Rocky Mountain Miracle

At that moment Dorie appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I thought I heard voices,” she said as she greeted them with a merry wave of her hand from the kitchen. “Come on in. I’m busy putting away all the foodstuffs that have just been delivered.”

“Can we help?”

“Sure.” She looked as happy as a busy bee flitting around a field of clover. “I like to set up the kitchen myself.” She nodded toward the connecting door between the dining room and the activity room. “I think Pat’s been needing some help. Why don’t you gals give a look-see?”

“Okay. We’re here to do whatever needs doing.”

“I’ll let you know when I need an extra pair of hands,” Dorie promised.

They left her happily humming to herself as she filled the freezer, fridge and cupboards. When they entered the recreation room, they saw that the same happy mood did not apply to her husband. Pat O’Toole was sitting on the edge of a raised dais that served as a stage, staring moodily around the room, as he filled his pipe.

“Oh, oh,” murmured Allie. The recreation room was in a sorry state. All but one wall and the ceiling showed ugly watermarks around the windows and on the ceiling. Only one wall had been freshly painted a pretty rose color, and a heap of painting tarps and paint cans pushed to one side were evidence of an interrupted project.

Allie wasn’t sure that Patrick O’Toole really remembered her. Unlike his wife, he had no welcoming smile on his lips nor recognition in his eyes as she introduced herself and Trudy. He just nodded at the introduction, and continued to give his attention to a pipe that he was trying to light.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. O’Toole,” Allie said brightly, ignoring his distant manner. “We’re from the church. Just tell us what you want us to do. We’re here to help.”

He peered at her from under bushy eyebrows. “So you’re the lass that talked Scott into keeping the camp open?”

“Yes, thank God,” she said, relieved that he was speaking to her at least. “We appreciate your offer to handle everything for us.”

“We’ve got some nice kids who are looking forward to coming to Rainbow Camp,” Trudy said.

Patrick shook his head. “Well, ladies, I reckon I forgot how many things were left half-done after Sam’s passing. Look at this room, would you?” He got up and walked around the room, pointing out the unpainted walls and ceiling. “We got all the leaks fixed and were starting to paint when Sam had his spell.” He shook his head sadly, and Allie heard the break in his voice. “It’s a disgrace to his memory to have anybody even see the place like this.”

The two women exchanged glances, and Allie wasn’t surprised when her friend spoke up. “Well then, Mr. O’Toole, I guess we’d better get to painting,” Trudy told him in her take-charge manner. She eyed the ceiling. “A nice tall ladder will do just fine.” In a few minutes she had organized the whole project. Allie knew that she was the one responsible for redecorating all the Sunday school rooms. Trudy could wield a paintbrush roller with the best of them.

The room was rather long and narrow, and even though one of the longer walls had already been done, the challenge of painting the other three and the ceiling kept them busy through the morning.

When Dorie brought in some drinks and sandwiches, they took a brief break for lunch. She nodded her approval. “Sam picked out that color. Said it reminded him of that cluster of moss roses down by the spring.”

Pat sighed. “I was telling him, the color would show hand prints to beat the band, but he didn’t care. Crazy guy.” He turned his head away quickly as if there were something in his eye.

They had to push to finish by late afternoon, but a sense of satisfaction made their effort worthwhile. They took a few minutes to enjoy their work as soft sunlight bathed the walls in a warm glow. It had certainly been satisfying.

“Nice work, ladies,” Patrick said with a smile. “Sure and you’re a credit to the Painters’ Union.” He winked at Trudy. “If I weren’t a married man, I’d be giving you the eye, lass. I’ve got a few rooms at the house that could use your touch.”

They were all weary, but pleased with the job they’d done. Patrick started carrying out empty paint cans, and painting debris to the trash while Allie and Trudy put the room to rights.

“I’ll ask Dorie for some cleaning rags,” Trudy said, and headed for the kitchen.

A moment later, while Allie was putting some lids on some leftover paint cans, Scott came in the rec room. He took one look around at the freshly painted room with an expression of utter disbelief on his face.

Allie stood up, brushed back her hair, suddenly aware of the paint spatters on her arms, jeans and shirt. She looked a mess, but then, what did it matter? She smiled. “Looks nice, doesn’t it?”

For a moment, he looked speechless. Then he swore, “What in blazes! Why on earth did you put in all this work, painting this room?”

She looked at him, stunned and dumbfounded. What was he so angry about?

“Is this some kind of subtle trick you’re playing?” he lashed out.

“Trick?”

“Whatever you’re trying to pull off, it won’t work,” he warred her. “You can’t make me change my mind, Allie.”

“I’m not trying to make you change your mind.”

“Good, because I’ve just made arrangements for this building to be pulled down in three weeks.”

Chapter Three

Scott struggled against a wave of exasperation. He was caught between trying to get things ready for the campers, while at the same time initiating a schedule to level the area and clear the property for potential buyers. Agreeing to open the camp had been a bad idea in the beginning, and it was getting worse by the minute.

Allie looked exhausted, tense and angry with him for challenging the decision to paint the room. On the defensive, he said, “I wished you’d asked me about it before putting in all this work.”

With a determined lift to her head, she replied firmly, “It was important to Pat that we finish the job your father started before he died. Patrick knew Sam wouldn’t want people in here with rain-stained walls even if this is the last time the room is to be used.”

Scott silently fumed. It was just like her and Patrick to bring his father into the matter. They’d made their feelings clear enough, but it was the height of folly for them to spruce up the place. “Well, what’s done is done.”

In a moment of weighted silence that followed, Trudy came in with a broom and cleaning rags, and seeing Scott, started bragging about the job they’d done.

“Are we painters, or are we painters?” she challenged, grinning. “I just may give up my job working in my dad’s restaurant, and find me a new career.”

Her light banter fell flat. Allie’s posture was stiff, and tension radiated from her jutting chin. Scott avoided eye contact with both of the women.

When neither Allie nor Scott returned Trudy’s smile, her expression changed to one of puzzlement. “What gives? Did I miss something?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Allie said. She reached out and took the broom from Trudy, and started sweeping. “As soon as we get this room cleaned up, we ought to check out one of the cabins and get settled. I don’t suppose it matters which one.”

“I think the first cabin is ready. I just checked to make sure you had bedding and firewood,” Scott said crisply. He ignored Allie, who had her back to him as she swept the floor. He recognized a cold shoulder when he got one, and directed his comments to Trudy. “I think everything’s in order for the couple of nights you’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” Trudy answered. “We’ll be ready for a hot bath, won’t we, Allie?” A slight nod was all she got as Allie gave her attention to picking up some drop cloths.

“I’d invite you to put up at the house, but it’s a mess,” Scott said in an apologetic tone. “I’m trying to get everything sorted and moved out. I don’t think Dad threw away anything all the years he’d been here. He’s got so much worthless stuff packed away that I’m tempted to just bag and dump it.”

“That must be a challenge,” Trudy said sympathetically, doing her best to keep the conversation moving along compatible lines. “I’d sure hate to have the job of cleaning out my folk’s house. Every cupboard and closet is packed with stuff.”

“I’ve arranged for some book buyers, and secondhand store people to look things over. What they don’t take, I’ll have to haul away.” Scott wished he could just walk away from the whole thing. Maybe his mother was right. He should have stayed in California and handled everything long distance. Too late now, he chided himself. His hands were tied for another two weeks. He owed it to Pat and Dorie to stick around until the church camp was over.

“I love old stuff,” Trudy told him. Her large brown eyes sparkled. “Can I have a look-see before you get rid of all of it?”

Scott looked surprised. “Sure, be my guest. I have to warn you that most of the stuff is worn-out and wasn’t worth much when it was new.”

“You never can tell,” Trudy said with her usual optimism. “There might be a treasure amidst all the junk.”

“If there is, you’re welcome to it.” He gave one last look around at the newly painted room, and managed to say, “You ladies did a nice job.” Even if it was a stupid thing to do.

After he’d gone, Allie explained the situation to Trudy. “This building is going to be torn down with the rest of the camp in three weeks. Scott couldn’t believe we’d gone to all the work to paint it.” She shook her head, every bone in her body protesting the day of hard labor. “I can’t believe it, either.”

“Hey, some things aren’t suppose to last forever. You just have to enjoy them while you can, and then let them go.” Trudy tipped back her dark head and surveyed the rose-colored walls. “It’s enough that for three more weeks this is going to be the prettiest room in camp.”

Allie smiled at her. “How’d you get so smart?”

“Oh, it just comes naturally,” she answered flippantly. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

As they laughed together, Allie’s spirits rose, and by the time they’d put the activity room in order, she’d felt a new rush of energy. “Let’s move our stuff into the cabin, and see if the shower is working.”

“It’d better be. I’ve got enough rose-colored spots on me to pass for a case of measles.”

“Dorie’s invited us over to their house for supper.” Allie told her. “Their house is on the hillside across from the river. It’s about a half-mile walk up a dirt road as I remember.” Then she added with a smile, “Dorie said something about stuffed pork chops.”

“Stuffed pork chops?” Trudy patted her rather ample hips. “I really shouldn’t, but I’ve worked up an appetite with all this painting and cleaning.” She eyed Allie’s slim figure and sighed. “I bet you could eat twice as much as me, and never put on a pound.”

“I wasn’t raised around good cooking the way you were,” Allie said kindly. Trudy’s folks owned a successful family restaurant, and since she was around food all the time, it was no wonder she had trouble keeping her weight down. “Come on, let’s finish up here, and have a little time to put our feet up before dinner.”

When they checked the first cabin, they saw that Scott had been true to his word. Fresh bedding was in a neat pile at the foot of two of the beds, clean towels in the bathroom and an automatic coffeepot ready to be plugged in. An electric wall heater had been turned on low, but what surprised them both was wood laid for a fire in the fireplace, just waiting for the touch of a match.

“I love a log fire,” said Trudy as she plopped down on a rug, and lit the log kindling. When it was glowing, she stretched out full length in front of the fire, and closed her eyes. “I may have to change my mind about that guy.” She opened one eye and peered at Allie. “Maybe you should give him a little slack.”

“He’s got all the slack he needs,” Allie answered crisply as she got ready to take a shower.

“Hmm, sounds like there still may be a spark or two left between the two of you.”

Allie answered evenly, “Don’t try to play Cupid, Trudy. I don’t even know this changed Scott Davidson, and we have absolutely nothing in common anymore. After the church camp, we probably will never see each other again.” She gave a wry smile. “Of course, I may wring his neck long before then.”

“Uh-huh,” Trudy murmured. “You remember the old saying, don’t you? Where there’s smoke there’s fire. Something between you two is still burning, I’m thinking.”

“Well, think again,” Allie said curtly and went into the bathroom to take her shower. She was still fuming about the way Scott had lashed out at her. He was so blinded by his own selfish agenda that he couldn’t even appreciate Patrick’s feelings about the half-finished job Scott’s dad had left. Allie usually was able to keep a firm rein on her temper, but she was ready to hold a mirror up to Scott Davidson, and let him take a look at the self-centered person he’d become.

When they were ready to go to dinner at the O’Tooles’, Allie expected to drive the short distance, but Trudy said she’d better work off the pork chops before and after she ate them.

A lavender twilight was just settling in the canyon as heady pine-scented breezes still warm from the day’s sun sent pale green aspen leaves quivering over their heads. As they walked across a narrow bridge spanning the river, rushing waters rose and fell over polished stones, creating a melody of gurgling sounds. Glimmers of silver shone like liquid ribbons in flowing waters darkening to purple in the approaching night.

They had just started up a narrow road cut into the side of the hill, when they heard an engine coming up behind them. Moving quickly to one side, they looked over their shoulders just as Sam’s old pickup truck slowed down and stopped beside them.

“Want a lift?” Scott leaned over and opened the passenger door.

Before Allie could refuse, Trudy readily accepted, “Sure, thanks. The road’s steeper than I had expected. I didn’t know we were going to hike halfway up a mountain.” Laughing, she waved Allie into the seat first. “After you.”

A stubborn set to Trudy’s full lips warned Allie not to make a scene about who was going to sit in the middle next to Scott. Allie sent her a veiled look, thinking, “I’ll get even with you later,” as she climbed into the truck beside Scott.

The truck was an old one, and Trudy’s ample hips took up more than a third of the high, narrow seat. Allie did her best to keep from crowding Scott, but there was little she could do about the close quarters. As she sat beside him, she tried to ignore the effect of his body warmth, and the faint scent of spicy aftershave lotion that teased her nostrils. His hair was still moist from a recent shower, and she remembered how the dark strands had waved around his face when they’d gone swimming in a river pool. His profile was the same and yet different because his attractive masculine features were marred by unhappy lines in his forehead and around his mouth. He drove without looking at her, and she was uncomfortable in this forced intimacy.

Window lights were visible through the trees as he turned off the road and drove a short distance to a wide clearing in front of the house. Almost immediately the front door flew open, and Patrick’s rangy frame filled the doorway.

Scott was aware of Allie’s obvious relief as she got out of the car. When he’d offered a lift, he’d hoped that some of the earlier friction over the room painting might be set aside, but he’d felt her body stiffness as she tried to keep as much distance between them as the cab would allow. Undoubtedly the next two weeks would only increase the chasm that had already widened between them. Once the campers arrived, he planned to keep his distance from her and the others.

Accepting this dinner invitation had been spur of the moment. Even as he asked himself why on earth he’d let himself in for a whole evening with Allie, he knew the answer. He didn’t want to be alone in the house with memories of his dad and Jimmy. The sooner he was finished with Rainbow Camp the better, he decided as he took a deep breath, put a smile on his face and followed Allie and Trudy into the house.

Dorie had dinner ready, and she shooed them into the kitchen with a flutter of her apron. They sat at a round table, and bowed their heads as Pat said his favorite grace. “Father, God, be our guest, and may this food to us be blessed.”

The meal was beautifully simple and delicious: golden-brown stuffed pork chops, accompanied by fresh garden peas and a spinach salad. Rhubarb pie with wild strawberries was served with rich, amber coffee.

“It does my heart good to see you haven’t lost your appetite,” Dorie told Scott in a tone that suggested that there were other things about him that had been lost since she’d seen him last.

The O’Tooles were as hospitable as ever, but as the evening progressed, Scott realized that they were in the same place they’d been years ago when they first started working summers for his father. Contented with few luxuries, they still depended upon things they could grow, chickens and pigs they could raise and a goat they could milk. Patrick’s handyman work brought in what little income they had during the winter months, and he wondered how they would replace the modest income that the two of them earned helping his father with the camp. If they weren’t so shortsighted, they’d recognize that he was doing them a favor by selling off his dad’s land. Any new development in the area would raise the value of everyone’s property, and if the O’Tooles sold out at a huge profit, they could live more comfortably somewhere else.

Scott hadn’t intended to put his thoughts into words, but there was a lull in the table conversation that invited a change in topic. The women had been talking about church affairs, and the new minister that both Trudy and Allie liked.

“Have you and Dorie thought about selling this place?” Scott asked Patrick as they were sipping their coffee and eating Dorie’s delicious pie.

Both Patrick and Dorie lowered their forks almost as one, and looked at him as if he’d suddenly started speaking a foreign language. “Are you thinking of buying it?” Patrick asked dryly.

“No, of course not.” Scott forced a laugh. He knew then that he should have kept his thoughts to himself.

“Land’s sake, why would we be wanting to sell our home?” Dorie asked.

“Because you could get the kind of price that would put money in the bank.”

“Money for what?” Dorie asked, frowning. “To buy another house? To live somewhere else not half as nice?”

Allie brushed her lips with a napkin to hide the smile on her face. Scott had stepped into the mud hole with both feet. Obviously, money was the wrong criteria to measure the O’Tooles’ wealth of happiness. Didn’t he realize that Pat and Dorie were living a life of peace, joy and contentment that a huge bank account could never replace? What saddened Allie was remembering that as a youth Scott had never talked about making big money as a goal in life, but the man sitting across the table from her had sadly settled on financial prosperity as the measure of his life. What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

To ease the tension, Allie said, “What do you say we get the kitchen cleared, and then persuade Patrick to get out his guitar? Trudy and I have been harmonizing on some good old country tunes. We thought we’d do a couple for ‘Skit Night’ if Patrick would help us practice.”

“I reckon I could strum a tune or two for a couple of pretty lasses,” Patrick conceded as a smile creased his craggy face.

Scott suddenly felt out of place, and wished he’d stayed at the house. He had nothing in common with these people anymore. He couldn’t see that they had matured at all.

As soon as he could, he got to his feet and he said, “Thanks for the wonderful dinner, Dorie. I’m sorry but I’d better run along. I’ve got some business calls coming in later.”

“Sure and you’re always welcome at our table, Scott,” Dorie said with a sincere smile. “I’m hoping we’ll be seeing more of you while you’re here. You’ll probably be helping out with the young ’uns, won’t you?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answered quickly. “I really had planned to have everything wound up by now and get back to my brokerage business. Because of the delay, I’ve had to put a computer in one of the bedrooms so I can work from here. I don’t expect to have any free time.”

“’Tis a shame you can’t take a little vacation for yourself,” Dorie said sadly. “Especially since this is the last time that there’ll be a Rainbow Camp.”

“The property will be put to good use,” Scott assured her. “There’s no doubt that I’ll get my price out of it.”

“So you’ve made up your mind to sell out, have ya?” Patrick pushed back his chair and stood up.

“Yes, I have,” Scott said firmly, looking the older man straight in the eyes.

“The Lord has made good use of that place for a good many years, and Sam was a good partner doing His work.”

“There’s a buyer all lined up to sign the papers,” Scott said flatly. “It’s a done deal.”

“Maybe not,” Patrick said. “Ever hear the saying, ‘Man proposes, and God disposes’?”

Scott gave a short laugh. He wasn’t going to argue. He’d made his plans, and he’d learned the hard way not to trust anything or anyone, but himself.

“Oh, you can’t leave now, Scott,” Trudy protested. “That hike back to the camp will finish me off for sure. If you hadn’t come along, I’d probably still be huffing and puffing to get here.”

“If Scott wants to leave, I’ll run you ladies back to camp,” Patrick volunteered, giving Scott a dismissing wave of his hand. “Go on, son, tend to your business.”

Allie surprised herself by jumping to Scott’s defense. “Time has a way of running over us sometimes. Maybe it’s a good idea if we all call it a night. Tomorrow is going to be another busy day.”

Dorie nodded. “I got a hundred things to do in the kitchen, but we’ll be ready for the children when they get here,” she said with the air of a coach urging her team to victory.

After a few minutes of conversation about what preparations still had to be made, Allie and Trudy said good-night. They gave Dorie a hug as they prepared to leave and Scott thanked her for the wonderful meal.

“We’ll take a rain check on the guitar playing,” Allie reassured Patrick, knowing in her heart that there wasn’t going to be any time for such idle happenings.

When Patrick saw the pickup parked out in front, he demanded, “Why are you driving Sam’s old Ford when you got that fancy rental car?”

“I was thinking about leaving it with you. I thought you might know someone who could make use of it. I hate to junk it.”

“Junk it!” He looked aghast. “You’re out of your blithering mind. Why there’s plenty of miles left in the old baby. Your dad and I spent many hours keeping it running. You’ll not be junking it, if I have anything to say about it.”

“Good,” said Scott, silently smiling as he turned away.

Chapter Four

The church bus was ready and waiting to load at nine o’clock Monday morning. Allie and Trudy had come back to town for the weekend, and had pulled together all the loose ends for the group’s stay at Rainbow Camp. Lily Twesbury and a middle-aged couple, Bob and Marie Tomlin, had all the supplies packed and ready to load on the bus.

As the youngsters began to arrive, Allie checked them off the list. “Stack your luggage over there so Barry can load it in the compartment.”

“These kids are taking enough stuff for a month,” Barry Nelson, the bus driver, complained. He shook his head as he surveyed the mountain stack of suitcases. A retired postman, he was the volunteer that drove the church bus whenever he was needed. He was a jovial fellow, claiming that after thirty years of “hoofing” it, he was always ready to take a ride. He wouldn’t put up with any horseplay on the bus, and even the most rambunctious kids settled down when he was in charge. He did double duty as bus driver and chaperon on youth outings.