret doing this. You won't regret it for a moment."

  * * *

  "All checked in?"

  Logan lifted one hand from the back of Kim's wheelchair and looked up. Dr. Dellinger hadn't wasted a minute finding them. Her pulse quickened as she caught sight of the mottled sunlight playing against his dark hair, glinting auburn-gold highlights. He wore a white tank top and khaki shorts that accentuated his taut, well-developed biceps and deep bronze suntan.

  "Yes—finally," she answered him. "Kim is now an official camper and Maggie Lodin and I'll be the two nurses who're volunteering this session." But what an ordeal getting here, she silently added. They'd taken several wrong turns, twisting their way over dusty, poorly marked back roads until they'd at last found their way. The chalky taste of the dust still clung to the base of her throat.

  "Kim's going to be assigned to the Cabin 3-B," she went on as she glanced toward a nearby fire-ring. Already Jake Peterson, a recreational therapist from the hospital, was demonstrating to a group of campers the techniques of building a safe campfire. A few lingering parents were saying their last goodbyes while counselors and other staff members hurried about with clipboards in hand.

  Dr. Dellinger squatted down to meet Kimberly's level. "So, you're all set, huh, Kim? That's super. Who's your counselor?"

  Kimberly lowered her gaze, remaining silent as she fidgeted with a corner of her registration card.

  "Come on, Kim," he urged gently. "I thought you were excited about coming to camp."

  "I told you she has her ups and downs," Logan was quick to remind him. "You can't blame her for being a bit moody right now. She's probably tired. It's been a long drive getting here."

  "Dr. Zack, my counselor's name is Betty Jo. Betty Jo Jorgensen," Kim piped up before Logan could say more. Kim met his gaze, but her expression remained closed.

  "Ah, you are one lucky young lady," Dr. Dellinger answered. "Miss Jorgensen is one of our most dedicated staffers."

  Logan nodded in agreement as she pushed back her amazement that Kim had so readily responded. "That's right, Kim. I'm sure you and Betty Jo will get along just fine." The attractive middle-aged occupational therapist who also worked at Children’s had enough skill and patience to handle a dozen cabins if need be. Though Logan had never had the opportunity to know Betty Jo well, she'd often chatted with her over lunch in the employees' cafeteria.

  "Would you like me to show you to Kim's cabin?" he asked, turning his attention back to Logan.

  "No thanks. I'm sure Kim and I can manage by ourselves." It was true she might be an inexperienced camper, but she determined to familiarize herself with the lay of the land as quickly—and as independently—as possible.

  "All right." His blue eyes flashed with. . .what? Amusement? Challenge? "But you're in no hurry, are you? Check-in time isn't for an hour yet. Let's talk for a minute or two. Tell me what you think of this place. Does it meet your expectations?"

  "Well, it is beautiful here," Logan conceded. "You were right when you promised us that." Her gaze swept the wooded hillside that loomed before them. Camp Rippling Waters, spanning nearly one hundred acres near the foothills of Mount Merimore, was thickly forested with Douglas firs, alders and an occasional maple. A wide, shallow creek twisted through the middle of the campgrounds like a shiny silvery ribbon, its white-tipped waters rushing southward while small mossy islands laden with yellow and blue wildflowers poked through. Overhead, a cool late summer breeze sighed through the treetops. What a relief from the heat of the city, she decided.

  "And there's nothing better than the smell of a campfire," Dr. Dellinger added, inhaling deeply. "I look forward to this all year." He regarded her thoughtfully. "Ever camped before? Packed in on horseback and slept out under the stars?"

  "No," she admitted. "Never." Clearly she and Dr. Dellinger were two very different people. Not only had she never ventured out with a backpack and bedroll, but the thought of riding a horse again frightened her. Years ago when she'd been a kid about Kim's age, she'd been thrown from her cousin's horse while visiting her ranch.

  For a split second, Logan considered telling him all about it, but decided not to. Recounting past events was one thing. But she wasn't prepared to share her innermost fears with him.

  "Mommy used to tell me about my daddy going to camp every summer," Kimberly said in a somber voice.

  "Air Force reserves," Logan quickly supplied. "Kim doesn't understand the difference."

  "So you never even car camped?" Dr. Dellinger asked.

  "No. After Dad died and Mom took over the travel agency, Kim and I spent most of our vacations with her in big cities, some in the U.S., some abroad. She liked to take advantage of the job perks, not only for her own enjoyment but so she could give her clients first hand info about where they were traveling. And of course, Kim and I traveled with her every chance possible."

  He shook his head, his eyes glinting teasingly. "What? No skinny dipping at midnight in some secluded creek? No cooking out in the wide open spaces over an open fire? You and Kimberly have definitely missed out on some of the best things in life."

  "May I remind you," Logan said between gritted teeth, "that getting back to nature isn't everyone's idea of heaven on earth."

  "Oh, Sissie!" Kim jumped in, rising to his defense. "Be nice to Dr. Dellinger. Don't talk to him that way."

  "Yeah. Way to go, Kimberly." Logan could tell by his widening grin that her mild rebuke hadn't fazed him in the least. "Tell your sis to mind her manners. Besides, I think she needs to lighten up a little, don't you?"

  "Uh-huh." A ghost of a smile played on Kim's lips as she looked back at Logan. "And I also think we should let Dr. Zack go with us to my cabin."

  "Oh. . .all right." Obviously Kim had already sided with him. But it was nice to see the change in her, even if it lasted only a short while—as it undoubtedly would. Besides, what harm was there? Judging from the map of the campgrounds Logan received at the registration table, the cabins weren't far away—at least their walk would be short.

  Pushing off the wheelchair, she started down a wide cemented walkway next to a rustic lodge-like building where the director's quarters and the infirmary were located. Dr. Dellinger fell into step next to her. Off to the side of the walkway were two boys with crutches, about twelve or thirteen, she guessed, who stood talking. Beyond stretched an open meadow where children in wheelchairs sat in a large circle tossing a red and white ball to one another.

  "That looks like fun," Kimberly blurted.

  Dr. Dellinger darted her a hopeful look. "Think you might like to join in?"

  Kim narrowed her eyes, studying the scene with quiet appraisal. "I. . .I don't know. I just said it looks like fun. That doesn't mean I want to play too."

  "It might be a good way to learn the kids' names," Logan prompted gently. "You'll make lots of new friends here at camp, you know."

  "That's right," Dr. Dellinger agreed. "Camp Rippling Waters accepts children from as far away as southern California and even Alaska. Playing ice-breaker games like that is top priority here—especially the first day or so."

  "I. . .I'll think about it." Kim hesitated. "But first I want to go to my cabin."

  Then that's exactly what we'll do," he replied amicably. "There'll be plenty of time later to take part in the activities."

  Logan rounded the wheelchair past a br
anch that had fallen on the pathway, all too aware of his steady gaze fixed on her, the sparkle in those fascinating sea-blue eyes. Unexpectedly her shoe caught and she lunged forward.

  Dr. Dellinger reached out with both arms to break her fall, then clasped her shoulders tightly.

  "Oh! My!" she exclaimed. "My heel must've gotten hung up on that branch." Her face flushed with embarrassment. Or was that unbidden warmth a tell-tale sign of how the sensation of those strong, virile arms wrapped around her had caught her completely unaware? Instinctively she pulled away.

  "Sissie, are you all right?"

  "Of course, I'm all right!"

  Dr. Dellinger dropped his gaze, then burst into laughter. "I don’t believe it! You're wearing high heels. Spiked high heels at that! It's a wonder you didn't break your neck."

  Kim giggled, cupping a hand over her mouth.

  "Dr. Dellinger, may I remind you, I'm not officially on duty yet?" Logan replied indignantly, propping her hands on her hips. "I always wear high heels when I'm not working."

  "Well, I certainly hope you remembered to pack a pair of hiking boots—at least some sensible walking shoes with good cushioning and arch support." The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Maybe during these next four weeks we can make a seasoned camper out of you yet."

  "I'm sure that won't be necessary. I'm perfectly capable of managing my own wardrobe, thank you—even if it's something as supposedly complicated as deciding what sort of shoes I should be wearing. And most of all, I don't need you to keep me from falling." With renewed determination, she pushed off again, silently vowing to watch her step.

  As he again matched her stride, she could hear the laughter in his voice. "Weren't we just talking about the kids cultivating good socialization skills? That is, before I had to nearly scoop you off your feet?"

  "Yes, but I don't have to see what that has to do with me catching my heel."

  "I do." He paused as if considering. "Let's just pass off this little fiasco as our own opportunity to get to know each other better." Clearly he wasn't about to let the matter drop.

  "No, let's not. May I remind you, our first and foremost reason for being here is the children. There'll be no time for anything else." Why was this silly school girl confrontation flustering her so? She felt like a thirteen-year-old in the first throes of puppy love. Next he'd be talking about the two of them playing ice breaker games. . .and goodness only knew where that could lead. She wouldn't let him get to her. No, she simply would not.

  "Of course. The kids. . ." He flashed her another dauntless smile, then tweaked Kimberly's shoulder. "Hey, Kim, look what's coming up ahead!" Then to Logan, "Stop for a minute—but be careful you don't trip again. Let your sister get a good look."

  Silent, Logan paused to follow his gaze. At the end of the trail was a footbridge arching over the creek and on the opposite side lay a dusty corral next to an L-shaped stable made of weathered gray shakes.

  "Neat-o!" Kimberly exclaimed, her face wreathed in a smile. "Look at all those horses!"

  "The black one at the watering trough is named Midnight," Dr. Dellinger told her, pausing to point out a sleek Arabian. "She's the most gentle of the entire lot, though they're all great trail horses. How would you like to try Midnight out sometime? Go for a nice long ride?"

  "Oh, I'd love—"

  "Wait!" Logan interrupted. "Now just you two wait one minute." She gripped the handles of the wheelchair till her knuckles whitened. "There's no way I'm going to put Kim's safety on the line like that. If you think—"

  "Dr. Zack! Logan!" The sound of a camper's alarmed cry sliced through Logan's next words. She looked up suddenly. Renee! Renee Haverton—the twelve-year-old girl on the rehab ward who was recovering from extensive third degree burns.

  "What is it, Renee?" His voice registered alarm.

  "Come quick! Hurry! Jodie Shields has been stung by hornets! She's back in the infirmary. And says she's allergic!"

  Chapter Two

  "Renee, stay here with Kimberly," Dr. Dellinger exclaimed. "Better yet, show her to Cabin 3-B."

  "Cool!" Renee enthused. "That's my cabin, too!"

  "And if you have to stop on the bridge," Logan added in a rush, "don't forget to put on the brakes!"

  "Hurry, Logan! Kimberly'll be fine!" Already Dr. Dellinger had started back toward the infirmary. Logan's thoughts pulled in two directions—she hated to desert her sister before camp had barely begun, but those hornet stings could turn into a serious emergency. "I'll be there in a sec!" she called after him, then turned quickly again to her sister, "Sorry, pumpkin. I'll meet you at your cabin as soon as I can."

  "Promise?" Kim jutted out he lower lip, scowling.

  "Of course. Now you and Renee go on," she answered with more conviction then she felt. "Get acquainted with your counselor."

  Logan's spiked heels tapped loudly as she hurried back down the trail. Despite Dr. Dellinger's limp—she could barely notice it even now while he was running—he'd managed to advance several yards ahead of her. "Did Jodie bring a bee sting kit to camp?" she puffed after she'd finally caught up with him.

  "I don't believe so, but there should be a vial of Epinephrine in the medicine cupboard. Benadryl, too."

  Inside the infirmary, a handful of people were huddled around the near-hysterical girl, trying to calm her. Maggie Lodin looked up suddenly and told Dr. Dellinger, "I followed the standing orders. I gave her the Epinephrine. The swelling's under control, but she says she's beginning to feel light headed."

  Concern shadowed his handsome face. "How recent was the injection?"

  "About three minutes ago."

  "Good. We can repeat the dose in twenty minutes or so p.r.n."

  "All right."

  He bent down to examine the blond haired girl whose face was streaked with tears as she sat hunched over on a narrow cot. "Dr. Zack. . .my leg. . .it hurts so bad," she gasped between rapid breaths. "And my throat feels tight."

  "Easy now, Jody," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Just breath slowly. Take some big, deep breaths. That's it. Much better. Just try to relax. See? It's improving already." He looked up and murmured, "We're lucky this time. I think this is more a case of hyperventilation than impending anaphylaxis, but I'll keep this tourniquet close at hand just in case."

  As Logan watched his every moment, she was struck by how he'd already begun to calm the frightened child. Yes, he certainly had a way about him. No wonder Kimberly had taken to him so. Of course, Logan didn't have the faintest notion whether he wanted to marry and have children. Yet he was so different from Matthew, who could never relate to children and had made it clear that raising "little ankle biters"—as he put it—had no place in his life.

  Dr. Dellinger turned to Maggie and asked, "Did you notice any stingers?"

  "No, but it appears she's been stung in about a dozen places—mostly all on her lower legs." Maggie's smile lingered as her gaze met his.

  "I'll get some ice," Logan said, pushing back a twinge of annoyance as she crossed the room to the refrigerator. "This is where it's kept, I hope?"

  "Yes," Maggie answered. "There are plenty of cold packs in the freezer compartment ready to go." She paused, hesitating. "Logan, do you mind taking over here? I was right in the middle of helping Robbie Jorgensen in Cabin 2-A with a nebulizer treatment for an asthma attack. I had to have one of the older campers handle it, but I really should get back to both of them."

  "Sure. No problem." An unsettled feeling stole over Logan. Robbie Jorgensen wasn't the only camper who needed a responsible adult to get back to him. So did Kimberly. Logan should be hurrying back to her this very moment. How was Kim managing? Were she and Renee getting to know each other all right? Had they found their way to the cabin without any mishaps?

  As Logan jerked open the freezer door, a blast of frigid air greeted her. She could hear Dr. Dellinger talking quietly to Jody while he examined her more closely. Her legs appeared as blotchy and swollen from the hornet stings as
her face was from crying.

  "Yep. Maggie's right," he announced. "There don't appear to be any stingers. Now how's your throat feeling, my dear? Still a bit scratchy?"

  Jodie drew in a shaky breath, hiccoughing once. "No. . .I, I. . .guess. . .it's better. A lot b. . .better. . .but. . .but I still hurt so bad."

  "Yes, I'm sure you do," he replied soothingly as Logan coaxed the child to lie down so she could better position the ice packs. He was only a fraction of an inch away. So dangerously close she had difficulty keeping her hands from shaking. She could hear his soft breathing, smell the spicy fragrance of his aftershave. Paradise. Such a precious, yet foolish glimpse.

  Later after Jodie was resting quietly, the crisis over, Dr. Dellinger excused himself to make his rounds among the other campers and Logan started for Cabin 3-B. Retracing her steps alongside the creek, she came to the open meadow, and finally the footbridge that led to the cabins. Already she was beginning to know her way around the campgrounds fairly well she decided with growing satisfaction. But she'd barely had a chance to get Kimberly settled in yet, much less traipse back to her car, retrieve her own luggage, and change into another pair of shoes. A quick glance around the nurses' quarters—a Spartan room at the back of the infirmary with two single beds for Maggie and herself—had reminded her she still needed to unpack.

  As she edged her way over the footbridge, her thoughts swung back to Dr. Dellinger. Her stomach somersaulted. Why did his image always hover on the fringes of her mind? And most of all, how was she going to work with him this closely for the entire session and still maintain her sanity?

  Before Dr. Dellinger had left the infirmary, while she had been still familiarizing herself with the contents of cupboards, drawers, and medicine chests, he'd briefed Logan about the daily routine at camp. He'd also said that he and the director, Dan Garrett, plus the several therapists who were also volunteering as counselors, would be staying in the large dormitory not far from the infirmary. That meant he'd be practically an arm's length away at least part of each day. She took in another deep breath, then let out a heavy sigh. Yes, it was going to be a long four weeks.