Read Online Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2) by Julie Lessman - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Lessman
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you’ve accomplished, given your background.”
Sam’s gaze lagged into a cold stare, suddenly aware why Jack was rapidly becoming one of his best friends. “Thanks, man,” he whispered. “I never forget where I came from, even if most people don’t have a clue.” Releasing a heavy exhale, he shook off his melancholy and offered Jack a sincere smile. “And no tie necessary, Jack, seriously. There’s nothing I’d rather do than help kids who haven’t been given a fair shake, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Jack made his way to the door, shooting a smile over his shoulder. “Appreciate it, Sam. I’ll have notes for you on what’s expected before I leave.” He turned, smile wary as he slacked a leg. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Sure.” Sam grinned, pretty sure he knew what it would be.
Jack leveled him with a pointed stare, smile flat. “No messing with the female volunteers. They have enough on their minds without some hotshot charming them into a crush. Got it?”
Sam flashed some teeth. “Sure, Jack. Anything else?”
Jack turned at the door, a gleam in his eyes as he offered a salute. “Yeah. And whatever you do, Ham,” he said with a twitch of a smile, “don’t wear a tie.”
Chapter Seven
“But I d-don’t want to see the n-nurse; I want to r-ride a h-horsy.” Little six-year-old Evie clung to Shannon’s neck, voice quivering with disappointment as they entered the reception area of the Camp Hope plantation house.
“I know, sweetheart, but you can’t ride a horsy if you’re dizzy and throwing up.” Shannon pressed a kiss to the child’s cheek, worry lines creasing her brow at the heat of her skin. This was the downside of volunteering at Miss Myra’s camp for ill and handicapped orphans—the heartbreak of seeing sickness steal what joy these precious children had. Shifting the little tyke in her arms, she wished she could give them far more than just volunteer time during the summers and on weekends. Like a family that would love and nurture them , she thought with a pinch in her chest.
Suppressing a melancholy sigh, Shannon poked her head in Miss Myra’s office, worry lacing her tone. “I’m taking Evie to sick bay, Miss Myra, because she’s not feeling well.”
“I want to ride the horsy,” Evie whimpered, red-rimmed eyes issuing a soggy plea to the camp’s matriarch as Shannon gently rubbed the little girl’s back.
Miss Myra glanced up, her perennial Southern air evident in a silk mauve dress perfectly complemented by a single strand of pearls. Most likely in her sixties, Miss Myra always appeared ageless to Shannon. Her classic ash blonde French twist and porcelain skin etched with fine lines was a perfect cover for a five-foot-one dynamo no one dared cross. Two tiny wedges appeared between Miss Myra’s brows as she rose to circle her desk. Her high heels clicked on the wooden floor with the same sharpness and efficiency with which she transformed her family’s plantation into a camp for orphans with illnesses, disabilities, and other challenges.
“There will be plenty of time to ride your horsy after you get well, darling.” Depositing a kiss to Evie’s brow, Miss Myra gently swept the little girl’s hair from her eyes, gaze connecting with Shannon’s. “Serena’s the nurse on duty today, but she just left for lunch after the volunteer doc arrived, so just take her on back. Oh my, she’s burning up,” she whispered, the thread of concern in her tone matching the soft blink of brown eyes.
“I hope it’s Dr. Nate,” Shannon said, readjusting Evie in her arms before turning to head down the hall. “He’s almost as good with the children as Jack.”
“No, it’s somebody new, according to Serena, but I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet, so you can be my scouting party.” Miss Myra actually winked, a gesture so out of character that Shannon grinned. “But she says he’s a real Southern gentleman, and I quote, ‘quite a hunk’
Sam’s gaze lagged into a cold stare, suddenly aware why Jack was rapidly becoming one of his best friends. “Thanks, man,” he whispered. “I never forget where I came from, even if most people don’t have a clue.” Releasing a heavy exhale, he shook off his melancholy and offered Jack a sincere smile. “And no tie necessary, Jack, seriously. There’s nothing I’d rather do than help kids who haven’t been given a fair shake, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Jack made his way to the door, shooting a smile over his shoulder. “Appreciate it, Sam. I’ll have notes for you on what’s expected before I leave.” He turned, smile wary as he slacked a leg. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Sure.” Sam grinned, pretty sure he knew what it would be.
Jack leveled him with a pointed stare, smile flat. “No messing with the female volunteers. They have enough on their minds without some hotshot charming them into a crush. Got it?”
Sam flashed some teeth. “Sure, Jack. Anything else?”
Jack turned at the door, a gleam in his eyes as he offered a salute. “Yeah. And whatever you do, Ham,” he said with a twitch of a smile, “don’t wear a tie.”
Chapter Seven
“But I d-don’t want to see the n-nurse; I want to r-ride a h-horsy.” Little six-year-old Evie clung to Shannon’s neck, voice quivering with disappointment as they entered the reception area of the Camp Hope plantation house.
“I know, sweetheart, but you can’t ride a horsy if you’re dizzy and throwing up.” Shannon pressed a kiss to the child’s cheek, worry lines creasing her brow at the heat of her skin. This was the downside of volunteering at Miss Myra’s camp for ill and handicapped orphans—the heartbreak of seeing sickness steal what joy these precious children had. Shifting the little tyke in her arms, she wished she could give them far more than just volunteer time during the summers and on weekends. Like a family that would love and nurture them , she thought with a pinch in her chest.
Suppressing a melancholy sigh, Shannon poked her head in Miss Myra’s office, worry lacing her tone. “I’m taking Evie to sick bay, Miss Myra, because she’s not feeling well.”
“I want to ride the horsy,” Evie whimpered, red-rimmed eyes issuing a soggy plea to the camp’s matriarch as Shannon gently rubbed the little girl’s back.
Miss Myra glanced up, her perennial Southern air evident in a silk mauve dress perfectly complemented by a single strand of pearls. Most likely in her sixties, Miss Myra always appeared ageless to Shannon. Her classic ash blonde French twist and porcelain skin etched with fine lines was a perfect cover for a five-foot-one dynamo no one dared cross. Two tiny wedges appeared between Miss Myra’s brows as she rose to circle her desk. Her high heels clicked on the wooden floor with the same sharpness and efficiency with which she transformed her family’s plantation into a camp for orphans with illnesses, disabilities, and other challenges.
“There will be plenty of time to ride your horsy after you get well, darling.” Depositing a kiss to Evie’s brow, Miss Myra gently swept the little girl’s hair from her eyes, gaze connecting with Shannon’s. “Serena’s the nurse on duty today, but she just left for lunch after the volunteer doc arrived, so just take her on back. Oh my, she’s burning up,” she whispered, the thread of concern in her tone matching the soft blink of brown eyes.
“I hope it’s Dr. Nate,” Shannon said, readjusting Evie in her arms before turning to head down the hall. “He’s almost as good with the children as Jack.”
“No, it’s somebody new, according to Serena, but I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet, so you can be my scouting party.” Miss Myra actually winked, a gesture so out of character that Shannon grinned. “But she says he’s a real Southern gentleman, and I quote, ‘quite a hunk’
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