Rescued By The Firefighter. Catherine Lanigan

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СКАЧАТЬ her stylish Chicago career days. There was nothing “down home” about Amanda.

      “After that ordeal last night, I thought the kids and the counselors needed something happy. I’ve got blueberries for the eyes, cherries for the nose and whipped cream smiles.”

      Beatrice gave Amanda a smile of her own, the first one that had creased her face since she’d whiffed smoke. “You’re an angel.”

      “No. I’m a cook, honey. You’re the angel for going in after those boys.”

      Beatrice drained the warm water from the boot, went to the freezer and scooped ice cubes from the bin. She filled the boot resevoir. “Ah. Better already.”

      Amanda scooped the pancakes off the griddle, placed them on plates and started decorating.

      Cindy came through the swinging kitchen door. “Beatrice! You’re up!”

      “Wobbling, but upright, yes.”

      “Good. I could use you out here.”

      “How so?”

      “Would you talk to the kids? They’re upset, and Bruce and I are at our wits’ end. They need—”

      “Leadership,” Amanda interjected. “Like the kind most of them don’t get from their parents.”

      Beatrice stared at Amanda, who always spoke the truth sans varnish. And didn’t care when she said it or to whom. Sometimes, Beatrice wondered if that was the real reason she’d been pushed into retirement.

      Cindy glanced at Beatrice’s air boot. “That’s just so intimidating. To a kid, I mean. Possibly scary. But hey, if anyone can pull this off, you can.”

      “It can’t be that bad,” Beatrice replied and hobbled past Cindy and out the kitchen door into the large, vaulted-and-beamed dining hall. The long wall of windows at one end overlooked the little man-made lake at the back of the property, and the morning sun glinted off its surface. The opposite wall of windows looked out over the burned trees. Cindy was right. The atmosphere was already daunting to her camp kids.

      She gazed around the room at the fear-filled wide eyes. No one said a word. No one was eating, pinching their neighbor, arguing or joking. They weren’t camp kids now; they were children floating through insecurity’s seas. The Kettering sisters held hands as Beatrice walked into the hall. Little Ricky stared blankly at his full glass of orange juice, though Beatrice perceived the tiny movements in his shoulders to be quiet sobs.

      Eli wore a gauze patch over half of his left cheek, but he was the only child who ventured to smile at her. To his right was Chris, whose eyes were focused on the wall above Beatrice’s head. Eli reached for Chris’s hand, but Chris brushed him away and leaned back against his chair, folding his arms defensively over his chest.

      Joshua Langsford was the only one who spoke, as he asked, “Does it hurt, Miss Beatrice?”

      “A little bit, but nothing like what you’ve had to go through, Joshua.” She smiled. He didn’t smile back.

      Every one of the kids clamped their eyes on Beatrice’s air boot. “So, here’s the scoop, guys. I broke a bone in my foot. I’m going to be fine. But for now, I have to wear this boot and use crutches when I’m outside or going up stairs to my cabin. I’m hoping the doctor lets me toss the crutches in a week.”

      “Yeah, crutches help, but they’re a pain after a while,” Joshua said.

      Beatrice’s cell rang. She looked at the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number, but it was local. She hit the decline button. “I’ll get it later. So, this is what I want you all to know. Last night was an accident and luckily no one was seriously hurt. What we need to focus on is the loss of trees.”

      “The trees?” the kids said in unison.

      “That’s right. Those trees were here when I was your age. I loved those trees. They were my friends when I didn’t have friends.”

      Amazement and incredulity hung in the air as the kids leaned a bit closer, propped a chin on a palm or cocked their heads.

      An adult revelation was rare to them, which made this moment all the more precious. Their hearts and heads were open to her and she hoped they felt her sincere caring.

      “The Indian Lake Nursery has agreed to deliver over a hundred baby trees to us tomorrow. We’re all going to work together and plant these new trees to rebuild the forest.”

      “But the ground is burned,” Ricky said.

      “That’s the interesting thing. Did you know that ancient tribes used to purposefully burn the land in order to start new growth? The trees have cones filled with seeds that start new trees, but the cones only open with great heat. In one month, we may see little trees peeking up through the ground. It’s new life. A new beginning.” She paused to let the children absorb what she was saying. “We aren’t required to plant new trees, but I wanted you all to be part of helping to rebuild the forest. It’s sort of our way to put the past behind us, and to learn that out of every sorrow, every pain, there is something good and wonderful to be found. But you have to look for it. Work for it.”

      The errant tear that rolled down Beatrice’s cheek didn’t let its presence be known until it hit the edge of her jaw. Only then, when she stopped talking, did she lift her fingertips to whisk it away. She’d never cried in front of camp children before. This was a first.

      Then again, she’d never run headlong into a blazing fire to save one of her kids, either.

      “For all of you who went to St. Mark’s last night, Father Michael phoned me early this morning and told me that you were the best group of kids he’s ever seen. You made me proud. Bruce and Cindy didn’t have to worry about any of you. You took an emergency situation and dealt with it calmly and respected those in authority. I couldn’t ask for more. Thank you to the older kids who helped the younger ones. Everybody pitched in. You’re all—” she looked directly at Chris and Eli “—the best group of campers who’ve come to stay with me. I hope you all come back next year and stay for a whole month!”

      The room erupted in cheers and clapping. Beatrice’s heart swelled and she breathed in their affection.

      They were so young, and though the night had been fraught with terror, they’d all grown from the experience.

      “So, listen up, guys. Amanda has made a special breakfast for you all. Pancakes, bacon and baked cinnamon apples with oatmeal crunch. We have lots of homemade syrup from the Indian Lake Boy Scouts and plenty of butter. After breakfast, Cindy is taking those who signed up for kayak lessons to the lake. Bruce and Maisie are heading up baseball practice. Joshua? How’s the leg? You think you want to try some batting practice?”

      “You bet, Miss Beatrice,” Joshua replied happily.

      “Great!”

      Amanda, Bruce, Maisie and Cindy entered the dining hall with trays filled with special breakfast plates. While the kids cheered, Beatrice’s cell phone rang again.

      This time, she turned away from the dining tables and headed toward the door. Walking in her boot slowed her down enough that she could read the caller ID.

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