Why on Earth would she subject herself, her daughter, and Kit to the horror of more interactions with her parents?
And how was she ever going to resist Kit if he kept being so wonderful?
Three days later, Kit sat opposite his two girls, experiencing a surreal moment of self-awareness. They were in a little cafe a few miles outside Casey’s summer camp, about an hour southwest of Wolf Creek Bend. Ivy’s tension had grown the closer they came to the camp. He’d decided to stop at the diner to give them both a little more time with Casey before going for a month without seeing her.
As he watched the two females he loved, every nuance that defined them became excruciatingly clear. They were opposites in many ways. Ivy’s dark hair to Casey’s fair hair. Casey was almost as tall as her petite mother. If he guessed correctly, she was going to be much taller than her mom was before she finished growing. They were both right-handed. They lifted their cups and held their silverware in exactly the same way. Their laughs were similar. They pushed their hair behind their ears with the same impatient strokes.
Casey fought so much of what she felt Ivy stood for, yet she was nearly a replica of her mom. He wondered, if he’d been a part of his daughter’s life in person, how much of him she would have absorbed?
“Do we have to stop here?” Casey complained. “They feed us at camp.”
“Casey, your mom and I aren’t going to see you for a month. Give us an hour. You won’t be late for check-in.”
“But it’s taking so long.”
“We just got here,” Ivy corrected. “Already, they’ve taken our orders and brought us our drinks. The service isn’t slow.”
Kit looked at Ivy and grinned, feeling strangely warm inside, being here, sharing this event with them. “What is it that you like best about camp?” he asked his daughter.
“Everything. The kids are different. They’re nice. They come from all over. Most of them have been going there for years, so I know a lot of them. And we do things every day. Like fishing and tracking and hiking. We have swim competitions in the lake. Man, that’s cold water. There’s lots of food. And we tell stories after dinner, late, when it gets dark.”
Ivy looked at Kit. “Last year, the director asked each of the kids to write or memorize a story they could share around the campfire this year.” She reached over to draw Casey’s hair back over her shoulder. “She’s got a whopper of a tale to tell.”
Kit grinned and leaned back. “Let’s hear it.”
“No, Dad. I can’t say it here. It needs to be dark and quiet.”
“Fine. When you get back, we’ll have a campfire and you can tell us your tale.”
“Okay. Maybe.”
Their food arrived. For a little girl who didn’t want the bother of stopping for a meal, she dug into her cheeseburger and fries with gusto. Kit squeezed some ketchup out on his plate. The brilliant red color against the white china plate gave him pause. He could remember a handful of times where every detail stuck out in his mind, etching itself in his consciousness. None of them ended well.
He ground his teeth and looked over at Casey, then Ivy.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy asked him.
He forced a smile through his locked jaw. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” He didn’t know what the warning meant, but he’d damned sure heed it.
The rest of the meal passed quickly. Casey scarfed her food down, then waited impatiently for Kit and Ivy to finish. Kit forced himself to finish his burger and a few of the fries. The town they were in was a sleepy one in any season, known best for fishing and backcountry camping—too remote and underdeveloped to attract many tourists. The kids’ camp, in the Medicine Bow Mountains, was a good half-hour from town along a steep and winding dirt road.
Kit had made sure that they hadn’t been followed so far. He sent a look around the diner, evaluating the customers. The few there appeared to be tired and dirty campers. There was a Laundromat across the street, next to a small market and gas station. No one paid attention to them, even surreptitiously. Casey was enrolled under her mom’s last name of Banks. Ivy had paid for the camp months ago. He hoped like hell they were flying under the radar. It wasn’t too late to call it off. He’d see how he felt once he got to the camp and met the guys Owen had sent in as bodyguards for Casey.
When Ivy finished her tea, they got out of the booth they were sitting in. Kit tossed down cash for the bill.
“Dad? You aren’t rethinking this, are you?” Casey asked as she watched him warily.
Kit gritted his teeth, then leaned over and kissed her head. “No.” They walked through the parking lot and climbed back into his SUV, driving in silence until they were about five minutes from camp. Kit pulled off the road onto a dirt trail that led off around some enormous granite outcroppings.
“What are you doing?” Ivy asked as he turned the SUV around and put it in park, out of sight of the road. He got out and opened the back seat, where his daypack sat on the floorboard. He didn’t expect to be gone more than an hour, but if something happened, he was going to need some of his gear.
“You go on to the camp without me. I’ll catch up with you shortly. I want to have a look around. Case—give your mom a full tour of the grounds.”
“She’s seen it before.”
“Not what I asked.” He caught her gaze and held it.
“Yes, Dad.”
He pulled out a slim white square that hung on a beaded chain around his neck and pointed to the same one she was wearing. “You’ve got your emergency beacon. Never take it off. Use it for any emergency.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“Anything you need me for.”
“We aren’t supposed to wear jewelry.”
“This isn’t jewelry. I’ve cleared it with the camp director. Keep it under your clothes so it doesn’t catch on anything. It can get wet, so wear it into the lake, in the shower, at night, during all activities. We clear?”
Casey eyed him, trying to intuit more info than he was willing to impart. She nodded, then slipped it under her shirt. “Yeah.”
Kit closed the door. Ivy had come around to his side of the vehicle. He slung his pack over his shoulders. She remained there, standing in front of him. He touched the tips of his fingers to her cheeks, then bent down and kissed her. Had Casey not been there, watching, he would have deepened the kiss. Hell, he’d have made good use of that granite outcropping.
“See you in a few.” He held the door for her. “Let the director know I’ll be meeting you there.”
“Dad!” Casey’s shout was muffled from inside the SUV. She rolled down her window. “I’m going to see you before you leave, right?”
“Right.” He ruffled her hair, then took off down the shadowy trail into the woods, jogging toward camp. About a hundred yards outside of it, he quietly circled the perimeter, looking for the best vantage points. The camp was comprised of several buildings. The chow hall, the office, large cabins that each housed twelve campers.
There were no trees within fifteen yards of the campus, for fire safety. It also meant there was little cover for someone to infiltrate—except under cover of the dark. Kit found a handful of points with the best visibility, then turned his attention to the two men he knew were watching the camp. He made a full circuit of the camp, twice, moving in an ever-widening sphere. The guys were good. They’d left no trail. No footprints. No broken twigs. No compressed pine needles—except that which might be mistaken for a place where deer would have bedded down.
He stood and waited next to one such spot. The hairs on his neck were prickling. Someone had been following him. As he watched the woods, it appeared a tree trunk split in half as an operative pulled away from his blind.
He cursed when he saw who the operative was. He knew her. Selena.
She smiled, recognizing his groan for what it was. Pure resentment. “Happy to see you, too. And thanks for the vacay.”
“I can’t believe Owen sent you.”
“You think they’d let a male Red Teamer bunk with your daughter or the other girls? Seriously, I have no idea what planet you males live on.”
Kit tucked his attitude away and held out a hand. Selena was like a human sword sheathed in a woman’s body. She was the only female to have made it through the Red Team program. And, to be honest, she scared the shit out of most of the guys.
“Peace, Selena. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather see here. Owen didn’t tell me who he was sending. And you’re always a bit of a surprise.” After they shook, he reiterated the setup. Keep focus on Casey. If she went into the lake, be in a boat nearby. If she went for a hike, ghost her. If they had a sleep-out under the stars, be nearby. “Who’s the other guy?”
“Fang Lee.”
Shit. Fang was a master of a dozen different forms of martial arts. Owen knew how to select his operatives. And he’d treated this guard detail like a full-on mission. For the first time in the days since he’d promised Ivy and Casey to make this work, Kit felt it actually was going to be all right.
“You’ve been provided the schedule. You’ve scoped out the grounds. Alert me if there’s any unusual activity. Latecomers we haven’t cleared—either as counselors or campers.”
“Copy that.”
Kit met Selena’s level gaze. “She’s my baby. My only kid.”
“Let her go, man. Let her have fun. She’ll be safe with us.”
“Right.” After one last worried glance, Kit took his leave and headed into the camp. Ivy and Casey were standing with a lean Asian man who was rigged out in camp pants and an army-green shirt with the word “Counselor” screen-printed over the back and the camp logo on the front.
Kit introduced himself to the director, who had just finished visiting with another set of parents. Her eyes widened. He could see the tracks of several questions in her expression, but she didn’t voice them. She merely nodded at him. They had no need for more chatting. They’d covered everything that needed discussion when he’d phoned her a few days ago.
“Dad!” Casey hurried over to him. Ivy and the warrior followed more slowly behind her. Casey wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled at the director. “This is my dad, Ms. Parker.”
“I know. It’s great to finally meet him!”
“Guess what, Dad?” Kit arched a brow at her. “Someone donated karate gear! We’ll get to train with Mr. Lee.”
“Hey, that’s awesome! You can keep up with your skills.”
“This year, we have a new counselor who’ll be working with the kids on those lessons,” Ms. Parker said. “Mr. Bolanger, I’d like you to meet Mr. Lee. We’re very excited to have him join the camp staff this year.”
The two shook hands. “Mr. Bolanger.”
“Good to meet you. You’ll take good care of my daughter.”
“Of course.”
“C’mon, I want to show you where I’m staying,” Casey said as she dragged Kit toward one of the cabins. She pulled him inside the compact space. Three sets of bunks lined the walls in two different rooms, each with their own bathroom. Between the two rooms was a shared public room. A picnic table sat in the middle of it. Off to one side was an alcove with twelve lockers stacked in six columns. At the other end was a sitting area on a big rag rug.
Kit was glad to see that a lock had been installed on the main door into the cabin, though that small barrier wouldn’t long impact someone intent on getting into the cabin, not with all the windows it had—all of which were open and unbarred.
A counselor was assigned to each group of five kids and bunked in the room with them. Selena would stay in here with his daughter.
“It’s safe, Dad,” Casey huffed, watching him evaluate the premises.
“I know.” He’d made it safe. A couple of the girls Casey was bunking with came in with their parents. Casey proudly introduced both of her parents to her friends. Ivy gave him an odd smile that he couldn’t quite follow. As soon as they could, they slipped out of the cabin to say good-bye to Casey.
She gave her mom a big hug. Then it was his turn.
“Thanks, Dad. It’ll be a good month, you’ll see.”
Kit smiled. He touched her cheek, which was every bit as soft as her mom’s. “I know it will be. I love you. Write to your mom some. Four weeks is a long time to be without you.”
Casey gave Ivy another hug. “I will. I love you guys!” She bounced away to rejoin her friends. Kit faced Ivy and caught her wiping her eyes. He wanted to pull her into a hug, but he doubted she’d appreciate the gesture here, in so public a place. He held his hand out for her to give him the SUV keys, but instead of the keys, she put her hand in his.
“I always hate this part. I’m glad you’re here.” She looked up at him. “How am I going to let her go off to college in a few years when I can barely stand to be without her for a few weeks?”
“It’ll be different then. You’ll be ready for her to take the next step in her life.”
“No, I won’t be. I’m going to have to move to wherever she goes to school.”
Kit laughed. “Yeah. You break that news to her, ’kay? But give me fair warning so I can be somewhere else.”
“Coward.”