Jenny Cussler's Last Stand by Bess McBride Page A

“Aw, thank you, man. I owe you. She likes Indians, George, any kind. Just tell her some of your great-great grandmother’s stories.”
    George grinned and gave Clint a thumbs-up signal. “Will do.”
    Clint hurried around the building and up the hill to the cabins set aside for staff. He opened the door of his small room, shut it behind him, and dropped onto the narrow single bed. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling held his attention for only a second. He jumped up restlessly and moved over to the single vinyl-cushioned chair in the room, in front of the window. He dropped into the chair and stared through the dusty window at the community area below. Movement caught his eye. He leaned forward. Celia and George strolled into the area to stand next to the large fire pit which would be lit later tonight.
    He relaxed into his chair and checked his watch. Ten minutes before camp officially began. He scanned the scene before him. His eyes lit on the van from Boise, the one where Jenny would be sleeping tonight. He could see it plainly, though it was some distance away. With a sigh, he turned to look at the single bed in his room. Only room for one. No hope of inviting her up here, he thought, unable to suppress the smile that accompanied the thought. As if he would... A stranger. Not likely.
    He wondered how he was going to sleep at night, knowing she was down there in the van. Would she keep a light on, some sort of flashlight, to ward off the darkness? She said she’d keep the windows covered. He hoped so. He thought she’d be safe, but he didn’t put it past any red-blooded male not to try to peek inside.
    As if he’d conjured her up, Jenny stepped into his view, walking beside a woman with short dark hair. He watched them stroll down to the community area and join their companions from Boise...Brad, and another thin fellow he didn’t recognize, who wore a T-shirt, dark running shorts, and sneakers, an outfit suitable for jogging in the city but probably impractical up here in the mountains.
    Clint shook his head. They got all kinds of folks up here, many who’d never been to the mountains before, most who’d never spent any appreciable time around Native Americans. He hoped it would be a good camp this year. His eyes strayed to Jenny once again, dressed in a blue sweatshirt and jeans. Things looked promising, he thought with a smile. Camp most certainly was going to be interesting this year, if nothing else. If he could behave and stop saying hokey things like he’d left her with earlier. We don’t have time to fight. It made sense at the time, but in the clear light of day and out of the sphere of her presence, it sounded corny as heck.
    He checked his watch and rose. Time for the meet and greet. And time to find out if Jenny was going to be in his group. Man, he hoped not. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Still...if she was, he’d definitely see more of her. He opened his door, stepped outside, and hoped for the best, though he wondered briefly what that was.
    ****
    Jenny’s heart, which had already been thumping in anticipation of seeing Clint once again, began to race as she watched him walk down the hill toward the community area...toward her.
    “Well, look at him, will ya?” Kate gave a low appreciative whistle.
    “Stop!” Jenny elbowed Kate playfully in the ribs and swung away from the approaching Clint.
    “Is that the guy you rode up here with, Jenny?” Tim, along with the rest of her group, stared open-mouthed. Jenny could only hope Clint hadn’t yet seen her motley group of Indian groupies.
    “Will you guys turn around and stop staring, for goodness’ sake?” She was desperate to see where Clint was at the moment but dared not turn around. The gathering area buzzed with the excited voices of campers.
    “Now, Jenny, don’t hog him all to yourself. He certainly is handsome,” Kate sighed.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Jenny saw Clint walk past on the grassy knoll above the