He added the last with a lilt of an accent that was meant to sound like Vera. Jenna kissed his cheek. “You’re the best boys I know, too. And we might as well order burgers, since you won’t want supper now.”
David’s eyes lit up. He pushed away the empty shake glass and sat down in the chair that he’d been perched on, sitting on his knees to better reach his glass.
“Do you think I could be a pro football player someday? I’d make a lot of money and you could have a big house in, well, somewhere.” Timmy was out of his chair, standing next to it. He didn’t like to sit still, a reality that had caused problems in school last year.
First grade was going to be rough for him, a whole day of sitting still, listening.
“I don’t need a big house and you should only play football if you love it, not because you think I want a big house.” She didn’t think Adam Mackenzie loved the sport. She wondered if he ever had.
She had asked Clint, because her brother had known Adam years ago. Clint said he really couldn’t say. Adam had seemed intent, serious, but he didn’t know if he had loved it.
Vera returned with their fries. “What else, kiddos?”
“Go ahead and bring us three burgers, Vera. We’ll let you cook for us tonight.”
Vera was all smiles. “You got it, sweetie. Three Vera specials coming up.”
The door opened, letting in heat and sounds from outside—a train in the distance and cars driving down Main Street. Vera’s eyes widened. Jenna glanced back, over her shoulder and suddenly wanted to get her order to go.
“Jenna Cameron, imagine seeing you here.” Adam stood next to Jenna’s table, smiling at the two boys because it was easier than smiling at her, easier than waiting for an invitation to join them and easier than dealing with the reality that he wanted to join them.
He told himself it was just pure old loneliness, living at that trailer, not having his normal social life. He was starved for company, that’s all.
“You knew I was here. My truck’s right out front.” She smiled up at him, a mischievous look in eyes that today looked more like caramel than chocolate.
He laughed. “You got me there. I thought I’d swing in for Vera’s meat loaf and I wanted to tell you something.”
“Have a seat.” She pointed to the chair on her left.
He hesitated, but her wide eyes stared up at him, challenging him. He sat down, taking off his hat as he did. He hooked it over the back of the empty chair on the seat next to him.
The boys occupied the two chairs across the table from him. Blond hair, chocolate milk on their chins and suspicious looks in their eyes, they stared at him in something akin to wonder.
“So, what’s your news?” Jenna leaned back in her chair, hands fiddling with the paper that had come off a straw.
“You get your camp.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll be staying, at least through the end of July. My agent thinks I should stay and help get the camp running.” He wouldn’t expand on Will’s words, which had been a little harsher than what he was willing to admit to Jenna. “I called the church that left the message and told them I might be able to get something going in time, or close to it. If they can be flexible.”
Her eyes widened and he could see the smile trembling at the corners of her mouth. “I can help.”
“I thought you might.”
Vera pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen carrying a tray of food and avoiding eye contact with him. Probably because she’d been listening in. At least she didn’t have a camera or an agenda.
Or did she have an agenda? Probably not the one he was used to. More than likely Vera had only one agenda. She had matchmaking on her mind. She had the wrong guy if that was her plan.
“Did I hear someone mention my meat loaf special?” She set down plates with burgers in front of Jenna and the boys and pulled a pen and order pad out of her pocket. “I’ve got that chocolate chess pie you like.”
“No pie tonight. If I don’t start cutting myself back, you’ll have me fifty pounds overweight when I leave Dawson.”
Vera’s brows shifted up. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re still in a hurry to get out of here?”
“Not anymore. I’m going to stay and make sure things are taken care of at the camp.”
Across from him the boys stopped eating their burgers and looked at each other. It was a look that settled somewhere in the pit of his stomach, like a warning siren on a stormy afternoon. Those two boys were up to more than seeing who could get the most ketchup on their fries.
At the moment David was winning. He had a pile of ketchup on top of two fries and he was moving it toward his open mouth. Adam held his breath, watching, wanting the kid to win, and maybe to break into that big grin he kept hidden away.
Just as David started to push the fry into his mouth, the front door to Vera’s opened. David looked up and his fry moved, dropping the ketchup. Everyone at the table groaned, including Adam.
“That isn’t the reaction I normally get when I walk into a restaurant.” The man stepping inside the door was tall, a little balding and thin. The woman behind him smiled, her gaze settling on Jenna.
“No, it’s usually the reaction you get when you tell one of your jokes on Sunday morning,” the woman teased with a wink at Jenna, punctuating the words.
“Pastor Todd, Lori, pull up another table and join us,” Jenna offered a little too quickly and Adam got it. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Adam Mackenzie at her table. He sat back, relishing that fact.
A little.
Until it got to him that she wasn’t thrilled to be sharing a table with him. Jenna cleared her throat and a foot kicked his.
“Excuse me?” He met her sparkling gaze and she nodded to Pastor Todd.
“Could you help him move that table over here, push it up against ours?”
“Oh, of course.” Adam stood up. And he remembered his manners. “I’m sorry, we haven’t met.”
“Pastor Todd Robbins.” Todd held out his hand. “My wife, and obviously better half, Lori.”
“Adam Mackenzie.”
And they acted like they didn’t know who he was. Maybe they didn’t. Not everyone watched football. He reached for the table and helped move it, pushing it into place as Jenna had directed. And Vera still watching, smiling, as if she had orchestrated it all.
“So, what first?” Jenna wiped her fingers on a paper towel she’d pulled off the role in the center of the table.
“What?” Adam looked surprised, like he’d forgotten the camp. She wasn’t going to let him forget.
“The camp. You’ll need beds, mattresses, food…”
He raised his hand, letting out a sigh that moved his massive shoulders. “I don’t know where to start. I don’t see any way this can be done in a matter of days.”
“Weeks.”
He didn’t return her smile. “Yeah, well, my glass of optimism isn’t as full as yours. We have less than two weeks. And then we have kids, lots of them, and they need activities.”
“Not as many as you might think. I think if you talk to their church, they have lessons planned, chapel services, music. You need the beds, window coverings. They’ll bring their own bedding.” She stopped talking because he looked like a man who couldn’t take much more. “Oh, horses.”