Chapter 12

Clear blue skies and bright sunshine welcomed the official start of camp. By Sunday afternoon, staff and volunteers took to their roles like sand settling on dunes. A state of calm ushered in high hopes and bold expectations for the long awaited peace camp.

Amanda stood among the greeters as campers filed from the bright yellow school buses. Hesitant children, ranging in age from nine to twelve, surveyed the campgrounds. Their expressions were a mixture of wonder and fear. Whatever carefree days they'd enjoyed in the homes of American host families, the memories of their dangerous homeland were still evident on their wary faces.

Eager counselors stepped forward in welcome, breaking the ice with smiles and helping hands. By the time they marched their charges toward the cabins, the new arrivals were warming up to the strange surroundings.

With the initial hubbub dying down, Amanda felt at loose ends. Her mother was working with the kitchen crew to prepare Sunday dinner. The boys were with their assigned cabin groups, and Lee was tied up with assistant director details. By all appearances, he was joined at the hip with Brandi for the registration of campers. It appeared Miss Litchfield was keeping him on a very short leash.

Last night's rescue mission seemed little more than a distant memory. Lee certainly appeared none the worse for wear, and he failed to mention their midnight encounter when she saw him briefly before breakfast. His casual nod and crooked grin held no hint of the drama they'd shared in the grip of the crisis. In the blackness of night, she may have been a welcomed port in the storm, but in the light of day, she was just another face in the crowd.

Amanda shook off her obsessive reflection. Lingering fatigue was making her emotions spiral out-of-control. If she'd gotten a better night's sleep, instead of rehashing everything in her head for hours, her mood would be considerably better. Regardless, she found it impossible to ignore the myriad of feelings Lee Stetson had incited in little more than 36 hours at Camp Harmony.

Over one weekend, the man had aced any number of tests. Good with Kids - check. Caring with her boys - check. Concerned about her feelings - check. Magnetic attraction - check, check. Last night's rescue had confirmed all evidence of their mutual chemistry. When they were thrown together in a crisis, the sparks flew between them. The fates must have had something more than espionage in mind when Scarecrow and Mrs. King crossed paths at the train station on a cloudy October day in 1983.

"Hello, darling."Like a rooster at sunrise, Dotty West's voice startled her from her daydreams.

"Mother, when did you get here?"

"Dear, I've been standing beside you for the last ten seconds. You seem to be lost in some pleasant thought. Why on earth are you blushing?"

Amanda ran a finger around the neckline of her shirt. "It's going to be another 'hot one', isn't it, Mother."

"What's hot, darling? Certainly not the weather. I find it rather chilly."

"You're right, Mother." Amanda led her toward the dining hall. "So, how did you earn a 'get out of jail free card'? You told me Loretta Merkel ran her kitchen like a prison guard at San Quentin."

"That woman," Dotty said with a huff. "She thinks I take too many liberties with her recipes. Her idea of a dollop of whip cream on each serving of gingerbread is so miniscule, you'd need a magnifying glass to see it. You'd think I'd raided the National Mint when I added a little extra."

"Mo-ther, I hope Loretta didn't fire you."

"No, I'm not fired. Let's just call it a cooling-off period. She's too short of help to keep me on suspension for very long."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "I hope you're free to eat dinner with me."

"Do you miss the boys, dear?"

"Yes, of course. However, I'm afraid Phillip feels too big to hang out with his mother. It's just not cool."

"And what about Jamie?"

"He'd be my little shadow if his counselor didn't insist that he sit with some members of his cabin group. I'm afraid Jamie's having a hard time adjusting to sleep-over camp."

"He'll be fine, Amanda. It's not like he can't see you everyday."

Joining the others on the lawn, Amanda and Dotty waited for the dinner bell. At five o'clock, a tall figured emerged from the lodge and reached toward the rusty metal triangle with a large ladle. "Come and get it," he yelled as he repeatedly clanged the old camp relic. Remarkably, Lee seemed at ease in his role. Maybe the countless military mess halls of his nomadic childhood had somehow groomed him for this moment.

Walking with the crowd through the double doors, Amanda observed the hesitancy in some of the smaller children. Their pinched faces registered homesickness. Maybe she could bring them some comfort by joining them for a meal. "May we sit here?" she asked a subdued group of children who quietly sat at a table for eight.

Five heads nodded with consent, so Amanda and her mother took two of the remaining three seats.

Pointing at the last chair, the boldest of the five spoke up. "Save a chair for the cruiser."

"The cruiser?" Dotty asked.

Amanda nodded. "The cruiser is the person who will wait on our table. Today it will be a staff person. The rest of the week, the children will take turns."

"What's your name," a husky, blue-eyed boy inquired.

"I'm Amanda King, and this is my mother, Mrs. West."

Dotty patted the hand of the child next to her. "Now tell us your names."

"Bobby," the first one shouted like a "Mouseketeer" from the "Mickey Mouse Club." Then pointing around the table, he introduced the others - "Michael, Dennis, Kathleen and Megan."

"And, Skip," a deeper voice supplied. "I'm your cruiser."

There stood Lee, looking, for all intent and purposes, like he'd been rescued from Gilligan's Island. A rumpled white sailor's cap adorned his buzz cut, and a 35 mm camera hung from his long, muscular neck. The cover was complete with faded, bell-bottom blue jeans and a red and white striped polo shirt, that was a size too small. There was virtually no chance that Dotty West would ever connect this character to any Lee Steadman, Lee Sampson, or Lee Stetson she might encounter in the future.

Gripping the back of the empty chair, he leaned closer and whispered near Amanda's ear. "You're not making this easy for me, you know."

Amanda closed her eyes, chagrined at her faux pas. Of all the places to sit in the spacious dining hall, she had to go and choose Lee's table. "Sorry," she mouthed, resigned to making the best of the dinner meal.

Dotty's eyes lit up like New York's Times Square. "Skip, how nice to see you again." She leaned across the table and patted his hand. "Amanda told me everything about your ordeal. I'm glad you're okay."

"Thank you, Mrs. West." he said, removing his cap with an exaggerated bow. "I'm glad you could join us." This time, the Scarecrow charm was definitely in place, even if it was a bit over the top.

"So," Lee continued with a wide dimpled grin. "Does everyone like liver and onions?"

"Nooooo," groaned the children in unison.

"Well, I guess we'll have plenty of leftovers for tomorrow's lunch." He winked at Megan, who blushed and giggled. "I'll be right back with the grub."

Dotty's gaze followed Lee as he left the table. "Amanda," she whispered, "you seem rather subdued around Skip. Loosen up, darling. We need to give the man new consideration. He seems more relaxed and fit today. And did you see his smile?"

"Mo-ther, please." Amanda glanced nervously around the table, relieved to note that the children were momentarily occupied. Granted, they were happily balancing spoons from the tips of their noses, but at least they were completely engrossed with their childish game.

The world class matchmaker continued down the same path. "I didn't notice it so much last night, but Skip seems well packaged - tall, straight nose, and great posture. Posture is very important Amanda. You can tell a lot about a man's character by the straightness of his back."

"So, you've told me previously," Amanda mumbled, remembering the handsome Lee Sampson who temporarily moved to Maplewood Drive during the "Mothers For a Safe Environment" fiasco.

Dotty continued with her observations. "I imagine Skip can really strut his stuff in a double-breasted 'Brooks Brothers' suit."

Amanda nudged her mother as Lee approached with a tray of food. "Ssssh, here he comes now."

Setting out dishes of Maryland fried chicken, creamy mash potatoes, buttered green beans, and corn on the cob, Lee took the empty seat beside Amanda and held up a stainless steel pitcher. "Okay, who wants Bug Juice?"

"Bug juice?" the children cried. "Yuck."

"Then milk it is," he said, handing a second pitcher to his neighbor. "Amanda, would you do the honors, please?"

Kathleen propped her elbows on the table and stared at Lee. "Mrs. West likes your back?"

"My back?" A large helping of mashed potatoes missed his plate when his head jerked up in response. "Well, thank you, I guess."

Amanda elbowed her mother. "See what you started."

Dotty wasn't fazed in the least. "I was just commenting on your good posture, Skip. You must be in the military."

"Ah, not exactly. However, I was raised on military bases, if that counts."

"We're you scared?" Michael's quiet voice was barely audible.

Befuddlement etched Lee's facial features. "Scared of what?"

"The soldiers and the guns scare me." The child stopped eating and studied his plate.

Lee cleared his throat. "No, pal. It was safe on the base. I was okay."

"We be scared," Megan said in her sweet Irish brogue. "We have 'The Troubles'."

"Yes, I know. I'm sure that's very hard." He placed an arm around her thin shoulders. "But you're going to be safe with us."

Megan braved a tiny smile and returned to eating.

Amanda caught Lee's eye and smiled warmly. She was so proud of the way he handled himself with the youngsters. He may be an only child, and childless himself, but this man had a natural affection for kids. She wondered what other surprises lurked beneath the depths of his Scarecrow exterior.

When the gingerbread and whipped cream had been eaten and the last of the dinner dishes disappeared, Brandi took the stage and raised her hand. Immediately hands went up everywhere in the room, and voices fell silent. "Welcome boys and girls. We're so glad you're here. Are you having a good time?"

Cheers erupted and everyone applauded.

"Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy Camp Harmony more and more with each passing day. "Do you like to sing?"

Small heads bobbed up and down. "Yes," they called in unison.

"Our assistant director will be leading the singing. Skip, come on up here."

Amanda's mouth dropped open in surprise. She could hear Lee emit a slight groan, meant for her ears alone. "Go on," she said. "We'll be rooting for you."

He plastered on a lame smile and made his way to the stage, giving out high fives to Phillip and Brian who whooped in support when he passed their table.

Making it to the stage, Lee was greeted by Brandi's stellar smile. "Skip Stanton is our 'jack of all trades'." Her thick drawl oozed like maple syrup during a late winter thaw. Handing him a song book, she placed her long fingers on his forearm. "You may pick any song you want, or you may ask the campers to request their favorites."

Lee nervously thumbed through the pages, apparently not thrilled with any of the titles. "How about 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat'," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "It's an oldie but goodie."

Brandi nodded her approval and made her way to the piano.

Dotty cupped her hand next to Amanda's ear. "You know, darling, it may be too late to reconsider Skip Stanton. Miss Brandi Litchfield definitely has her eye on him. They do look good together. I'll grant them that much."

"Mother, please." Amanda slouched lower in her chair. Why did everyone picture Lee with blondes?

The object of their attention missed the first musical introduction. "I'll start again," Brandi called, when he failed to begin on cue.

The second time, he was ready. "Row, row, row, your boat, gently down the stream," the reluctant baritone sang. Standing stiffly with the dog-eared songbook, Lee was halfway through the first verse before he realized no one had joined in. "Hey, don't make me do this alone!" he griped. "I need a little help here, gang."

"Do a round," Brandi encouraged from her seat at the old upright piano. She flashed him a big smile that seemed to give him a dose of courage.

"A round?" he questioned.

"You know," she instructed. "Start off one group of kids and then bring in another group right behind them."

"Oh, yeah, a round." Parading across the platform, Lee started the kids on the right hand side of the room, before shifting quickly and pointing to those on the left. Hesitantly at first, the children joined his efforts. Back and forth, he ran trying to keep the song going.

"I can't hear you," he hollered.

"ROW, ROW, ROW. . . " they shouted as their sweet young voices belted out the song.

Gradually gaining confidence, Lee seemed to find his groove. His easy charm was a natural magnet for the enamored children. With growing enthusiasm and Brandi's steadfast guidance, he led the campers through "Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore," and "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." By the time they finished "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes," he was hamming it up.

Amanda laughed until she thought her sides would split. During each song, she picked up Lee's camera and snapped some pictures, recording for posterity a once in a lifetime performance. Without proof, Billy would never believe it.

"Tell me I'm dreaming," Francine groaned as she came up behind Amanda. In a rare display of sisterhood, the blonde nudged her arm. "I'm afraid he'll start crooning 'A Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall'."

Amanda left her seat to go stand with her colleague by the back windows.

"Well, the man is most certainly possessed," Francine whispered. "This is not Lee Stetson, spy extraordinaire. "The next thing you know, he'll be playing an harmonica and forming a kazoo band."

Amanda watched the unbridled pleasure on Lee's face, realizing the repressed boy of his childhood was finally breaking loose from the shackles of a strict upbringing. Maybe during the week, Lee would provide more healing moments for the shell-shocked kids from the terrorized streets of Northern Ireland.

Finally, the singing ended, and Brandi stepped forward to make the announcements. As soon as Lee walked off the platform and made his way to the back, the grumpy Scarecrow surfaced. "I dare you to make one comment," he murmured to his colleagues. "Just one word and I'll have you scrubbing pots in the kitchen all night."

Francine ignored his threat. "Skip, you were just adorable. Maybe next time you can sing 'The Teddy Bears Picnic.' I bet some of the little campers have stuffed bears you can borrow."

"I'd button it, Francine," he said, glaring at his Agency counterpart. Then turning to Amanda, he offered his all-purpose excuse for any display of emotion. "It was a cover, that's all. There was nothing more too it."

"Excuse me," Brandi called from the stage, looking right at the trio. "Do you have announcements to make?" Every eye in the dining hall turned in their direction.

"Why, yes," Francine responded, neatly covering their tracks. "We need to remind the children to wear shoes on the boat dock. No one goes boating without them."

Amanda piped up, too. "The craft cabin will be open after dinner."

"Don't forget the softball game," Lee added. "There's a sign-up sheet at the backdoor."

When Brandi gave the signal, a hundred metal chairs scraped the concrete floor, and kids scrambled for the exits with their counselors bringing up the rear.

Dotty materialized at her daughter's side, before the little circle of agents could disband. "Darling, I just want to say hello to Miss Desmond again."

Amanda felt her heart skip a beat as her startled colleagues turned to look at the smiling Dorothea West. "Ah, Mother, I think you mean Miss Redmond - Francine Redmond."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry," Dotty apologized. "Miss Redmond how is your chimpanzee?"

Lee's jaw dropped, and he whirled to look at Francine. "Your chimpanzee?"

Mother, ah, I think you might be wrong. . . ."

"Bonzo is fine," Francine interrupted with a smile. "Thank you for remembering."

"Bonzo?" Lee turned to Amanda, a look of complete horror on his face. "What is she talking about?"

"Shush." Amanda leaned closer to his ear. "When Francine showed up at my house last year, I convinced Mother that she was one of my pet-sitting clients. I told her that I took care of Francine's chimpanzee."

"Oh, Amanda," he said with a groan. "And your mother bought it?"

Francine continued to play along. "Are you still making your strudel, Mrs. West?"

"Yes, occasionally. I don't know why, but my daughter won't eat it." Dotty tipped her head and tapped a finger against her chin. "Hmmm, I'm trying to remember the memorable quote by your cook, Moline? Is he known for the phrase 'nothing says lov'in like strudel from the oven'?"

Francine looked puzzled for a moment, before recognition dawned. "Oh, you mean, 'strudel is an act of love.' Moline also said, 'to not eat it is to reject a gift'."

Dotty beamed. "Miss Redmond, you must let me make you some strudel. You never did come by for your rain check."

"I'd love it, Mrs. West."Mercifully, Lee intervened. "Okay, folks, let's get moving. The kids are waiting on the dock. It's time to row, row, row your boat, Francine."


Nearly a third of the campers wandered into the craft cabin to make friendship bracelets, lanyards, and fancy name tags. Then, after ninety minutes of bustling activity, the children were dispersing - heading over to Vesper Point for songs and stories around the campfire.

Bryce Topping was by Amanda's side from the moment she set up shop. He was a big help as she hurried to keep one step ahead of the eager children. Even more impressive, he volunteered to help her with the clean-up.

The crash of a tin can shattered the calm. Beads spilled onto the floor boards, rolling in every direction. "Oh, no." Amanda sighed and dropped to her knees. "I'm going to be here awhile.

"Sorry, Mrs. King," Brian Topping said, parading through the entryway with Phillip on his heels. "I didn't think I could hit the can with my slingshot."

Bryce was on him in a beat. "Give me that, young man. I can't believe you brought a weapon to camp. Now get down on the floor and pick up every single one of those beads."

"Yes, sir." To his credit, the boy went straight to his task. After watching for a moment, his dad bent down to help him.

Amanda left them to the chore and turned her attention to the other supplies. "Phillip, I could use some help."The boy mumbled a complaint, but stood still while his mother loaded his arms with supplies and pointed him toward the craft closet.

"Mom, you missed a great game. You should've seen Skip pitch."

"Oh, really?" Amanda smiled knowingly. She'd suspected that Phillip would tail after Lee.

"And, man, can he hit," Brian chimed in. Forgetting the beads, the boy mimicked a batter's stance and pretended to hit a line drive. "Going, going, gone. Skip hit that sucker right over the centerfield fence."

"You'd think our assistant director would have more important things to do than row boats, sing songs, and play softball." Bryce quietly directed his comments to Amanda. "I'm not buying his happy camper act. It makes me wonder what he's really doing at Camp Harmony."

Amanda shook her head, hoping to end the discussion in front of their audience. "Boys, please pick up the rest of the beads. "We'll be outside."

She led the way to the porch and then sat down on the end of the deck, letting her legs dangle over the edge.

Bryce took a seat beside her, apparently eager to continue his line of thought. "So, tell me, what do you know about Skip Stanton?"

Amanda shrugged. "Skip says he's from Rockville, Md. He's friendly, good with kids, and very responsible. I don't know what else to tell you."

His earnest blue eyes held her gaze. "Well, like I mentioned at the lighthouse, I have my suspicions about Skip Stanton and Francine Redmond. In all likelihood they're federal agents. I'm nearly certain we saw them at Chez Tayir."

"There were a lot of people in the restaurant that night," Amanda said, nervously wringing her hands together. "I don't know how you could possibly remember individuals."

"They had guns, Amanda. And they were asking questions. You must remember."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I've done my best to forget the evening, including who was there."

Bryce laughed. "Well, I hope not me."

"Definitely not you," she replied, offering him a warm smile. "I just don't want to resurrect the entire event again. It was hard enough to endure the shooting the first time."

"You're right," he said, relaxing his demeanor. "We don't need to rehash Chez Tayir. However, I have to tell you, Amanda, I get the distinct impression that you and Skip Stanton know each other. It's my job to notice people's actions, and I swear you two have a discernible rhythm with each other. It's hard to believe you just met yesterday."

"Bryce, until last night, I never heard the name Skip Stanton."

"Okay," he said, holding up his hands. "Please accept my humble apology. I just hope there won't be any trouble at Camp Harmony."

"Believe me, if I hear of any danger this week, I'll usher you and the children off the premises immediately."

"Of course you will. Please forgive me for building a federal case based on conjecture." Quickly he drew her into a hug. "You're a very logical person, Amanda King. A man could do well by you. I know you're good for me."

Amanda savored the moment of truce, looking up just in time to catch the Dotty West's signature Cheshire grin. "Hello," she croaked, knowing the innocent embrace would fuel new speculation.

"Lovely evening, isn't it, darling? I'm glad you and Mr. Topping can enjoy it together."

Bryce shot Amanda a sheepish look, before turning to face the gawking bystander. "Amanda and I are just catching up on old times while we wait for the boys to join us."

"Sure you are," Dotty said, nodding knowingly. "I'm glad you two appreciate your friendship."

Saved by the slamming of a screen door, all eyes turned toward the two rambunctious boys who jumped off the porch. "Hi, Grandma," Phillip said. "Are you going to the campfire?"

Dotty ruffled his hair as he tried to dodge her reach. "Why don't you show me the way, dear."

"I don't know where we're going," Phillip answered with a shrug.

Suddenly Jamie ran up to the group and tugged on his mother's sleeve. "Mom, may I sit with you tonight?"

"Of course, sweetheart, as long as your counselor said it was okay."

"Yeah, Mr. Duncan said it would be fine. He was satisfied that I went boating with my cabin mates."

"Good for you, sweetheart. Did you have fun?"

"It was okay, I guess. We ended up in Miss Redmond's boat again," he said with a frown. "Jeez, what a bossy lady. She didn't like our 'Knock-Knock' jokes, and Kevin's burping really got on her nerves. Then, when Michael dropped his Garter snake at her feet, she really started to hollar. I don't think she likes kids."

"Maybe, she's never been around boys very much." Repressing a smile, Amanda put her arm around her youngest. "So," she said, addressing the group, "does everyone have a flashlight and a jacket? It's going to get cold and dark before we return." Miraculously, everyone produced the needed items, and Amanda gave a thumbs up. "All right, then, follow me." She beckoned to her entourage and led the hike toward Vesper Point.

The boys entertained the adults with endless chatter as they made their way along a winding pathway and through a lush wooded area. Finally breaking into a clearing, they all stopped in their tracks at the breath-taking sight. The ground sloped into an outdoor amphitheater with a panoramic backdrop of the Chesapeake Bay.

The serenity and beauty immediately inspired a sense of awe, even in the kids. It was if they'd walked through a thin veil and entered a realm of something mystical and sacred. The boys' boisterous voices dropped to a whisper as the King and Topping families took their places on rustic wooden benches. Arranged in tiered semi-circles, the seating provided everyone with a mesmerizing view of the bay.

Ketches drifted by in the distance with their majestic sails billowing in the wind. Seagulls soared overhead, glided to earth, and strutted proudly in the sand. A Great Blue Heron waded through the marsh, plunged a long beak into the shallows, and captured its prey. The setting sun splashed the sky with hues of orange, pink, and purple; and the steel blue water of the bay merged with the darkening horizon. In the hush of twilight, peace stood still.

Amanda felt the day's tension drain away. Sitting between Bryce and Jamie, she relished the closeness of family and friends. However, her heart still longed for something more, and the more was down front, stoking the flames of the campfire.

Restng on one jean clad knee, Lee added more logs to the fire and expertly fanned the flames. Sparks rose high in the air, riding on the wind and casting dying embers upon the water.

Silhouetted against the gloaming, the solitary figure seemed at one with the earth. He belonged to no one, and no one belonged to him. A loner was what he called himself, resigned to making his way in the world, unencumbered by family.

Maybe no woman had the right to stake her claim on a man with a mission - a man who tirelessly labored to protect and defend the lives of so many people. His effectiveness as a top intelligence operative depended on his footloose lifestyle that took him to dangerous places at a moment's notice.

Amanda sighed wistfully. While her mind grasped the facts precisely, her heart defied the logic. She wanted more than just a partner at work. In truth, she longed for the total Stetson package -the colleague, the friend, the lover, the husband, the father to her children. In this moment of soul searching, she knew that nothing in her past or present could convince her otherwise.

"Wishing won't make it so," she whispered, pondering the likelihood of living out the rest of her years with the pain of unrequited love. Words from Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem, "In Memoriam," came to mind, providing her a measure of comfort. "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," she murmured to herself.

The strumming of a guitar redirected Amanda's thoughts. Brandi stood near Lee, tuning her instrument. Then, in a crystal clear soprano voice, she began to sing her repertoire of peace songs -"Imagine," "Dona Nobis Pacem," and "We Shall Overcome."

When Lee motioned for everyone to join in the singing, Amanda swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to find her voice. The last words of the old Civil Rights song seemed to offer her some semblance of hope for a more perfect union with Lee. "Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe, we shall overcome some day."


To Be Continued