He saved her life...

But he’s not the hero she expects

Dana Sothern has finally found the man who rescued her as a teen. But when she tries to thank Matt Rodriguez, instead he challenges her to volunteer at his youth camp. The experience brings Matt and Dana closer. But away from the camp, the reformed bad boy’s and the corporate lawyer’s worlds are far apart. Can they bridge the gap between them?

Writing has been a passion for JANICE CARTER from a young age, but her “second” career after teaching didn’t officially start until she took a romance-writing course at a local community college. The story she began then became her debut novel, a Mills & Boon Intrigue. Janice says she’s been very lucky to be able to do what she enjoys most—writing about the connections between people and their families; in other words, how we find love and romance.

Also By Janice Carter

For Love of a Dog

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Her Kind of Hero

Janice Carter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09745-1

HER KIND OF HERO

© 2019 Janice Hess

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Dana dived under the water, coming up inches away from him.

Her teeth were chattering as Matt drew her close. He held her against him until she stopped shivering, then gently eased her back far enough to be able to lower his face to hers. Her lips were soft and full and sweet.

She pulled back abruptly and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m ready to get out.”

Matt watched her jump through the water onto the shore where she bent down to get her towel. By the time he waded to the beach she’d spread out the blanket.

Matt hoped his impulsive kiss wouldn’t change the easygoing connection that had sprung up between them. He liked this slow unfolding of common interests and shared experiences and didn’t want to jeopardize it.

But Dana’s life had been cushioned from the hard realities of the lives of many in Chicago. How would she react to the real Matt Rodriguez? Would he still be a hero in her eyes?

Dear Reader,

Her Kind of Hero is my second Heartwarming and my thirteenth Harlequin romance novel. I call it my “lucky” thirteen because I feel lucky to have the opportunity to write stories of people connecting with one another, with family and community.

But this book is particularly special to me. When my children were young and before I returned to full-time work, I was involved in a number of community organizations as a volunteer and a board member. Those experiences were enriching and gave me an appreciation of the importance of community work not only at the local level, but to society as a whole.

This book is special for me in another way, too. The frightening incident that brought my heroine, Dana Sothern, together with her hero, Matt Rodriguez, was partially based on a news article and a long-ago personal experience of mine. I speculated how a narrow escape, such as the one Dana and Matt had, might lead to a new direction in a person’s life. For Dana and Matt, the repercussions and personal revelations of a terrifying moment on a subway platform led to new beginnings for both of them. And also to something totally unexpected—love.

Enjoy the read!

Janice Carter

For Sybil Jean Best, with much love.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

MATT RODRIGUEZ DIDN’T bother reading the article. The headline wasn’t auspicious—No Home for Group Home. Another neighborhood protest that was certain to sabotage another project that was meant to help the community. There’d been a time when he’d thought those two words—neighborhood and community—were synonymous, but his experiences over the past few years had shown that it wasn’t true in the real world. He sighed and closed the laptop. Bad timing for his funding proposal to the city of Chicago for the drop-in center and the camp.

He stroked the top of his head, rubbing against the bristles of new hair growth. Two weeks ago, he’d decided to aim for a more conservative look. He thought it would help bolster his image as a solid representative of the community instead of an activist who might—heaven forbid!—shake the pillars of the very community he hoped to improve. For all, not just some. Whatever It Took was his motto. The new look was simply another incarnation in a series for Mateo “Matt” Rodriguez.

There was a sharp tap on his office door before it swung open. “Hey, Matt? Got a sec?” Sandro Garcia, Matt’s childhood buddy, stood in the doorway.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Maria finished the city funding proposal and submitted it online but when she tried to print it...”

Matt groaned. “Not again.” They’d been tolerating their malfunctioning printer for weeks now, putting off the decision to replace it. Not that printers were pricey, but the budget was tight. “Okay, have her get a new one out of petty cash.”

“Here or in the city?”

“Whatever’s convenient for her. I’m sure there’s a discount warehouse kind of place here.”

“In Willow Springs?”

Matt heard the scoff in Sandro’s voice. “Just take care of it, okay?”

The door closed quietly behind Sandro and Matt took a deep breath. Alienating his small crew, especially his best friend, wasn’t going to solve his money problems. And it sure as heck wasn’t going to improve his personal problems either. He glanced down at his cell phone. His mother had promised to let him know as soon as she and Rosie, Matt’s sister, left the hospital. The appointment was more than an hour ago so they should be finished by now. He wished that he’d been more insistent on going with them.

“No, Mati,” his mother, Esperanza, had said, patting his forearm. “Rosie and I can manage just fine. We’re taking a cab.”

She was too proud. Matt could relate—pride had always been one of his greatest flaws. He’d choked on it far too many times in his life. At least, he had after that day. Before then, pride had been a badge of honor. It had governed much of his life, propelling him to words and actions he regretted years later. But after that day, his pride had been slowly whittled away. First, with the army in Iraq and then struggling through college for his youth worker diploma. The years working for various nonprofit community groups before establishing KidsFirst and lastly, Camp Hope, were even more humbling. All of which was a good thing. Too much pride was definitely counterproductive. His post-teenage incarnation had taught him that and he’d devoted many hours since his teens—and that day—ridding his mind of it.

But he wished now he’d gone with his family. Esperanza was getting the diagnosis from the gamut of tests she’d endured and Rosie was there to provide support, though Matt knew their roles would be reversed. Navigating with canes, as Rosie was doing at the moment because she was out of remission, was challenging. It would be his mother helping Matt’s younger sister.

The cell phone screen lit up. Matt grabbed it, reading the first few lines of the banner. All finished now. Tired and on our way home. Not to worry.

He tapped in his mother’s number, but the call went to her voice mail. Perhaps she was helping Rosie into the taxi. Or maybe they were in it and on the way home. Esperanza had funny ideas about using cell phones in public. I’m not having people listen in on my private phone conversations, she always insisted.

Then text, Mama.

She’d waved a hand. Too much trouble. All those little buttons. And on it went, their endless debate that always made Rosie laugh and Matt raise his shoulders in exasperation.

Matt tried again, getting through this time. There was a muffled hello, followed by a blast of static which he assumed came from Esperanza’s hand over the phone as she told Rosie—and likely the cabbie, too—that it was Mati on the line. Finally, his mother said, “We’re almost home, Mati.”

“How did it go? What did the doctor say?”

The silence told him more than Esperanza did. “We’ll talk about it later. Come for dinner. I made posole this morning.”

She didn’t need to dangle his favorite soup to get him home for a meal this time. Whatever news she had was best heard face-to-face.

“Okay, Ma, I’ll see you later. Take care.” Matt placed the phone on his desk and turned to stare out the window. The trees would eventually be in leaf, blocking his view of the lake. Spring was on its way in mid-April and with it, the second year of Camp Hope. He’d named it after his mother, because in spite of all the troubles in Esperanza’s life, she never lost hope for better times. Matt’s father died when Matt was eleven and Esperanza was pregnant with Rosie. In the years after that, Rosie was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and Matt had a teenage flirtation with crime. Now Matt prayed his mother had enough hope left in her for whatever she and the family were about to face.

There was another knock on the door. “Come in,” Matt said. Sandro peeked around the door and Matt sighed, “Look, I didn’t mean to snap earlier.”

“Yeah, sure, forget about it.” Sandro came into the office.

Matt doubted Sandro had gained more than an inch or even a pound since tenth grade but the shoulder-length hair was gone, exchanged for the shaved look, and the small goatee certainly hadn’t been around when the two had been teenagers growing up on the South Side. Sandro’s tentative nature was the same though, and his tendency was to let Matt take the lead. In spite of Matt’s efforts to inspire more independence in his best friend—brothers in all but blood as they’d always boasted—Sandro seemed content to let Matt guide the way. And Matt had to admit, maybe that hadn’t been such a bad thing. Sandro had followed his lead, moving away from the gang they’d almost joined and instead signing up for the army with him.

“My mom got her test results today.”

“Oh man. And?”

“Don’t know yet. She wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“They’re on their way home now. I was thinking of packing it in for the day.”

“Do it. Maria’s already left. She’s picking up the printer on her way home.”

“Okay. How much did you authorize?”

“A hundred. We can always reimburse any extra.”

“Okay. Great. So, are you on your way, too?”

“Uh, soon. Got some emails to send out. You know, replies to some of our queries about the project. Also, I have to meet the drywallers tomorrow at nine for the new sleep cabin. And you’re supposed to go over next month’s schedule with Kristen at the center.”

“Right. Did the electrical get done today?”

“Just about. He’s finishing up tomorrow.”

Matt thought for a minute, his mind still spinning from the phone call. “Okay. I’ll email Kristen to confirm our meeting, unless there’s a problem...you know...with my mom.”

“Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself. One step at a time.”

“You’re right. Thanks for that, buddy.” Sandro had always been good at calming him down.

After Sandro left, Matt checked his email again to see if there’d been any word about his request to give a presentation about the camp at a Willow Springs town council meeting. His KidsFirst organization had a one-year lease from the council for the site at Maple Lake, with the understanding that the lease would be extended. The council had even given permission to renovate the existing sleeping cabin and build another—projects funded by KidsFirst.

Last year Camp Hope had been only a day camp. That worked, since it was a half-hour-or-so bus ride from Chicago. But the kids had loved it so much, and Matt had heard from a lot of them that they’d like to stay. Matt understood perfectly. Some of them were returning to extreme situations and almost all of them had begun to feel the positive effects of the country, the social bonding that came in a setting of trees, water and birds. It was a simple but vital formula for healing and inspiring.

Except he’d just received notice from the council that the lease renewal was being reviewed. That left their new year up in the air, not to mention the money they’d already spent with the understanding that the renewal was a given. Matt sighed, rubbing his fingers through the new crop of hair. He had to stay positive, for the sake of his staff as well as the kids. He refreshed his inbox again, hoping for a message he knew hadn’t yet arrived. Everything in the community service sector moved at a snail’s pace.

But there was still time. Camp Hope wasn’t scheduled to start until school let out but Matt was hoping they could bus kids to the camp for a few weekends in late May and early June, before the official opening. The visits would be a test run for the actual operation throughout the summer.

Normally he used the short commute back to the city to plan for the next day, but now Matt’s mind was swirling with thoughts of the immediate future—his mother’s, Rosie’s and even his. By the time he turned onto his mother’s street in Pilsen, Matt figured his heart rate was way too high for a healthy thirty-seven-year-old man. He paused outside the bungalow he’d helped his mother purchase after Rosie’s diagnosis. Last summer, he and Sandro had built the ramp and installed grab bars throughout the house when it seemed her condition might deteriorate. Matt took a deep breath, knowing he’d have to hide his anxiety from his mother, and went inside.

Esperanza was standing at the stove, stirring the pot of posole, while Rosie sat at the table slicing corn bread. She smiled up at him as he entered the small room.

“Hey, punk,” Matt said, tousling her hair.

Rosie pushed his hand away and grinned up at him. “Hope you’re hungry. Ma made enough for—”

“The proverbial army?”

“As always.”

“Leftovers tomorrow and no cooking. What’s there to complain about?” scolded Esperanza as she ladled out bowls of the soup.

They ate quickly, with no mention of the test results. Matt knew his mother wouldn’t spoil their enjoyment of a good meal with serious talk.

The posole was as delicious as always and Matt felt no compunction about taking a container of it home. Rosie shooed them out of the kitchen, insisting on cleaning up. If she could still commute downtown every day for her job, albeit sometimes by special transit or taxi, she could do dishes.

Matt followed his mother into the small living room and sat beside her on the sofa. She took his hand, looked him in the eye and said, without a quaver in her voice, “It’s breast cancer, but stage two. So not to worry, everything will be all right.”

He stared at her, his hand gripping hers as he waited for his breath to return. He tried to speak but she stopped him.

“I’m tired, Mati. It’s been a long day and I need some time to let all this sink in. You and I...and yes, Rosie...will talk on the weekend. Okay?” She patted his cheek with her free hand. “Go home now. I know it’s been a long day for you, too.”

“Mom—”

“Shhh. I know you love me. I know you’ll do whatever you have to whenever you have to.” She released him, stood up and headed for the kitchen.

Matt sat for a moment longer, waiting for his vision to clear, then took his soup from the hallway table and quietly left the house. He didn’t trust himself to go back into the kitchen. When he got into his car, he lowered his head onto the steering wheel and wept.

Much later that night, when he finally surrendered any hope of sleep, he thought of that day. Of the girl. She popped into his head, the way she had off and on over the years, as a blur of images. A scream. A figure flying. He couldn’t recall her face, but he’d never forgotten her eyes, the terror in them. Sometimes he wondered, What if? What if that day hadn’t happened? What if he hadn’t done what he did? Most of all, what if he’d turned back? Gone to her and found out her name.

One month later

DANA DRIED HER hands on the folded terry cloth square and dropped it into the wicker basket beneath the sink. She ran her fingertips around the waistband of her gray linen skirt, checking that her white silk blouse was tidily tucked inside, and devoted another few seconds to the mirror, turning her head from side to side. Any potential stray wisps of her naturally curly hair were firmly in place, tightly wound into the small chignon at the base of her neck. She reached into her purse on the marble vanity for her tube of concealer and applied another coating to the dark circles beneath her eyes. A touch of lipstick followed by one last study of her reflection and she was set.

She cast one last glance at Mega Corps’s executive washroom before exiting into the hallway leading to the boardroom. As she reached the door, the CEO’s executive assistant called out, “Miss Sothern? I’m about to get the refreshments for the coffee break. What beverage can I get you?”

Dana hesitated. Another coffee might rev her up too much. “Mineral water, if you have it, please. Tap will do otherwise.”

“All right. The group has withdrawn to the lounge in Mr. Arnold’s suite.” The assistant tilted her head to the door adjacent to her boss’s office.

Dana pursed her lips. This was supposed to have been a short break, not a gathering that, fueled by food and drink, would most certainly extend to lunchtime and beyond. No doubt it was a ploy by Arnold to delay the negotiations. She gave a silent oath, assumed a neutral facial expression and walked past the assistant’s desk to the lounge. A rumble of male voices greeted her as she entered the room on the fiftieth floor of the former John Hancock Center.

Her client Harold Arnold had managed to befriend the executive officer of Addison Manufacturing, the company Mega Corps intended to buy. Addison Manufacturing had recently released a new product which so far had failed to wow the market. If shares in the company didn’t rally, Arnold’s negotiating price would change. By stalling the agreement, Dana knew he was hoping to get the lowest possible price. And since Sothern and Davis, Mega Corps’s lawyers, would also take a cut of their percentage, Dana had been instructed to nail down the terms today.

Which wasn’t going to happen, she realized. The gathered businessmen were holding flutes of champagne. She dug her fingernails into her palms, quelling her irritation. Arnold was the most unlikable client she’d ever represented, and she just wanted to get the deal signed. Then she planned to hand Mega Corps’s file over to Ken Patel, another lawyer at her father’s firm.

“Dana!” Harold Arnold called out from the bar, where he was filling glasses. “Come and get a glass.”

She bit her lip and headed his way. “No coffee?”

“This is so much more fun, isn’t it? And it’s not even noon yet.”

“Are we reconvening after lunch?”

“What do you think?” he laughed and held up a glass for her.

“No, thanks, Harold. I should get back to the office.”

His face fell. “I thought you’d join me for lunch. Just the two of us. We can go over the last few details.”

Dana wondered if her shudder had been obvious. “I was hoping we could finish up today, Harold. Get the papers ready to be signed tomorrow.”

“Plenty of time,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. He reluctantly set the champagne flute onto the tray.

“Guess you decided to celebrate first?”

His mouth twitched at the edge in her voice. “Why not? It’s a done deal, isn’t it?”

He was right. Addison Manufacturing was in trouble and would sign, if not today then soon. Dana nodded. “Sure. Okay then. We’ll talk.” She turned on her high heel and walked toward the door, opening it as Harold’s assistant was about to enter with a tray of pastries and coffee.

After retrieving her suit jacket and briefcase, Dana took the elevator down to the ground floor and considered her options. She did have other work to do, but she wasn’t expected back until tomorrow morning. It was a bright balmy day in mid-May and this was a rare opportunity to play hooky.

She headed for a coffee shop on the concourse, thinking tea and a sweet treat would make her feel better about not making her deadline. Once she had a scone and herbal tea, she picked up a copy of the Tribune that someone had left behind and lazily flicked through it.

She stopped at an article in the second section of the paper. The headline—No More $$$ for Kids—caught her eye, but it was the photograph that captured her attention. She set the mug of tea onto the table and, hands shaking, studied the picture. It must have been taken a few weeks ago—maybe mid- or late April—because the trees in the background were still in bud. The man in the photo was standing in front of a two-story building. He looked different now than he had that day. He had hair, though not much, and looked a bit bulkier than she remembered. He was a man now, not a boy. Dana wasn’t certain she could trust her memory though. For years that day had been only a jumble of sounds—shouts and screams—mixed with the grinding of metal on metal. Faces remained a blur, but she could vividly recall the strength of arms and hot frantic breath on her face. It had to be him.

Dana read the caption beneath the photo—“Matt Rodriguez, executive director and founder of KidsFirst Place”—then skimmed through the short article. His organization, a drop-in center and outreach program for inner-city kids, had learned that a funding request was going to be halved due to municipal budget constraints. A camp for those kids was in jeopardy of not running this summer.

“‘It’s a shame that the city doesn’t put kids first,’ Rodriguez said. ‘Surely politicians can figure out that investing money early in a kid’s life will pay off a hundredfold for them and for the city. Or can’t they?’”

She dropped the paper onto the table. This was the moment she’d thought about many times over the past twenty years, but faced with it, she was at a loss. Every system in her body seemed to have slowed down, except for her heart, which pounded against her rib cage. Of course, she had options. She could wait for her body to calm itself, finish her tea and go home. Or she could... What? Try to find him?

Face it, Dana. You only have two choices: ignore this or check it out.

But instinctively she knew there was really no choice at all. She dug into her purse for her phone, looked up KidsFirst online, then gathered up her things and left the coffee shop and hailed a cab.

“Sure this is the right address?” asked the cabbie, eyeing her.

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Your call,” he said and flipped down the meter, heading for the South Side. Traffic was light and the taxi pulled up in front of a beige brick building before Dana had a chance to figure out what she would say or do if he was there. Especially if it really was him.

After paying the cabbie, she stood on the sidewalk a moment, staring at the storefront window and the name stenciled on it—KidsFirst Place. Dana took a deep breath and went inside. The interior was bigger and more welcoming than she’d expected from the outside. A large open space that continued as far into the building as Dana could see. She walked past an alcove of coat hooks and cubbyholes, a bulletin board crammed with scraps of paper and beside it, a whiteboard displaying a schedule of events and programs.

No one was around. Dana paused to scan the room for a reception desk. As she walked farther in, she came across two women tidying up a reading lounge. She also spotted someone hunched over a computer in a row of desktops. One of the women noticed her and came toward her.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, I’m looking for Mr. Rodriguez.”

“Are you from the media?”

Dana wondered how many media types carried briefcases and wore designer suits. She made an effort not to sound patronizing when she replied, “No, I’m not.”

“Just that Matt’s been kinda swamped lately, with people wanting follow-up interviews.”

“It’s a personal matter.”

“Um, okay. He’s in his office. Down that way, past the kitchen. If the door’s closed, just knock. We’re pretty informal here.”

“Thank you.” Dana walked past the woman, thinking they might be informal, but they were definitely protective. She stood a moment outside the closed door, its sign urging, “Knock and come in!” and tried to calm herself. The telltale signs of anxiety—feeling flushed, sweaty palms and rapid heart rate—that Dana had spent almost a lifetime attempting to control rose up.

She tapped once on the door and flung it open before she could change her mind. The man sitting at the desk looked up from the computer in front of him. Dana first noticed the flash of alarm in his dark brown eyes, then she saw his hands on the keyboard. She remembered those hands.

As he started to stand, she blurted out, “You saved my life.”

CHAPTER TWO

MATT STARED IN stunned silence at the woman on the other side of his desk.

“Twenty years ago? On the Green Line to Oak Park?” she prompted.

The memory rushed at him like the train coming into the station. He’d been seventeen. It had been around 3 p.m. on a late-winter day, and except for some other teens he didn’t know on the far end of the platform, the subway station had been pretty much deserted. He had been on his way to his gang initiation. The sound of jeering caught his attention. Two girls were fighting, surrounded by a small circle of onlookers. Matt tried to ignore them. But another loud cheer made him look back. That was when he realized it wasn’t a fight so much as a jostling, though one girl in particular was on the receiving end of the pushing and shoving. Her backpack flew across the platform and Matt tensed. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the headlights of the incoming train reflected on the tunnel walls. There was a scream, followed by a girl flying through the air, her hair streaming behind her, onto the train tracks.

But she hadn’t been this...this woman. Had she? Dry mouthed, Matt said, “Why don’t you take a seat?”

She set a briefcase on the floor and pulled up the chair adjacent to his desk. “You remember, don’t you. I can see it in your face.”

“I...I do remember that day but you... Your hair...was longer and...” Matt searched through his memory for other details.

She touched manicured fingers to the knot at the base of her neck. “A bit shorter now and I have it up at the moment...” Her voice, already only a thin whisper, trailed off.

He waited for her to catch her breath. Memories of that day had been with him for twenty years, lurking just beneath the surface. He could see himself charging down the platform but had no recollection of jumping onto the tracks. Just that he was suddenly there, grabbing onto a thick winter coat and then wrapping his arms around a girl. Lifting her, then shoving her up onto the platform. Scrambling after her as the train roared into the station and screamed to a halt. It all happened in seconds. Fractions of seconds.

Matt leaned across the desk for a closer look. That day he hadn’t noticed the color of her eyes, just the stark horror in them. He looked at her—the greenish-brown tints in eyes now blurred with memory, the scatter of pale freckles across her nose.

“How old were you then?”

“Fifteen.”

A kid. Not anymore though. She’d be thirty-five now, though as he took in the business attire and the prim hairdo, he thought they added at least a decade. But she definitely hadn’t been beautiful then, as she was now. He’d have remembered that.

“And you?”

“Me?”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “You seemed older. Later, when I was thinking of you, I pictured someone much older.”

Matt had been much older in some ways that day than he was right now. He cleared his throat. “So...uh...it looks like things worked out okay for you.”

“I’m alive.” Her smile added another dimension to his new picture of her. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes. They’d shared a terrifying moment that day and clearly each had some common recollections of it, but as for afterward? Different stories.

“I’m sure you’d have—”

“No.” Her voice pitched. She shook her head. “No one... They all were just standing there. In shock, I guess. That girl pushed me. I went backward and fell over my backpack onto the tracks. When you ran to help me, they all took off. A woman came along as the train was leaving the station. I was still sitting there, where you set me down.” She waited a second. “She helped me gather up my things. She wanted to call the police but what was the point? They were all gone. I didn’t know any of them.”

Matt was processing that when she blurted, “Why didn’t you stay?”

He winced. He’d tortured himself with that question for years. “Well, you seemed okay. And, uh...I had to get somewhere.” Like far away from my original destination, he added silently. He ought to have stayed, but as he had done so many times back then, he’d disappointed someone. That time it had been her.

“I kept thinking I might see you again. On the Green Line. To thank you.”

“I didn’t usually take that line but...uh...I was visiting someone.” The lie slipped out. Matt glanced down at the files on his desk. Now what? What was the social etiquette around meeting for the first time someone—a beautiful woman—whose life you once saved?

“My name’s Matt. Matt Rodriguez,” he said, realizing that they hadn’t officially met.

“Yes, so I read in the paper. There was a photo and caption, along with an article about a budget cut.”

“Is that how you found me? The article in yesterday’s Trib?”

She nodded. “I saw it this morning.” Then added, “I’m Dana Sothern.”

She must have come right here, Matt realized. After she’d made the connection she could have passed on the opportunity to meet face-to-face. Yet she hadn’t. He wondered about that. “Since you’ve come all this way, would you like a tour?”

She hesitated, then said, “Okay.”

She didn’t seem ready to go, as if she were content to just sit and stare a bit longer. But Matt needed to get up and away from that clear-eyed gaze, though he couldn’t explain why he found it so unsettling. The perfectly ordinary teenage girl from twenty years ago had definitely morphed into someone interesting, he thought. Well, she grew up, buddy. Like you.

He led the way from his office into the large open space of the center. “You may have noticed the information boards on your way in. We run a number of activities for the kids, to accommodate the age range and interests.”

“Which is?”

“Nine to fifteen.”

“Why that range?”

The questions—or was it the intensity of her expression?—put him off his stride. “We decided not to include younger kids because there are already community groups in the area for them. And a lot of older kids have after-school jobs. We do offer tutoring and remedial high school courses for kids fifteen to eighteen twice a week. A couple of teachers volunteer for those, but my staff has the training to focus on preteens and early teens.”

She looked around the room and gestured down the central corridor to the tech area. “I see computers. Do you offer courses?”

“As you can see, we only have six and they’re in high demand. Usually at least one is out of circulation due to some kind of tech issue. We have to limit usage because the kids would be on them all the time, but we try to organize equitable sessions for the various age groups.”

“And you don’t have the budget to buy more?”

Matt turned to look at her. “Our budget’s tight and we have to prioritize. Especially now, with the recent cutback.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Right. Anyway, most families have computers, don’t they? Maybe not state-of-the-art but...”

“Many do but not all can afford internet,” he interrupted. “The families of these kids have to prioritize, too.” Matt disliked the patronizing comment but surely she could have figured that out for herself.

If his tone bothered her, she was good at hiding it. “How long have you been running this place?” she asked, returning her gaze to him.

“It’s been in operation for six years.” He was about to go on when Kristen approached.

“Hey, Matt, Jeanette’s going to replenish the snack supplies. Do you need anything? She can pick up something for your lunch, if you like.”

“No, thanks, I’m good.” Matt caught her quick appraisal of Dana, standing beside him, and added, “Kristen, this is Dana Sothern. She’s...uh...” He hesitated, searching for an easy explanation.

“Interested in community organizations,” Dana finished. She extended her hand, which Kristen took after a second’s pause.

“From the funding end or volunteering?”

Social niceties were never Kristen’s style. Matt looked away, hiding his smile.

“Definitely funding,” Dana said, taking Matt by surprise.

“Wonderful,” Kristen said and sauntered away.

Matt was puzzled by her manner. She’d been working at the drop-in almost from its inception, so she knew more than anyone how important volunteers and sponsors were. He didn’t understand the lack of appreciation in her voice. Perhaps it stemmed from the staff’s pessimism since the drop-in’s funds from the city were cut. Either that or she took exception to Dana for some other reason.

“Where were we?” Dana asked when Kristen was out of earshot.

Matt was suddenly tongue-tied. “Well, you can see the lounge area from here.” He pointed to the carpeted space in the center of the room, with its sagging couches and beanbag chairs. “We get most of our book donations from the local library, whenever they weed their collection. A lot of the kids are more into magazines, so we include a few subscriptions in our budget.”

“Couldn’t they read them online? Be cheaper.”

Matt pursed his lips. “Then they’d have to access the computers and—”

“Oh, right. There are only six of them.”

The silence that fell between them said it all. Whatever world she came from, her clothes and demeanor signaled it was one Matt had never been a part of. He suddenly doubted whether the woman next to him could really be the frightened, vulnerable girl he’d saved that day. Only moments ago, he’d been keen to know more about her, to learn what she’d been doing the past twenty years. But now he could see the wide gap between them. Just because you saved her life doesn’t mean you two have a bond.

“Okay, there you have it. I should get back to my paperwork.” He noticed what he thought was a flicker of disappointment on her face.

As he turned away, she said, “My briefcase. I left it in your office.”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, heading toward the front of the room. The burst of energy created by the woman’s surprise appearance had fizzled out and all the questions that had popped into Matt’s head had vanished. Anyway, it’s not as if you’re going to be friends.

He stood by the door, waiting while she picked up her briefcase. Then she abruptly sat again, placed the case on the desk and opened it up. Matt watched her skim through partitions, and when she withdrew a checkbook, his suspicion about what she was doing was confirmed. Well, hadn’t she told Kristen her interest in the center was focused on funding? Wasn’t this a good thing?

But the emotion flowing through him didn’t feel good, especially when she turned around and said, “This is the least I can do. To thank you for that day.” She held the check out as he walked past her to his own chair.

The figures blurred for a second as he looked at the check. The amount would easily cover the cost of the new sleeping cabin at Camp Hope. He glanced up, noticing the small but tight smile on her otherwise impassive face and felt his cheeks heat up. His hand trembled and he set the check down while clenching his other hand into a fist. He waited until he could speak without raising his voice and in that pause saw confusion cross her face. For some reason, that pleased him.

“First, thank you for such generosity.” He tapped his index finger on the check before sliding it across the desk back to her.

She frowned but said nothing.

“But I can’t accept that, because saving your life twenty years ago had nothing to do with reward or compensation. It was a spontaneous, impulsive act on my part. Anyone would have done the same thing.”

She shook her head. “Not true. None of those kids even tried to stop what was happening before I fell onto the tracks.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Matt said, “but from what I see, the incident hasn’t stopped you from making a success of your life.”

At that, she flushed. Biting her lower lip, she looked down into her lap. The reaction startled him. Had he hit a nerve?

Later, he would tell himself that this was the moment his bizarre idea came to mind.

When she finally spoke, his idea solidified. “Then take it as a donation to a good cause. It’s a win for both of us. You get some funding and I get a tax deduction.” She flashed a smile.

The triumph in her voice irked. As much as he appreciated donations from people or companies, Matt had always felt a prickle of resentment at the ease of dismissing society’s troubles with a check. There were thousands of selfless, hardworking volunteers in the city who gave their time without the need for recognition. And while any community agency needed both volunteers and donors, the realization that the sad, scared teenager he’d hoisted off the tracks years ago came from the group he’d never felt comfortable around was disappointing. So Matt stuck with his game plan.

“I have another idea,” he began, “one that could end up being win-win but in a different way.”

“Oh?”

Matt smiled. He would see how long that interest lasted. “Later this month we’re opening up Camp Hope for another season. It’s a project we got funding for two years ago, a camp near Maple Lake, outside Willow Springs.” Her puzzled expression told him she hadn’t a clue about either of those places. “Last year we ran it as a day camp, busing kids from here to experience a bit of nature and life outside the city. The kids loved it so much we decided to try running a sleepover camp this year. There was already one sleeping cabin on the property and we had enough money to renovate it last fall. We’re in the process of building a second cabin, which should be finished soon.” He didn’t add that her check would have paid off the loan for that cabin.

“Okay,” she said, clearly unsure where he was heading.

“The place won’t start up officially until late June but we’re hoping to iron out any kinks in the schedule and planning by opening a few weekends beforehand. The first batch of kids is due the last weekend of this month.”

“Well, good luck with all that.” She glanced pointedly at the check in front of her.

“Even with the city’s budget cuts, we can make our opening date.” Barely, he added to himself. “But we’re still short manpower.”

“You could hire people.”

Always back to money, Matt thought. No problem there. I’ll just write a check. His laugh was harsh. “Yeah, but the budget won’t cover extra manpower. It’s hard to get volunteers to come for overnights. They have families, too, and a lot of them struggle just like the families of our kids.” She had no idea, he thought, how most people in this city—in this neighborhood—lived.

He noticed from the rising color in her face that she was beginning to clue into what he was about to ask, and she started shaking her head, ever so slightly, while he continued.

“If you really want to pay me back, how about giving Camp Hope some of your time?” The redness in her face egged him on well past his original idea. “How about giving us a few weekends as a volunteer instead...day and night.” He took some pleasure in stressing that last word.

She was momentarily speechless but when she did reply, her voice was strained. “That’s absurd. I have a very demanding job that often requires work on weekends. I can’t just make a promise like that, even if I wanted to. This is the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard! I...I...”

Matt wanted to smile at her indignation. Whatever her job was, it obviously paid well. He had known she’d refuse but he hadn’t been able to resist. He also knew some small part of the old Mateo Rodriguez was surfacing. The one that took delight in making people like her uncomfortable.

Still, when she stood up, grabbing her briefcase in one hand and slinging her purse over her shoulder, he was disappointed. She wasn’t up to the challenge he’d given her. Even more, he’d lost any chance at finding out more about her.

She left without another word or a backward glance.

Matt shook his head, unsure if he’d lost or won that round, and stared at the check where she’d left it.

* * *

DANA SIGNED OUT of her online bank account and drummed her fingertips on her desk. It had been a week and he still hadn’t cashed the check. Matt Rodriguez was one stubborn man. And not very grateful either. Wouldn’t someone in his line of work be thrilled to receive a donation like that? Yet he’d seemed offended. How could anyone who depended on handouts have that kind of pride? She didn’t get it.

The meeting she’d thought about off and on for the past twenty years had been a letdown. She’d been naive to think that they’d have some special bond that would magically eliminate the years and differences between them. That day, she’d sensed the person who’d lifted her up off the tracks had been a teenager, too, though a bit older and more physically fit than any of the teen boys she knew. Her memory was likely playing tricks on her though, because she knew that everything had happened far too quickly for her to catch more about him than his strength, and a glimpse of his face and his dark, anxious eyes. Before he’d turned and walked away, those eyes had become reassuring, as if he were saying, Okay, you’re safe now.

But the man she met a week ago had been...well...a man. Her memories of bursting into his office came back like a collage of images, much like her memories of that day. His black T-shirt with KidsFirst imprinted on it, muscled arms colored with tattoos and especially, those inky black eyes filled with surprise at her unexpected entrance. She knew immediately from those eyes that he was the one.

Yet the meeting hadn’t followed the script she’d imagined all those years. She hadn’t expected him to leap up and wrap his arms around her in a welcoming hug. Nor would she have wanted that. But perhaps he might have been a bit more excited to see her? Instead he’d wanted to show her around the shabby, generic place. It had looked like any community center, not that she’d ever been in one.

And he’d been the biggest disappointment. Matt Rodriguez. Refusing to take her check, when the center clearly could have used the money, had stemmed from either pride or stubbornness. Maybe both. She’d left the office feeling she’d been dismissed like a naughty child. It was unlikely she’d ever see him again, but she couldn’t help thinking she’d love the chance to tell him exactly what she’d thought of his cold welcome.

She looked up at the knock on her office door as her father breezed in. “Hi, kiddo! Got a minute?” Without waiting for her answer, he closed the door behind him and perched on the armchair opposite her desk.

“Not really,” she muttered.

He ignored her, as she knew he would. “You’ve heard that Addison is now demanding more money for the deal, based on the latest stock report. I’d like you to handle the next round of negotiations.”

“I’ve handed it over to Ken.”

Brent Sothern waved a dismissive hand. “Come on! You’ve been involved from the get-go.”

“Ken is perfectly competent and able to handle this new round.”

“Harold asked for you. He’s not that keen on Patel.”

Right. Because he’s a man. “I’m too busy, Dad. I’m finishing the paperwork on the Evergreen Health Foods merger.”

“Okay, when you’ve done that. Or at least work with Patel on it,” he pressed.

Dana stared at her tall, silver-haired father and wished, for the umpteenth time, that he’d find a life for himself outside Sothern and Davis. His former partner, Chuck Davis, collapsed on a golf course six months after he’d finally retired and was now in a nursing home. Ann, her father’s longtime companion, had been running a “retire or at least cut back” campaign for a year.

Dana knew from experience he wouldn’t back down until she agreed or at least compromised with him, mostly to his benefit. That was his style and she’d lived with it her whole life, except when she managed to go to college out of state. Even then he’d emailed daily. Brent simply had to have his way.

She refused to drop her gaze, meeting his confident smile and hoping the heat in her face and the tremor in her hands wouldn’t reveal themselves. The telltale signs of childhood and adolescent anxiety emerged whenever she battled with her father. She stood her ground as long as she could and as always, her resolve weakened at his pleading expression.

“I’ve booked some time off and made plans,” she said impulsively. “They can’t be changed. So, Ken will have to work Mega Corps alone.”

“Time off?”

The incredulity in his voice made her smile. But when he asked, “What plans?” she remembered she had none.

Then Matt’s wildly ridiculous suggestion came to her. She stared down at her cell phone, thinking suddenly of that uncashed check and Matt Rodriguez’s smug smile when he’d pitched his absurd volunteering idea. He hadn’t expected her to say yes and probably thought she’d be a complete failure at camp life. Well, she’d prove him wrong.

“Dad, I haven’t had a real vacation in more than a year. I’m owed one and I’m due for one.”

His frown deepened. “Is everything all right?”

Dana smiled. This, too, had always been part of the pattern. She knew his need for control and his overprotective tendency stemmed from love. There’d only been the two of them since her mother’s death. “I’m fine. Just looking forward to a break.”

“How much time off?”

She hesitated, sensing she might win this round after all. “At least two weeks. Maybe more.”

“Where are you going? What are the plans?”

She didn’t need to lie. “Not too sure of the plans yet but I’m thinking the countryside. A change of pace.”

“So go to the chalet. I’ll arrange for it to be opened up.”

“Thanks, Dad, but no. I’m thinking more of a...a road trip. Just setting out and stopping here and there at little out-of-the-way places.”

He shook his head. “I’m not liking the sound of that. At least—”

“I’ve decided, Dad.” She fixed her eyes on his, and at his slight frown, followed by an audible sigh, Dana knew she’d successfully avoided finishing up the Mega Corps buyout. He left the room without another pitch and she let out a long, slow breath.

Later, she’d look back at this moment and question not only her reasoning but her emotional state. But for now, Dana knew there was one way to get out of town.

CHAPTER THREE

MATT WAS GETTING into his car when Rosie called out, “You forgot your stew!”

He’d forgotten on purpose, knowing he still had a container of pasta in the fridge from three days ago. He’d given up trying to get Esperanza to stop sending food home with him. He knew it was an act of love—and also that she still thought of him as the struggling college student, as he’d been after his discharge from the army.

“You can’t fool me as easily as you can Ma,” she said when he joined her on the porch and took the Tupperware from her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right.” She playfully punched his upper arm. As he turned to go, she added, “I noticed at dinner that you seemed distracted. Have you been thinking about her?”

“Her?”

“Mom. Who did you think I was talking about?”

Matt was tempted to say Dana Sothern, the woman who had been in his head for the past week. But he’d never told anyone about that day, not even his family. At the time, it would have involved unwanted questioning. What were you doing there, on the Green Line? Why weren’t you at your after-school job? Later, the day simply became something he wanted to put behind him.

“Mom, of course. When’s her next appointment with the oncologist again?”

“Next Monday.”

A week away. “I’ll come, too.”

“She doesn’t expect you to. She knows you’re busy organizing the first group of kids for the camp this weekend.”

“I’m coming.” Matt knew she wouldn’t argue too much. She was aware that her big brother never changed his mind once it was made up.

“Okay,” she finally said. “See you maybe later in the week. If not, for sure next Monday.” Then she clutched his arm as he started to go. “Matt, I meant it when I said I’d like to do a few sessions with the kids. I’ve been working on an idea and I can email you an outline.”

At dinner, Rosie had pitched an introduction on internet use and privacy issues as a lead-in, followed by lessons on game development.

Rosie had been working at a video game start-up for the past three years, since her college graduation. She was good at game development and getting better. She and her team had recently secured a publisher for a game they’d developed that was promising to be a hit. But getting her back and forth to Camp Hope would be problematic if she had a relapse.

“Just think about it, Matt. Please. I’m in remission now and I feel good.”

He felt bad at her pleading tone and softened his voice. “I’ll think about it. Maybe we can try having a class at the center first. See what the interest is and how it goes.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Sure,” she mumbled.

He knew she was disappointed. Rosie had been excited about Camp Hope from the beginning and wanted to be a part of it. “We’ll work something out.”

He kissed her cheek and headed for his car. By the time he was behind the wheel, she’d already gone back inside. He let the car idle for a while, thinking about the opening of Camp Hope the coming Saturday, Rosie’s plea to help out and most of all, his mother’s next appointment, when her doctor would outline a treatment plan. Little wonder he’d hardly slept the past week. Worse, Dana Sothern’s face kept popping into his head at random moments. He had serious problems to worry about, so why was he so preoccupied with a woman he’d likely never see again?

Thoughts of Dana reminded him of her check. It would cover some of the shortfall and if she could casually dash off an amount like that, she clearly had means. Of course, there was his challenge to her—one he regretted now. He’d made it out of pride, resenting her self-satisfied expression when she’d passed the donation across his desk. He should have just taken that money. Now he would have to swallow some of that pride and deposit that check.

He shifted into gear and headed home. His apartment was a few blocks away from the center. He’d taken the rental months after opening KidsFirst, figuring he ought to live in the same area as the kids he served. The move had been a return to his old stomping grounds on the South Side where his family had lived until he was ten. Matt knew now that his parents had been worried about negative influences in the neighborhood, so he had found an apartment in Pilsen, which had been gentrifying. But Matt and his buddies from the South Side had stayed friends—the good ones, like Sandro, and the not so good, like Lenny.

Matt tucked the ugly memory away. The elevator was out of order again and he was grateful for the walk up to the sixth floor after the big meal at his mother’s. He stowed the stew next to the pasta and checked his voice mail. His mother had set ground rules about cell phone use at meals long ago, but he’d automatically reached for it enough times during supper to draw snorted laughter from Rosie and frowns from Esperanza.

First, there was Sandro, confirming the delivery of the bunk beds and linens the next day. I’ll meet you at the camp at about ten. Got an appointment in the city. But the delivery guys will move the stuff into the cabins, so you won’t have to bother about that. Oh, and the window people are coming back day after tomorrow to fix the screens in the old cabin. They’re coming in the morning and I can be there, but you have a meeting in the afternoon with the kitchen staff. The cook’s got her menus all worked out.

Matt saved the message, knowing he’d have to replay it later for his notes.

Kristen was next, telling him the center’s new youth worker could start on Wednesday. And just a reminder of the board meeting Thursday night. Bad timing, I know, coming before the first weekend at the camp. But you need to be there.

This month’s board meeting was a big one, as they’d be discussing not only the budget cut from the city but the presentation to the Willow Springs town council regarding the lease.

The last message puzzled him. The number wasn’t familiar and, at first, neither was the voice. But the vocal style was a dead giveaway.

Not sure if this is your work number or a personal one, so apologies if I’m bothering you at home.

Before the end of the first sentence—uttered without a word of introduction—Matt knew the caller had to be Dana Sothern. Must be something about her check. Wanting to know why he hadn’t cashed it.

I noticed you haven’t cashed my check.

Aha.

And...um...if your suggestion is still on the table, I do have some time off work right now. Give me a call.

Matt stared in disbelief at his phone. So, she was taking him up on his challenge. That meant the check would have to stay in his desk for now. He called the number on his screen right away. She took long enough to answer that he considered disconnecting but eventually, that unfamiliar but melodic voice said, “Matt?”

“Yeah. I got your message.” He stopped there, letting her take the lead.

“So, I have time off work and can help out in some way at the camp.”

She seemed to want him to draw it out of her, even though she’d called him. But he waited long enough for her to add, “Unless you’d prefer to cash my check instead.”

Was nothing easy with this woman? Was it a yes or a no? “Look, Ms. Sothern. I suggested you help us out in lieu of donating money and you left without any discussion about that. Then you call to say you’ve got time after all. Now you’re asking me if I want to cash the check instead.” He paused, waiting for his blood pressure to ease. “I’m getting a lot of mixed messages here. What do you want to do?”

He heard the sigh and waited a moment longer for the answer. “I’m willing to help out a bit.”

“Okay. How long?”

“Um...one weekend?”

“Not worth your trouble, Ms. Sothern, nor mine, considering the police check I’ll have to initiate for you and some orientation. How about three?”

Another silence. “Two?”

Matt couldn’t believe it. They were negotiating how long she’d volunteer at the camp? Clearly, she had no concept of what the term volunteer actually meant. “Fine. Meet me at KidsFirst Wednesday afternoon and we’ll go over details.”

“I can’t do Wednesday. How about Thursday?”

He gritted his teeth. “Great. Come in the morning. Eight o’clock.”

She sounded taken aback, saying, “Eight?”

“Yes, eight, because I have to get out to the camp early and you can drive with me. There’s a camp staff meeting Friday morning that I hope you can attend because it’s mainly the only orientation I have time to give you. This first weekend is a short one, with the kids coming Saturday morning instead of Friday.”

“Okay. Shall I—”

“See you at eight,” he interrupted and disconnected before she could try to bargain further. Now he wished he hadn’t issued his challenge. Or been so prideful about cashing the check. He had a feeling Dana Sothern was going to be a whole lot more trouble than help to him and to Camp Hope.

* * *

THE DOOR WAS LOCKED, and Dana swore under her breath as the taxi rolled away. She glanced nervously up and down the street in front of KidsFirst, relieved to see a couple of people walking toward the bus stop at the end of the block. So much for my plan to get on the good side of Matt Rodriguez—if he even has one—by arriving early.

She thought about calling him but decided against taking her cell phone out of her pocket—not in this neighborhood—and began to pace, sipping on the latte she’d picked up on the way. Dana knew she needed to calm down, but Monday night’s phone call still bugged her. The way he’d hung up on her simply because she’d been taken aback by the eight o’clock meeting. The time was irrelevant. She was always at the office by eight, had been for years. Then there was the pointless bickering about how long she’d be volunteering. You’d think from his manner that he was doing her a favor. She’d had to work overtime the last two nights to finish the paperwork on the health-food-chain merger.

She checked her watch again and decided she’d give him five more minutes. If he didn’t show, at least she’d have the rare opportunity to indulge in a day off. Go shopping, have lunch at that new place near her condo in Lincoln Park. She could even call Jason, see if he was free. No. Not a good idea. That’s over. Her latte was almost finished and she’d allotted him an extra five minutes when a beat-up station wagon rumbled to a stop in front of her.

Dana bent to see if the driver was Matt just as the passenger-side window rolled down.

“Hop in,” he said, leaning over to pick up an empty coffee tray from the passenger-side floor. He tossed it into the back and watched as she climbed in, tucking her daypack between her legs.

“You can put that behind you if you want.”

She took another peek behind her. “No, it’s okay.”

“Uh, do you have other shoes with you?”

Dana peered down at her ankle-high leather boots with their short, sturdy heels, the perfect accessory to her black skinny jeans. She decided not to be offended by his assumption that she couldn’t figure out what to wear to a camp. “I’ve got sneakers in my pack,” she said, depositing her coffee cup in the holder and fastening her seat belt.

“Great, because the grounds might be muddy from the rain we’ve had.”

Dana looked at him. “I can do mud.”

He seemed about to say more but then nodded as he shifted the car into gear and drove away from the center. He was quiet while he navigated rush-hour traffic, which suited Dana. Other than getting information from him about the tasks he expected her to do, what else could they talk about? Yet as soon as the thought popped up, she realized they had one very obvious topic of conversation. That day. For some reason, he never brought it up.

As they left the city behind, Dana asked, “Where is this camp again?”

“Outside a town called Willow Springs. On Maple Lake. Not far. Maybe half an hour if traffic is good.”

Dana had never heard of either place but then, except for business, she seldom ventured outside Chicago. “Tell me how you got involved with it. The news article I read was mainly about the drop-in center.”

There was a softening in his eyes as he glanced quickly her way. “The idea for the camp came up about four years ago. We were having a meeting at KidsFirst and one of our counselors mentioned she’d been talking to a kid about a nature hike she’d recently made. This boy asked if she’d been scared going through the woods. His only concept of woods or forests—nature itself—was from horror movies and TV shows. Not only had he never seen a forest, he’d never even visited the big parks right here in Chicago. We liked the idea of taking the kids into the country on day trips and had been talking about it for some time. So we brainstormed and searched for possible locations. One of the team learned about an old campsite near Maple Lake. We found out the property was for lease, went to look at it and then began fund-raising.”

“And this happened four years ago?”

“Yeah. It took us a year to raise the money, then two more to negotiate the deal, get permits, get the buildings up to par and so on. Of course, we relied on grants and donations for all that. We finally opened last year but only used it as a day camp, starting at three days a week and working up to five. By the end of the summer, the kids were begging for sleepovers.”

His smile, along with the warmth in his voice, said it all. Dana couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt a similar enthusiasm. Maybe when Jason had surprised her with the trip to Paris—the one she’d canceled at the last minute because of a problem at work.

“Who owns the property?”

“The town of Willow Springs. An eccentric couple ran the place for years and when they died, their estate put the camp up for sale. The buildings themselves weren’t worth much but the land is adjacent to the Maple Lake Forest Preserve, owned by Cook County. The town bought the camp, intending to turn it back into parkland, but that plan got stalled. They decided to lease it to us in the meantime.”

“This isn’t a permanent situation, then.”

He turned briefly to look at her and sighed, “No, and that’s the problem. Our lease runs out at the end of June and we’re in the middle of putting together a presentation for an extension of five years.”

“Couldn’t you fund-raise to buy the property outright?”

“Ha! If only life were that simple.”

The exasperation in his voice prompted Dana to reconsider what she’d been about to say—that it seemed like a simple solution to her. Everything in life boiled down to money as far as she knew. Having it or wanting it. After a moment she said, “Sometimes life can be simple. Getting what you want is all in the approach.”

His answer was a loud exhale. As if she didn’t have a clue. But Dana knew otherwise. She’d learned the hard way how to camouflage emotion to get what she needed. She’d honed that skill over twenty years, starting from the day Matt Rodriguez put his own life at risk for her.

The hands gripping the steering wheel were, for all those years, what she remembered most about him. Along with his dark, almost black, eyes. When he’d hoisted her onto the platform and climbed up after her, his eyes had signaled a compassion that she hadn’t felt from another human being in years. Not since her mom died.

Her gaze followed up from those hands to his forearms and the tattoos on his olive-toned skin. The right one, nearest to her, was a dragon and the left seemed to be a tree. Dana sighed. At least there was no large MOM inscribed in a heart. She wondered when and why he’d gotten them but hesitated to ask.

He was wearing a plain black T-shirt today, snug fitting in a pleasing way. His profile was strong, his jaw set with determination. He was definitely an attractive man and Dana wondered if he was attached to anyone. Maybe Kristen, the woman at the center who’d seemed so protective of him. For some reason, that bothered her. Not that she had any claim on Matt Rodriguez.

Deciding to set her curiosity to rest, she asked, “So, what have you been doing the past twenty years?”

The car swerved as he abruptly looked her way. She smiled at the surprise in his face.

“Um, well...” He turned his attention back to the road ahead but finally finished his sentence. “I spent eight years in the army after high school.”

Army. That explained some things. “Afghanistan?”

“Iraq. Two tours then I was discharged. Went to college and got a youth worker diploma. I worked in construction for a while before and after that.”

“Not so many jobs in your field?”

“Hard to get a foot in the door. If you’re not with the city, you have to line up for jobs with nonprofits. I finally got my break with a city community center. Worked my way up to running the place and realized the city needed something more just for kids in the South Side. I had a lot of contacts by then and had figured out the system enough to start lobbying for KidsFirst.”

“It’s your baby.”

He looked over at her. “For sure.”

Dana wished she could be as emphatic describing her own job.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

He grinned. “Of course, you. What’ve you been doing these past twenty years?”

She hardly knew where to start. Because looking back was painful? Or because all those years now seemed so repetitive? An endless rollover of sameness, day after day.

“Well, I’m a lawyer.”

“No kidding!”

If only she could be as enthused about it.

“So how did your life go,” he suddenly asked, “afterward?”

Dana doubted her own story was as satisfying as his. She recalled his comment when she’d gone to the drop-in, that she’d made a success of her life. It depended on how you defined success. She was gazing out the window, searching for a way out of answering, when she spotted a highway sign that said Welcome to Willow Springs.

“I guess we’re almost there,” she said.

CHAPTER FOUR

TURNING OFF THE highway onto the gravel road leading to the camp, Matt was all too aware of Dana’s silence. He stared at the buildings ahead, seeing for the first time how run-down they were, except for the new sleeping cabin. He could imagine what she was thinking as they surveyed the grassy expanse leading up to the lodge and the trees scattered around it that were more of an afterthought than a real woods.

“Where’s the lake?” she asked.

“It’s behind that hill the main lodge sits on.” It was more of a knoll than a hill though. Funny how he was suddenly noticing these things. “It’s about a ten-minute walk from here. I can see part of it from my office in the lodge.”

She looked where he pointed but didn’t say anything. If she’d ever been to a camp, it likely hadn’t looked like Camp Hope. But he was curious. “Did you go to camp when you were a kid?”

Her gaze shifted back to him. “When I was twelve. For six miserable weeks.” She gave a half smile.

“I guess it was a bit more upscale than this.”

“The buildings were different—logs and stones—but it was in the middle of the wilderness. At least, it might as well have been.” She turned to the window, lost in thought for a moment. “My father sent me because he wanted to toughen me up.”

“Did you?”

She snorted. “Quite the opposite.”

He wished there were time to explore that comment but guessed from the way she stared out her window that the talk was finished. He pulled up next to Sandro’s car in the small graveled area adjacent to the lodge. No sign of Maria’s car, Matt noted. Maybe she was coming in later.

“Okay,” Matt said. “Shall we have a quick tour before I put you to work?” He was teasing, but she didn’t pick up on it, unsnapping her seat belt and reaching down for her backpack as he got out of the car. It was going to be a long day, he thought.

Just then the front door of the lodge swung open. “Hey, Matt, you got here in good time for a...” Sandro faltered, taking in Dana as she climbed out of the car “...change.”

“Yeah, traffic was okay. Sandro, this is Dana Sothern. Dana, Sandro Garcia.”

The two nodded at one another. “Dana’s going to be helping out for a couple of weeks.”

“Helping out?” Sandro looked sharply at Dana, clearly taking in her designer boots and jeans. “Here?”

Matt caught the tone, and from the slight flush in her face, Dana did, too. Only days ago, he and Sandro had carefully gone over the staffing schedule for the camp’s dry-run weekends. That was before Dana’s call, so Matt hadn’t included her. “I’m going to give her a quick tour first. Maybe she can make up the beds in the cabins?”

Sandro shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you think.”

“Is Maria coming in today?”

“No. Her son’s sick so she may not make it tomorrow either. She’ll let us know later today.”

“Okay. By the way, Kristen is expecting us at about four o’clock to get ready for the board meeting.”

“Right. Well then, I’ll go rustle up the bedding stuff.” He nodded briefly at Dana and headed toward the two cabins on the far right of the lodge.

Matt looked at Dana. “Maria’s kind of an office manager. She does a lot of our administrative work part-time,” he explained. When she simply nodded, he said, “Guess we might as well start with the lodge, then.”

“Sure.”

Matt hadn’t expected enthusiasm, but mild interest would have been nice. He led the way inside, hoping the visual impact of what they called the Big Room might rouse something in her.

“As you can see, this entryway is really part of a hall that runs all along the front of the lodge. That side on the left leads to our offices and the staff washroom. To your right is the coat area.”

She looked at the rows of hooks and racks for boots and shoes without comment.

“The hall on that side continues to the staircase leading to the second story.”

“What’s up there?”

“Five bedrooms and two bathrooms. The staff who aren’t supervising in the kids’ cabins share a room, and I get my own, since staff shift around a bit but I’m always here.” He stopped, feeling a bit unsettled by her passive gaze.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Okay, and straight ahead is what we call the Big Room.” He turned around and walked ahead into the main part of the lodge. The central wood-paneled room with its massive stone fireplace flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows never failed to stir his pride. They’d all worked hard to make this room special. The Big Room always drew gasps of wonder from the kids, with its sprawling couches, chairs and cushions. Matt knew the room was bigger than some of the apartments the kids lived in.

Dana walked into the center, slowly taking it all in. “Nice. Did this furniture come with the place?”

“A lot of it was donated but we did find some bargains at thrift shops.” There was a slight twitch of her nose at that and Matt felt his face heat up. Sure, some of the pieces were obviously well used, but personally he thought they added to the charm of the room.

“Some of it was left behind,” he went on, determined to ignore her lack of interest, “like that sideboard on the far wall.” He pointed. “The door next to the sideboard leads to the dining hall and the kitchen is just off that. There’s a Ping-Pong table over there in the far corner.”

She followed his gesture with her eyes, then turned to face the opposite end of the room. “Is that a reading area?”

“Yeah. We call it the library. Those bookshelves made that section a done deal when we reconfigured the room. Much of this space had already been set up for multipurpose use.”

“How did the previous owners use this place?”

“I think it was a very large summer home for someone originally, but I heard that the couple who willed it to the town set it up as a lodge.”

“People came here for a vacation?”

Clearly not her kind of getaway place, Matt thought. “It’s smaller than most vacation lodges but yes. The offices down here were also used as bedrooms, I believe. Plus, there was one sleeping cabin and the outdoor washroom buildings.”

“So, people didn’t have their own bathrooms.”

“It was an affordable place for families. Everyone needs an escape from the big city in the summer,” he said, seeing her flush as she picked up on his implied gibe. “The tables across from the library are for quiet time or rainy-day activities. People have donated a number of board games and jigsaw puzzles.”

She gave it a cursory glance before saying, “The offices. Are they for all the staff?”

“Basically. Kristen, Sandro and I share the largest one. Then there’s one that the rest of the staff can use. It’s got a couple of desks, two computers and a landline. Maria uses it as her office, but anyone can check email on the second computer.”

“Though people probably use their cell phones. What’s the reception like here?”

“It’s good. We’re not far from the town, but we don’t have Wi-Fi. Besides those two rooms, we also have one we call the sick room.”

“Do you have medical personnel on staff?”

“Unfortunately, the budget doesn’t extend that far. We do have a board member who’s also a nurse practitioner and she’s available for a few hours when the camp is running through the summer.”

“What kind of liability insurance do you have?”

This was the lawyer speaking now, Matt thought. “We’re covered—don’t worry.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow that he ignored.

“Okay, well, let’s put your backpack in my office and then we’ll check out the cabins and the grounds. You can change your shoes, too,” he added, hiding a quick smile.

By the time they’d made it to the new sleeping cabin, Matt guessed that Dana might bow out of her offer to help. If so, he’d go with his plan B and have the new worker at KidsFirst take over for Dana on the weekend. But he didn’t feel like letting her off the hook just yet.

Her smile when she took in the freshly painted girls’ cabin with its new windows and screens was refreshing, but it disappeared when he showed her the broom-closet-sized room that would be hers.

“Not much storage space,” she commented, staring bleakly at the two-drawer chest between the two cots.

Matt laughed, “You’ll only be here on weekends, Dana. And as I told you, this weekend is a short one. Just Saturday night, so you’ll be supervising on your own. Plus, there’ll be fewer girls.”

“I was thinking of the two people who’d be in here all summer,” she snapped.

He wanted to tell her that wasn’t her concern but had to admit she had a point. He surveyed the room. Maybe there’d be just enough space for one of those DIY wardrobe kits. “Well...I’ll get Maria to check into that.”

As irritating as her observations were, Matt knew he and the team hadn’t worked out much in the way of staffing for the summer. Then the cabins, each with a full complement of twenty kids, would need two night supervisors. The problem was, now that the town was reviewing the lease agreement, things were up in the air. It was a stressful situation, but Matt knew he needed to be patient.

“Shall we walk down to the lake, or would you rather do that after you’ve made up the beds?”

Dana glanced at the stack of clean linens on one of the new bunk beds. “A walk would be nice.”

Matt figured he could do that job himself if necessary. He paused outside the cabin, inhaling deeply.

“The air is different out here, isn’t it?” Dana said as she came up beside him.

He took another deep breath. “It is.” He waited a moment, then said, “I’ll show you the other cabins.”

He led the way to two other wood-frame buildings. “These were built a few years after the couple who owned the place bought it, so they’re at the top of our list of necessary repairs.” He thought he saw a slight shiver as she eyed them. “They’re not too bad inside. The newer cabin we were just in was for the girls, and that one there is for the boys. The washroom cabin behind them is divided into girls’ and boys’ sides. All the necessary conveniences but just—”

“Outside.”

“Well, it is a camp,” he pointed out.

“Shall we get to the lake?”

“Fine. Let’s get to the lake.” And get the day over with. He strode ahead, circled behind the lodge, trotted down the slope and stopped at the graveled edge of Maple Lake. The still, glistening water helped calm him. You can end this right now, he told himself. It was a dumb idea. Accept that and get on with things.

He waited for her to catch her breath when she caught up to him. “I was going to say that you don’t owe me anything,” he began, “because, to be honest, this whole idea of your helping out here was impulsive. I never really expected you to take me up on it and there’s no shame in simply telling me you’d rather not do this. We can call it a day right now and I’ll drive you back to the city. Okay?”

A band of red rose up from the base of her throat into her face. She turned away, but not before he saw her swallow hard, tightening her jaw and blinking. Matt bent down to pick up a couple of smooth pebbles and skimmed one across the water. He figured he ought to have told her all that earlier, on the way to the camp. But then he’d still had some hope that she’d rise to his challenge.

“That day,” she finally said, her voice settling into a steady coolness, “I was on my way to Oak Park to see our old house. The one I lived in until my mother died.”

Matt dropped the second stone.

“I’d just transferred to a new school and...and things weren’t going well. It was the third school in a year and my father... Well...he was running out of patience. There’d been an incident that morning. Some girls were spreading stories about me. I’d planned to confront them and tell them how mean they were. But one of them started to laugh and I cried instead.”

The naked emotion in her face made him look away. He suddenly thought of Rosie and the trouble she’d had at school years ago, when she’d been newly diagnosed.

“So I left school at lunchtime and wandered around the neighborhood for a bit. I couldn’t go home because I knew our housekeeper would ask a lot of questions that I didn’t feel like answering. Then I had the idea of going out to Oak Park to visit the place where I had been happy...” Her voice drifted off.

If she’d been a friend, Matt would have hugged her. But he knew that she needed to tell her story and that he wanted to hear it.

“Anyway, I didn’t know any of those kids on the platform. But when I was going through the turnstile, I accidentally stepped on a girl’s foot. I tried to apologize, but she kept yelling that I was disrespectful.”

“Showing off for her friends,” Matt put in.

“I guess.” Dana looked his way. “I thought if I just ignored her, she’d figure out I was no threat and leave me alone. But when I got down to the platform, she gave me a hard push.”

“She couldn’t afford to lose face with her buddies.”

“I can see you know teenagers.”

“Well, I was one myself once.”

“But not like those kids.”

Matt stared out across the lake. Maybe not quite like them.

“Anyway, you know the rest of that story. But the whole way home, I was thinking about what happened and especially about what might have happened,” she went on.

You and me both.

“I decided I was never going to let myself be bullied again, even if it meant I was doomed to be a complete loner at school. And I was for the rest of my high school years. I made myself toughen up. I finally did just what my father had been wanting me to do.”

Now he really wanted to hug her, but instead he said, “I didn’t mean to sound angry back there. I’m a bit sensitive when it comes to Camp Hope. It was my dream for a long time and now that I’ve finally managed to make it happen...well...hearing anything that seems like skepticism makes me overreact sometimes.” He paused, watching her take this in, then added, “But seriously, I’m letting you off the hook.”

“No. What I’m trying to say is that I know sometimes I can be... That...sometimes I come across as...”

“Dana,” he said, reaching out for her hand, “be kind to yourself. You had an awful experience—a life-threatening one. You no longer have to prove anything to anyone, least of all me. It’s all right. I’m happy to have met you and... Well...I can take you home.”

She shook her head, slipping her hand out of his. “No, Matt. I need to do this. I will rise to the challenge. You’ll see.”

His held her gaze, unable to think of a single thing to say. But he felt a lightness flare briefly inside. “Then I guess we should get back to the cabins...and those bunk beds.”

DANA SANK BENEATH the billowy foam in her bath, leaned against the end of the tub and let out a long sigh. But her fatigue wasn’t physical. Hiking and running had been part of her life since high school. Her father had encouraged a full regimen of athletics, part of his “get tough” campaign. And after that day on the subway, Dana had accepted the challenge with determination.

No, her exhaustion was a result of her inner turmoil, rather than making up twenty-two beds. She wondered who’d be in charge of the boys’ cabin. Matt? She felt an unexpected pleasure at the thought of him mere yards away.

The whole time she was working, she was thinking of him and the way he didn’t interrupt her or dole out meaningless phrases of sympathy. He simply let her talk, and although that day had played like a horrifying video in her head for years, she’d never actually talked about it to anyone. It was fitting that the first person to hear her pathetic story was Matt. His hand wrapped around hers had given her the courage to go on. The strength and reassurance of that grasp stayed with her the rest of the day at Camp Hope.

After she’d made up the beds, he’d helped her sweep, then mop the floors in both cabins. She’d thought he might open up while they were working and tell her something of that day from his perspective, or even about his life afterward. But the talk had been mainly outlining the agenda for the next day’s meeting at the camp. Something was obviously on his mind during the ride back to the city, and he’d fallen into a long silence.

She sat up and rinsed off the puffs of foam on her arms and chest. She’d noticed that Sandro hadn’t been happy about her volunteering, though she couldn’t be certain if his upset had been directed at her or Matt. Not that she cared. Many people made assumptions about her abilities or character merely based on appearance. She understood how and why those opinions were formed. After that day, she’d learned to dismiss those people the way they dismissed her. She didn’t need them in her life anyway.

Matt was different, though she couldn’t explain why. When he was showing her around the camp, she saw that his pride blinded him to the negative aspects she couldn’t help pointing out. Her attempt to help had been interpreted as nit-picking. But for twenty years he’d been her hero and though he obviously drew the same conclusions about her that Sandro had, she needed to prove him wrong.

Rising up, Dana released the tub stopper and reached for the thick white towel draped over the stool next to the vanity. How hard could it be to spend a couple of days with some kids?

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