Sydell Voeller Special Edition Read online

  "Here," Maggie said, digging into her back pack. "I brought you a cinnamon roll and a few link sausages in this carton. I thought you might change your mind about not being hungry come mid-morning. Last thing we need around here is one more camper with a sudden drop in blood sugar."

  "Thanks. They look and smell delicious. You're going to shoot up my cholesterol level yet." Gratefully Logan accepted the still-warm pastries that were wrapped loosely in aluminum foil. By now she had grown a trifle hungry. "What's the matter?" she asked between bites. "Is Richard having problems with his diabetes?"

  "Nothing serious yet. I did a finger stick glucose on him before breakfast and he was running a little low. If I happen to get side-tracked a little later on before lunchtime, you might want to check it again." She chuckled. "Maybe he's already decided that camp cooking isn't nearly as tasty as what he gets at home—even though I'll bet my bottom dollar his ma never strays one iota from his diabetic diet exchange."

  "No, I'm sure she doesn't. Hopefully Richard understands the necessity of eating everything that's put before him here at camp. It'd be a shame for him to waste the best part of his camp experience suffering from an insulin reaction simply because he skimped on his food."

  Their conversation was interrupted by footsteps on the threshold. Logan tossed a look over her shoulder and spotted Zack looking directly at her. The sight of him rocked her.

  "Good morning," she stammered. Her heart was pounding so loudly she swore both he and Maggie could hear it.

  "Mornin 'ladies!" His steady gaze shifted from Logan to Maggie. "Thought I might forewarn you that one of the counselor's discovered poison oak not far off the main trail. The kids have been cautioned to stay away from it—but you never know. Logan, will you please call the pharmacist at Mapleton Hospital and order another half a dozen of vials of Depo-Medrol. They'll send the medication out later today with their delivery person."

  "Certainly." Keep it efficient and business-like, Logan, old girl, she silently cautioned herself as she crossed the small room to the phone. Don't let him realize how only a few brief hours ago he'd so successfully chiseled away at her wavering resolve. Besides, what about him? Was his present cool demeanor an indication that last night had meant nothing? Was she merely one more in the endless succession of woman that had paraded through his life? Without a doubt, the answer was yes.

  While Zack and Maggie discussed Richard's blood sugar level and the possibility of having to readjust his insulin dose, she dialed the pharmacy and placed the order. Hopefully, by utilizing their daily delivery service that meant no more midnight runs into Mapleton for medicine. First chance she got, she'd take a thorough inventory of all vaccines, medications, dressings and other necessary supplies to make sure there was no chance of running short. Yet during the few minutes the pharmacist had placed her call on hold, she couldn't help stealing secret sideways glances at Zachary. Gosh, he was a heart stopper. Even the sight of him made her stomach quiver.

  The morning passed uneventfully with nothing more than the usual run of nettle stings, runny noses, mosquito bites, and only a few new incidents of poison oak reactions. To Logan's relief, Kim had somehow managed not to add her name to the roster of patients that had appeared that morning for routine first aid. Yet secretly, she almost wished Kimberly had suffered some minor mishap so Logan could have had the chance to check on her once again. It seemed like an eternity since she'd stolen a few moments to slip down to Cabin 3-B.

  After lunch, while Maggie manned the infirmary so Logan could catch a breath of fresh air, she wandered outside in the direction of the stables. Goodness only knew, she certainly needed the chance to stretch her legs. She'd grown so drowsy, she was certain she'd fall asleep on her feet.

  Overhead, the sun shone hot and white puffs of clouds scudded across the azure sky. She inhaled deeply, unexpectedly refreshed. Thinking again about her sister's recent blush of improving health, she decided maybe all along she herself had needed some of this pristine outdoor life as well. In fact, ever since the accident, taking a vacation had been the farthest thing from her mind.

  Too bad it had been Zachary Dellinger's idea that Kimberly come to Camp Rippling Waters and not Logan's. If Kimberly were to accomplish the feats of recovery he'd suggested earlier, Logan would be loath to give him the credit. Besides, last thing he needed was one more female beholden towards him, for any reason.

  As the stables came more plainly into view, she stopped short and blinked. There were Zack, Betty Jo and Kim, backs turned in her direction as they stood inside facing Midnight. It appeared Kim was leaning forward, feeding the black Arabian something from her flattened palm while Betty Jo and Zack stood flanked on either side of her wheelchair.

  Logan stiffened. Zack promised her he'd go easy. He'd save the horseback riding till later. Though she had agreed half-heartedly to the planned activities he'd suggested for Kimberly last night, the horseback riding had still left her apprehensive.

  Watching them, new dread washed over her. Why was Zack rushing this? Had his promise to her last night, a softly spoken prelude to his heated embrace, served merely as a tool to break down her resistance? Without a doubt, he was a master at breaking down a woman's resistance. Promises, she thought dully as she forced herself to turn away and blot out the scene before her. Empty, hollow promises.

  Now in the revealing light of day, what good were they?

  Chapter Four

  "So what’s the big deal? Why shouldn't I let Kim feed Midnight?" Zack's deep blue eyes flashed angrily.

  "You promised not to push her."

  "For Pete's sake, Logan! You'd think I was making your sister perform the most dangerous bareback riding act in the entire world. I'm just trying to help her get comfortable around horses, that's all. Besides, I gave you my word we wouldn't take Kim horseback riding till later. Regardless what you may believe about me, I am a man of honor."

  Logan strode across the infirmary to latch the door shut, then turned slowly to face him, spreading her hands wide. "Why do I even keep trying to make you to understand? How can you? You've never been responsible for a child—that is, your own flesh and blood."

  He glared back at her. "You're right. I'm the first one to admit it. Look, Logan. We've already been over this a thousand times. Let's just drop it, okay?"

  Mixed emotions of guilt and confusion swept over her. Here she was again, letting her protective feelings for Kim get the best of her. Maybe she was the one in the wrong, not Zack. Barring any unlikely disaster, what harm could come from Kim feeding Midnight? What's more, she was seeing in Zack a sincerity she hadn't been willing to recognize before. Was she ready to acknowledge fully what he'd just said was true—that he was a man of honor?

  "Yeah. Sure." She groped for an excuse. "I. . .I don't know what came over me a minute ago. It must be the heat. . .or maybe these blasted mosquitoes."

  "Yep, it's got to be the heat."

  The come-hither look in his penetrating blue eyes made her head reel. If she didn't get a better grip on herself, her insides might be quickly reduced to jelly.

  "Oh, I mean this summer heat," he was quick to qualify, though his mouth continued to twitch in a half-smile of amusement. "Maggie tells me that the infirmary stays stuffy all night. Too bad whoever touched up the window sills got sloppy and painted them shut. It'd be great if we could pry open a window to help cool the place off."

  "That certainly would help."

  He eyed her thoughtfully, then went on. "I have a great idea to help us both stay cool—that is, if you can wait that long. Next Tuesday night when the moon is new, let's go stargazing."

  "Uh. . .I don't know. I've almost run out of mosquito repellent." Without thinking, she took a cautious step back. Was this merely an excuse to get her off alone again like he had last night?

  "Oh, come on, Logan. We'll take my binoculars and head out right after the evening campfire. There's some good horizons up on that hill west of camp. No more than a fifteen minute hike or so. I bet
you've never seen the Summer Triangle or known that you can view our closest neighboring galaxy in the constellation Andromeda."

  Logan bit her lower lip. It was certainly tempting. The thought of standing under the stars with him gave her a strange breathless sensation. Besides, it appeared Zachary had some knowledge of the night sky. "You never told me you're an astronomer too," she said, slanting him a questioning glance.

  He chuckled. "No, I figured you'd find that out in due time. Actually, I'm really just a backyard astronomer. I don't even own a telescope, though it's rather astonishing what one can pick up in a good pair of binoculars."

  "But what about the campers?" she asked, reining in her professional responsibility. "We just can't keep running off and leaving them like this."

  "No problem. I'll wear my beeper. We can be back in a flash if anyone needs us." He held up a hand and broke into a devilish grin. "And don't give me that bit about running out of mosquito repellent. I've got plenty."

  There was no point trying to argue. Chances were, given the large number of other trained medical personnel, no one would need them during that short time anyway. Not even Kimberly seemed to need her as much anymore. Truth was, her sister was adjusting to the routine at camp better than she herself. Already Kim had participated in several rounds of volleyball, swam with assistance in the indoor pool behind the main lodge, and signed up for a short "wheelchair hike" first thing the next morning.

  "So what do you say, Logan?" Zack's deep voice pulled her thoughts back to the present. He reached out briefly and gently tweaked the tip of her chin, allowing his hand to linger there a trifle too long.

  "Uh. . .well. . .all right." She gave a quick shake of her head, trying to ignore her racing pulse. Stargazing. Stargazing with Zachary, of all things. Had she just relinquished every last trace of her customary good sense?

  * * *

  The following Tuesday they hiked to the top of the hill and stood gazing from horizon to horizon. The broad span of midnight blue arched over them like the inside of a gigantic dark globe. Glittering stars poked through. The planet Venus glowed in the west.

  "Here. Take these," Zack said, handing her his binoculars. "Look up at the Big Dipper, part of Ursa Major." He pointed high overhead and added, "If you look closely at the second star from the tip of the handle, you'll see not one star but two."

  "Wow! You're right!"

  He chuckled, his voice teasing. "Of course I'm right. Now sweep the binoculars east to Cassiopeia—the one that looks like a W. You'll see open star clusters near it."

  She gasped with delight. "Oh, Zack! I do see them. They're dazzling!"

  A crisp breeze rippled through her hair as she continued to peer through the binoculars. Zack stood directly behind, his strong chest pressed against her back, his arms snuggled tightly around her. His breath against her cheek was warm, contrasting the evening chill. A tingly sensation flooded over her. Was it because of Zack's intoxicating nearness or her enthrallment over the night sky, she wondered uneasily.

  As she lowered the binoculars, Zack gently cupped one hand beneath her chin. He was going to kiss her again, she just knew it.

  Without thinking she edged quickly away. She had come to camp for two simple reasons—to keep an eye on Kimberly and to volunteer four weeks of professional services. Entertaining thoughts of romance was totally inappropriate, especially with Zackary.

  Apparently unfazed by her subtle rejection, he continued talking. "When I was a kid, I never got much past watching a shooting star or two. But later as I grew older and began to appreciate nature through an adult's eyes, I began to realize how easy it would be to go through life and miss all this."

  "Yes. It would be a shame. . ." Logan's voice trailed. Despite her push-pull feelings, she couldn't help but agree with him.

  They spent nearly two hours there—gazing, admiring, sharing the celestial ambience. While Zack pointed out the Summer Triangle, calling each star by name, Logan was plagued by still another discomforting realization. Stargazing with Zachary could become hopelessly addicting.

  "Someday, Logan," he said as they were preparing to leave. "Someday when my dreams of relocating come true, I'll be able to look up and see the stars like this every night."

  "I certainly hope so, Zack," she told him softly. "I hope your dreams will come true."

  Perhaps that's what was missing in her life these past couple of years, she'd mused later after they'd said goodnight. She'd been so entangled in her personal problems, she nearly forgot what dreaming was all about.

  At one time her life with Matthew had been filled with dreams—in the beginning, at least. How she'd yearned for children. A loving husband. A rewarding family life, balanced by a satisfying career. But they'd been banished. Forever, perhaps. Yes, without a doubt, she'd lost all sight of her dreams. How strange that Zack should be the one to reawaken her awareness of that.

  * * *

  The remainder of the week slipped by. Logan's days were fraught with one problem after the next. In addition to her ever-present battle with mosquitoes, she learned with alarm that she had developed a respiratory allergy to whatever pollens pervaded the wooded campgrounds.

  Zack had supplied her with the necessary antihistamines, but they only minimized her symptoms. Her eyes watered constantly and the sight of her nose reminded her of Santa's reindeer Rudolph. What good was her carefully applied make-up if it was always streaked and smudged with tears? Worse, she knew she must look a sight. But then why should that matter, as far as Zack was concerned, she kept reminding herself. She never intended to impress him in the first place.

  Then there were the problems with the children. Life here at camp could be difficult compared to the controlled environment at the hospital.

  To begin, Richard was balking at much of the camp food just as she and Maggie had predicted. Logan suspected that Richard was homesick, but every time she attempted to help the lad work through it, he only burst into tears and told her to go away. Zack, too, appeared troubled about Richard, though he handled his concerns coolly and professionally.

  Small wonder, Logan reasoned. Sometimes she thought Zack was immune to real worry. Just like the times he'd accused her of worrying unnecessarily about Kimberly.

  In addition, the counselors continued to discover new patches of poison oak. Despite the staff's best efforts, increasing numbers of campers were reporting to the infirmary every day with that tell-tale itchy rash. To make matters worse, the pharmacy in Mapleton was running short of Depo-Medrol. That, added to an outbreak of head lice in three of the cabins, was enough to convince Logan further that she was definitely not cut out for this type of nursing. Even the counselors who had to make repeated trips to the Laundromat in Mapleton to wash mountains of bed linens were beginning to complain.

  "Gee, Sissie! Not again!" Kimberly protested throughout the week while Logan repeated the daily ritual of checking her hair. "This is silly! Why can't you leave me alone?"

  "Kimberly Corbett, this is not silly," Logan would reprimand. "It takes only one tiny hatched egg to cause a heap of trouble. Besides, I'm sure I saw you scratching." Every time Logan thought about head lice, it was enough to make her head itch too.

  Monday, exactly two weeks after her arrival at camp, Logan was enjoying an evening of relaxation in the privacy of her room. The campers and other staff were gathered at the edge of the forest for the nightly campfire.

  "Take some time off," Maggie had coaxed. "I'll go and let you turn in early."

  Logan tied back her hair at the nape of her neck with a pale lavender ribbon, and stole an approving glance at herself in the mirror. Even her allergies had cleared up, she noted. Why, her eyeliner had remained virtually unsmudged all day long. Next she applied a thin coat of cleansing cream, then removed her make-up with a tissue. The medicinal coolness felt wonderfully refreshing.

  Slipping into bed, she smiled with contentment. Oh, the sweet airy fragrance of sun-dried sheets. Thank goodness she'd decided to take advanta
ge of the clothesline someone had put up behind the infirmary. Automatic dryers were certainly a convenience, but the finished result could never compare to this. Yes, maybe camp life was changing her just a trifle, she thought, feeling warm and snug. Her light-weight knit pajamas were a far-cry from the filmy sheer nightgowns she normally slept in at home.

  A gentle stream of night air, like cool velvet brushing her face, drifted in through the open screened window.

  Before leaving for the campfire, Zack had managed to pry open the sills. "Next summer, I'll do the painting," he'd teased.

  Though Logan had returned his banter with her own light-hearted reply, she was touched by his thoughtfulness. No one had prodded or begged him to fix that window. Despite his varied responsibilities at camp, he remembered to do that without delay.

  A ribbon of moonlight slanted in through the window. Outside she could hear the chirping of crickets and farther away, the faint strains of music as the campers lifted their voices in song.

  Logan couldn't help humming along. Those wonderful camp tunes—some refreshingly silly, others more touchingly beautiful—had already etched their way into her heart. "I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills. . ." The lyrics continued, round after lilting round. Yes, she admitted to herself. How could anyone not love the beauty and peacefulness of these surroundings?

  A strange scratching sound jolted her from her reverie. What was it? A mouse? Or worse, a rat?

  The scratching came again, this time a little louder. Her heart pounded as she sat bolt upright and faced the window, then peered into the darkness. The sheer lace curtains fluttered slightly in the breeze, but she saw nothing.