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Her Rocky Mountain Hope

By Mindy Obenhaus

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Boy, he needed a haircut.
Daniel Stephens pulled his shaggy blond hair back into a man bun. Not his favorite look, but it would keep the hair out of his eyes.
The early June sun penetrated the thick canopy of pine trees as he knelt, dipping his brush into the red paint. He wiped off the excess on the side of the can before touching up the trim around one of the windows of the cedar chow hall/multipurpose facility. Eighteen months ago, this former scout camp near Ouray, Colorado, had been nothing more than a series of dilapidated buildings. Now, it was ready to house nearly two hundred youth cancer patients over the next two weeks, giving them the freedom to explore and have fun instead of sitting on the sidelines.
“Aw, don’t you look cute.”
Daniel looked up to see his older brother Andrew heading toward him, wearing a stupid grin.
He stepped onto the chow hall’s wooden porch and promptly batted at Daniel’s hairdo.
“Unless you care to be doused with red paint, I suggest you knock it off, bro.” Job completed, Daniel stood to inspect his handiwork.
“I hope you plan on getting a haircut before those kids arrive. You’re looking pretty rough.”
“Ah, the kids wouldn’t care so much. However, the overseer for the Ridley Foundation might.” Daniel swiped his forearm across his brow. “And since she’s due tomorrow, a haircut is on my list for this afternoon. Just as soon as the volunteers finish their training.” Since this was the camp’s inaugural season, he’d requested volunteers get there a few days early so any kinks could be worked out before the campers arrived.
“Well, you know what Mama always said. You only have one—”
“—chance to make a first impression.” Daniel rubbed the five-day growth along his jaw. “Which is why I plan to take care of this, too.” He wanted everything to be perfect when the overseer arrived. After all, the Ridley Foundation was their biggest donor, covering the majority of the renovations, as well as operating expenses, not to mention all of the campers’ fees. So, if he wanted their funding to continue into next year...
He eyed his brother. “Did you get things squared away in The Barn?” Though the barn-style structure was really a miniature hospital, he’d decided the facility should have a fun name that kids wouldn’t associate with illness.
“Yep. All of the sliding doors have been installed.”
“I’ll have to take a look.”
“Before or after the haircut?”
“Ha, ha.”
Andrew, the second oldest of the five Stephens brothers, grinned. “They look nice. Your decision to go with the stain instead of painting them was a good call. Adds the rustic touch you wanted.”
“Good. And since they’re sealed, they can be disinfected just like everything else.” The Barn was the only new structure at the camp, while the chow hall, staff quarters, camp office and nine cabins, including his, had been renovated. And he owed it all to Andrew. As the former owner of one of the largest commercial building companies in Denver, his brother had all the know-how needed to do the job not only to regulation, but also to finish it under budget and on time.
They scanned the sun-soaked grassy area surrounding the flagpole at the center of the camp while a grosbeak sang sweetly in a nearby tree. Daniel could hardly wait to see campers running to and fro. For many of them, this would be their first time experiencing summer camp. And he was determined to see to it they had the time of their lives—a week full of fun and adventure.
“The place looks great, Daniel.” Andrew slapped him on the back. “Mama would be proud of you.”
A lump formed in Daniel’s throat. As the youngest of five boys, he’d always loved adventure. Mountain climbing, ice climbing, extreme snowboarding, white water rafting... Nothing was off-limits. And his parents had never held him back. Then his mother was diagnosed with cancer.
As she neared the end of her battle, she’d asked to join him on one of his adventures. And while it had only been white water rafting on the nearby Uncompahgre River, the experience got him to thinking about others whose hopes and dreams had been dashed by cancer—kids who didn’t get to be kids because of this dreaded disease that forced them to endure things they should never have to go through.
Somehow, God had taken that nugget of an idea and turned it into a reality.
The sound of a vehicle on gravel drew his attention to the camp’s main drive as a white Camry emerged from trees.
“You expecting someone?” asked Andrew.
Daniel eyed the vehicle as it wound past the camp office that now doubled as his sleeping quarters. “No, I’m not.”
They continued to watch as the driver came to stop next to a towering spruce. A moment later a woman emerged. Her light-brown hair was slicked back into a sleek bun, and she wore skinny jeans topped with a dark blazer over a white shirt. He did a double take then. Why was she wearing heeled booties? They might be stylish, but they definitely weren’t practical out here.
Yep, this gal was a professional of some sort. And about as out of place as a vegetarian at a barbecue cook-off.
He couldn’t tell if she saw him or not, though she seemed to be scanning the area with a critical eye.
He leaned toward Andrew. “Do you think she’s lost?”
“Don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll handle it just fine.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans, Andrew strolled off the porch and headed toward his truck. “Have fun.”
Daniel wasn’t sure about fun, but he was curious. He picked up the paint can and his brush and trekked along the dirt path toward his office, waving as Andrew pulled away. Maybe she was an inspector of some sort.
No, not dressed like that. Besides, inspections had all been signed off on. So, what could she want?
He observed the woman again. Maybe she was from one of those pharmaceutical companies. Those folks always dressed like they’d come straight from a business meeting, and with the new medical facility...
Unfortunately, the medical staff was tied up with today’s training.
“Can I help you?” he asked as he approached.
Her head jerked in his direction, her scrutinizing gaze moving from his greasy hair and scruffy beard to his paint-spattered Wild Child T-shirt, cargo shorts and flip-flops before returning to his face again. “I’m looking for Daniel Stephens.”
Confused and perhaps a little embarrassed by his appearance, he said, “I’m Daniel.”
Her large eyes widened even more, her pink lips forming a slight O. “You’re Mr. Stephens?” Her exaggerated blink made it clear she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Shoving his insecurity aside, he straightened and sent her his best smile. “I am. And you are...?”
She extended her hand, long fingers tipped with perfectly manicured nails. “Blythe McDonald. Overseer for the Ridley Foundation.”
His smile evaporated, his confidence and heart sinking somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. “You’re...? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“Today is June eighth, correct?”
“Yes, but your email said June ninth.”
“Then you must have read it incorrectly.” Her forced grin grated his suddenly frazzled nerves.
Sure, the camp was ready, but he wasn’t. He’d seen vagabonds who looked better than he did. And the welcome speech he’d been rehearsing for the past week had flown completely out of his brain. If he didn’t find a way to redeem himself soon, he could forget about any funding from the Ridley Foundation, and the camp he’d worked so hard to bring back to life would be a goner.
And the kids...the ones who were looking forward to an escape from the world of cancer. Camp Sneffels was supposed to be a haven for them—a place where they could feel normal and experience things they might otherwise miss out on. Things such as zip-lining, a challenge course, canoeing... Most of all, they’d get to be with other kids who understood what they were going through and, perhaps, realize they weren’t so different after all.
They were the ones who would suffer. And he would do anything to prevent that from happening.

Staring at the scruffy camp director, Blythe found herself questioning her boss’s judgment. Jack Hendershot had gushed about Daniel Stephens for months, claiming, “He may be young, but he knows what he’s doing.”
Blythe puffed out a laugh. Not from where she stood, he didn’t.
Because while Camp Sneffels appeared to be a beautiful setting, its director looked like a bum. Throw in the fact that he couldn’t even remember her arrival date, something that should have been of utmost importance to someone seeking funding, and she found him sorely lacking. If he ran the camp with that same lackadaisical attitude, it was the children who would be let down, the same way she’d been, and there was no way she’d stand for that—even if it meant pulling the camp’s funding.
“Let me clean this paintbrush, and I’ll give you a tour.” Daniel Stephens walked away, the thwap, thwap of his flip-flops echoing in his wake.
Drawing in a cleansing breath of mountain air, she listened to the breeze whisper through the towering pine trees as she inspected her surroundings. Several yards to her left, a smallish wooden building was labeled Camp Office, while straight ahead on the opposite side of an expansive grassy area stood a large, somewhat charming structure with a rustic stone chimney. To its right was a red-and-white metal building that resembled a barn. And surrounding it all, mountain peaks with just the slightest hint of snow seemed to stand guard. Picturesque indeed.
Turning, she opened her car door and retrieved her phone to take some pictures. But one look at the screen revealed two text messages from her boss.
She read the first one.
Are you there yet?
Jack’s excitement reminded her of a little kid.
What do you think about Daniel? He’s great, isn’t he?
She shook her head. Great was not a word she’d even come close to using to describe Mr. Stephens.
Her phone rang then, her sister’s name appearing on the screen.
“Hey, Jenna. What’s up?”
“Just checking to make sure you made it safely to the camp.” Though Jenna was ten years older than Blythe and married with two kids, they were best friends. Her sister was the one she counted on to be there for her, to help her talk through her problems and listen to her vent. Blythe could be real with Jenna, something she’d never been able to do with their mother.
“About five minutes ago.”
“And...?”
Leaning against her vehicle, she peered down the wooded trail to her left. “The camp itself appears to be all right. Beautiful setting, but the director leaves a lot to be desired. Would you believe the guy wasn’t even expecting me?”
“Why not?”
“He thought I was coming tomorrow. And to make matters worse, he looks like something the cat dragged in.”
“Now Blythe, you know you shouldn’t judge someone by their outward appearance. It’s the heart that matters.”
She cupped her free hand around the microphone. “Jenna, not only is he dressed like a bum, he has a man bun!” she whispered emphatically.
Her sister chuckled. “He can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll send you a picture.” Movement out of the corner of her eye captured her attention. “Here he comes. I gotta go.” She ended the call and secretly snapped a photo of him walking toward her, hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy shorts while he looked the other way. A couple of screen taps and the image was on its way to Jenna.
“I apologize for the mix-up.” He stopped in front of her, appearing rather sheepish. “Can I get you anything? Some water maybe?”
She slipped her phone into her back pocket. “No, thank you.”
“Do you need to freshen up?”
Peering up at him, she instinctively smoothed a hand over her hair. Did she look like she needed freshening? Not that she should care.
She stiffened her spine. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“All right then. Since you’re going to be here for a while, why don’t I just give you a quick overview of the place for now? Then tomorrow we can cover things more in-depth.”
“That sounds reasonable.” After that five-hour drive, she could stand some downtime. Maybe do a little yoga to stretch her muscles.
He pointed toward the large structure opposite them. “That’s the chow hall and multipurpose building over there. It’s pretty much the hub of the camp. Aside from meals, it’s a general gathering place for events.”
“What types of events?” She wanted specifics, not empty promises.
“Skits, sing-alongs, a dance party...whatever we can think of. We’ll also use it for games or movies in the event that it rains.” He shifted from one flip-flopped foot to the other. “I’d take you inside, but the volunteers are doing some training with our medical staff today.
“If you’ll follow me this way.” He turned and started down the dirt-covered circle drive, then suddenly stopped. “Are you going to be okay walking in those?” He pointed to her shoes.
Noting his own footwear, she said, “I could ask you the same thing.”
His gaze lowered. “Okay then.” He moved in the direction of the red building with white trim. “This is the camp medical facility, but we refer to it simply as The Barn.” He continued onto the covered, rocking-chair-lined cement porch. “No point in throwing it in the kids’ faces that all of them have cancer, even if the building is state-of-the-art and ready to meet any need that could potentially arise, be it urgent or routine.”
Having fought her own battle as a teen, Blythe could certainly appreciate that. She was all too familiar with cancer and the stigma of being sick.
“What about the staff?”
“Some of the best in the region.” He escorted her inside where she was greeted by brightly colored walls and plenty of rustic wood doors and trim. After giving her a thorough tour of the facility, they moved on to the cabins where he explained that everything in the camp was accessible, including bathrooms.
Returning to where they’d started, Blythe found herself satisfied with the facilities, yet there was still one thing she needed to know. “What sorts of activities do you have for the kids? After all, you did promise them adventure.” Just like the camp she’d attended after her lymphoma diagnosis. Yet, instead of fun and games, she and the other campers had spent most of the week either in their cabins or doing nothing more than arts and crafts. Needless to say, she was not about to allow the kids coming to Camp Sneffels to face the same disappointment.
Beneath his bedraggled beard, the corners of Daniel Stephens’s mouth lifted, adding a gleam to his blue eyes. “I’ll take you to Adventure Haven tomorrow, but we’ve got zip-lining, a challenge course, fishing, canoeing, horseback riding—”
“And they’ll actually get to do all of those things?”
Seemingly confused, he stared down at her. “I sure hope so. I’d hate for the kids to leave disappointed.”
His response caught her off guard. Not to mention the sincerity in his tone. Did he really care about the kids having fun or was this simply a ruse?

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