Summoning his most charming smile, he stepped in to rescue her. “Glad you could join us, Mrs. Peakes, Mr. Peakes. I’m Conleth, one of Nancy’s counselors.”
“Oh, I have a little something for you, too!” Demonstrating a fine disregard for concepts of ‘physics’ or ‘gravity’, Nancy’s mother rummaged through the pile of cake boxes. Her husband hastily adjusted his grip, rescuing a sliding pie. “Though I’m afraid it’s only butter bars. I would have made your favorite, but Nancy hasn’t told us a thing about you. Or anything, really.”
Nancy’s father—now almost visible—gave his daughter a somewhat wounded look over a plastic-wrapped plate of snickerdoodles. “Youcouldwrite a bit more often, honeybunch.”
Nancy squirmed. “I’ve been kind of busy.”
“Indeed we have,” Conleth said to head off any further parental guilting. “Nancy’s certainly been making the most of her time at camp. We’re all very impressed by her achievements, especially with regard to?—”
“Hey, everyone, you gotta try my aunt’s lemon bars!” Nancy yelped, ripping the foil off the plate. “Especially you, Conleth! They’re really good!”
Hetta let out a squeal of excitement that had nothing to do with home-baked treats. She hurtled off the cabin porch as though shot from a catapult, leaping into the arms of a short man in a battered Stetson. Weathered face cracking in a broad grin, he spun her around before setting her on her feet again.
Hetta pulled him over to the rest of the group. “Everyone,” she said shyly. “This is my dad.”
“And you must be Conleth,” the man said in a drawling Texan accent, holding out a hand. “Jim Rosecomb. Hear you’ve been looking out for my little girl here.”
Accepting the handshake, Conleth almost rocked back on his heels. Rosecomb’s grip was confident rather than crushing, but to shifter senses he burned with casual dominance. Whatever his animal might be, there was a lot of power packed into that wiry five-foot-four frame.
Not a rival, Conleth told his bristling pegasus. Squashing an instinctive urge to demonstrate his own strength, he gave Rosecomb’s hand a brief, firm shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rosecomb. We’ve been delighted to have Hetta here at camp.”
“Took some persuading to convince her to give it a try.” Rosecomb ruffled Hetta’s hair affectionately. “Have to say, your first few letters home had me pretty worried, sweet pea. But I’m glad you stuck it out.”
“You should be very proud of your daughter,” Conleth said, seeing an opportunity. Having met Rosecomb, he now had a better understanding of why Hetta was worried about disappointing him, but she had to tell her dad the truth eventually. Talking up her strengths might help give her courage. “Despite some understandable fears, she’s tackled many challenges over the past few weeks. She even achieved the fastest time on the high rope course yesterday.”
“High ropes?” Nancy’s mother exclaimed. “Oh my. Nancy, please tell me you haven’t been doing anything likethat. Why, I get faint just thinking about it.”
“Now, now, honey,” her husband rumbled. “Calm down. I’m sure the counselors have been following all our instructions.”
Conleth had the abrupt sense of an ax hanging over the back of his neck. “Instructions?”
“The ones we attached to Nancy’s enrolment form.” Nancy’s mother turned to her daughter. “Youdidmake sure your counselors read our letter, didn’t you?”
Nancy shuffled her feet. “Soooooo, funny story. You know how you let me take the forms to the mailbox? Well, the envelope maybe sort of came open on the way, and the letter fell out. And I maaaaaaybe kind of accidentally on purpose…didn’t put it back in.”
Mrs. Peakes let out a shriek, reeling back as though shot. Cake boxes and pie tins went flying as Nancy’s dad dove to catch his mate.
“Nancy!” Mrs. Peakes clung to her husband, one hand pressed theatrically to her heart. “You mean to tell me you’ve been hereall this timewithout tellinganyoneabout yourcondition?!”
“No, no, that’s all right,” Conleth hastened to reassure Nancy’s parents. “We’re fully aware of the jumping issue. In fact, we’ve been working on some mitigation techniques forthat problem. I’m delighted to report that your daughter’s been making excellent progress.”
Nancy’s dad nodded thoughtfully. “Good. Good.”
Conleth breathed out in relief.
“Of course,” Nancy’s dad added, “We’re more concerned about the fainting.”
“…the fainting,” Conleth repeated, after a pause.
“Dad!” Nancy stomped a foot. “For the last time, I’m amountaingoat!”
Nancy’s dad shifted his not-inconsiderable weight from foot to foot. “Sweetie, technically, you’rehalfmountain goat.”
“Ugh!” Nancy pulled at her hair. “I can’t believe you’re still going on about this! There’s nothing wrong with me!”
“Watch your mouth, young lady!” her mother said sharply. “We don’t use ableist language in this family. There’s nothingwrongaboutbeing a fainting goat.”
Rosecomb’s eyebrows rose. “Y’all are fainting goats?”
