The Summer Place

by Pamela Hearon

His statement sent a surge of satisfaction through her. More free publicity was a good thing. Her mom and dad would be impressed!

  * * *

  WHILE THE YOUNG MAN FAWNED over Summer, Rick stayed out of the way, watching from a distance, taking his own photos for his Delaney file. The besotted reporter was sure to give Summer some great coverage in the article. Rick just hoped the camp got some mention, as well.

  When the guy first arrived and attached himself to her, jealousy pricked at Rick. But he’d recalled Summer’s words that a person who made you fight for him—or in this case her—wasn’t worth having. The adage made sense. And though the twangs continued throughout the afternoon as he watched her smile and converse, he realized they weren’t so much twangs of jealousy as they were twangs of remorse.

  He didn’t mind her smiling at the reporter—he just wanted her to smile at him, too. Her smile warmed his heart, and he missed that feeling.

  Cal Perry put his gear into his backpack, finally. Rick waited until he was pulling away in his car before he approached Summer.

  She heard him and turned his way, but the smile he was hoping for wasn’t present. She raised an eyebrow. “See? I told you it was a great idea.”

  “I never said it wasn’t a good idea.”

  His friend Sid at the planetarium had been none too pleased that he’d given up time in the middle of his day off when he found out they would have to rush through everything.

  Once the kids had loaded back onto the bus, Sid had chewed Rick’s ass thoroughly for his poor planning, making Rick wonder if he’d hurt his chances for the park ranger job he was hoping for this fall. He’d counted on Sid’s support, but now he wasn’t sure that was a given. It ate at him, and he shrugged noncommittally, still feeling the sting. “It was just bad timing.”

  “The timing was perfect, actually. Maybe Mom and Daddy will finally see that I’m capable of making good decisions for this place.” Her face broke into a smile of smug delight.

  “Is that what all this was about?” Irritation flickered in his gut again.

  “Proving myself?” She gave a curt nod. “Damn right.”

  Proving herself to Mommy and Daddy? Grabbing some glory for herself with no thought of the consequences to others? The flicker flared higher. She was acting like a spoiled brat, and it was time somebody called her on it. “That’s pretty selfish, don’t you think?”

  “Selfish?” Her smugness shifted to indignation.

  “You heard me. You’re thinking about Summer Delaney, not Camp Sunny Daze...not the kids.”

  “How can you say that?” she sputtered.

  “How can I not say that? Don’t you realize there’s a ripple effect in life? Things are related? You’re willing to waste educational time...time that could spark a lifelong interest...maybe even determine a life’s calling—” he included the entire camp with a sweep of his arms “—in order to prove you could make one good decision?”

  Her chin snapped higher at his use of the word one. “I would never preempt a true learning experience for the kids. I’m all for their learning early about life and finding their place in it.” She mimicked his arm sweep. “If you think anything different from that, you don’t know me very well.”

  “I thought I did. But you’re right. I don’t know you very well, apparently.”

  They stood in silence, eyes locked defiantly.

  Summer was about to say something—wanting to get in the last word, no doubt—when her gaze shifted beyond him and her face pinched in worry. Footfalls came up fast behind him.

  He swung around to meet Tara, breathless and pale. She gripped her cell phone so tightly her knuckles were white. “Summer, I need to go home.” Her voice quavered.

  “What’s wrong?” Summer’s hands gripped her friend’s shoulders. “What’s happened?”

  Tara held up the phone and shook her head. “I don’t know. My mom just called. She said not to worry...everybody’s okay and nobody’s hurt or anything, but I need to come home. They need to talk to me about something.”

  “That’s odd, isn’t it?” Summer voiced Rick’s exact thoughts. “What could it be?”

  “I don’t know.” Tara’s eyes filled with tears. “Unless they’re getting a divorce or something, but I can’t imagine that. I mean, with my dad being a preacher... They seem so happy and have never had any problem that I know of. ...” Her voice trailed off.

  “Go,” Summer insisted. “I’ll find Ginny and Charlie and tell them right now.”

  Rick stepped in. “I’ll find Ginny and Charlie. Y’all go take care of whatever you need to do.”

  Summer gave him one last glaring look before they took off in opposite directions.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  RICK SENSED HER FOUL MOOD. The tense lines between Summer’s brows remained fixed the rest of the evening and all the next day. Her eyes and mouth were tight even when she smiled—and she’d smiled often, though never at him. She’d totally avoided eye contact with him since their argument.

  Charlie had gotten up early, gone into town and had a souvenir copy of the Paducah Sun waiting for everyone at breakfast.

  While a small photo of Summer included a caption about Fairy Princess Parties, the newspaper did a remarkable job of making Camp Sunny Daze look like a piece of kid-heaven on Earth. All of the kids were included in at least one photo, but Howie and his mammoth molar scored top billing, firmly establishing the little boy’s celebrity status among his peers.

  Rick noted that even the kids who’d rolled their eyes at the youngster’s tall tales vied for a seat near him during morning snack, lunch, supper and bedtime snack. And with the wisdom of one who recognized the fickle nature of fame, Howie took it upon himself to group the kids into bunches of five and sat in the middle of one group each time.

  Rick smiled as Neil led the boys toward the bunkhouse for the night. Howie was in the middle of the band of brothers, a line of ten comrades, arms around one another’s shoulders as they marched along singing the Sunny Daze camp song.

  Although the girls were just as giddy, the party attitude didn’t extend to Summer. The attempt was there, but her raised, rigid shoulders spoke volumes. The one point of genuine pleasure he’d seen in her was when she presented Howie with his star. The boy’s grin split his face as he held it up and proudly proclaimed himself “just like Mr. Rick.”

  A shudder passed through Rick at the words. He hoped like hell the boy’s nights weren’t haunted by nightmares like his were.

  They allowed the kids to stay up later in celebration, so Rick canceled the staff meeting. It was for the best. His call to Sid to apologize had stirred up the cantankerous old man’s ire again and rekindled his own frustration with Summer’s antics. He could tell she was exhausted, having only Ginny’s limited help with the girls, so it was just as well they both had time to cool off.

  He watched her walk toward the girls’ bunkhouse, where she would spend another night in Tara’s room.

  With all the talking they’d done, how in the hell could he have missed her self-centeredness?

  The term how in the hell mocked him when he entered the stifling hot cabin. A threat of rain that morning had convinced him to close the windows, and he hadn’t been back, spending the hour of quiet time getting a few photos of the archery field and the Byassee homestead.

  He made quick work of opening all the windows, but it was going to take a while to cool the place down. Maybe a swim would cool his frustration, as well.

  “Another hot summer night, eh?” Kenny appeared out of nowhere when Rick stepped out onto the porch, making him wonder if the security guard had been waiting for him.

  Kenny loved to talk, so the long hours of the night shift probably passed slowly for him. Rick didn’t normally mind company, but he wasn’t up for small talk tonight. “Yeah.” He kept his answer monosyllabic so as not to give encouragement.

  “Speaking of hot Summer...” Kenny grinned and shrugged his eyebrows suggestively, which irritated the hell
out of Rick.

  “Off-limits,” he growled, and stalked off toward the beach.

  Kenny hurried after him. “Hey! Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He caught up, falling into step beside Rick. “Summer’s a great girl. Y’all need to work things out.”

  Hell-pee-roo. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  Kenny shrugged. “Just to me. It’s my job to watch what goes on around here.”

  If the comment was meant to make Rick feel better, it didn’t. He didn’t say anything and hoped Kenny would take the hint and leave him alone.

  But the security guard seemed bent on providing consolation whether Rick wanted it or not as he followed him down the path. “My girlfriend and I broke up for a couple of months ’bout two years ago. This girl I’d gone out with in high school showed up in town, and I—”

  “Shhh.” Rick grabbed Kenny’s arm and motioned with his head toward the cove and the sound he’d heard in the distance—a vehicle of some sort...from the grinding, most likely a pickup truck. A sound familiar in these parts, for sure, but he hadn’t heard one anywhere around since the camp opened.

  He and Kenny raced down the path to the beach.

  Headlights shone through the trees that bordered the beach on the far side of the cove. In the darkness, it was impossible to make out more than the vague outline of a pickup.

  “Fisherman?” Rick asked.

  “Nah.” Kenny shook his head. “Parkers, most likely.”

  The sound of a door slamming drifted across the water toward them.

  Kenny pulled his flashlight from his belt and tried to scan the far bank, but the light wasn’t quite strong enough to reach that distance.

  The door slammed again and headlights flashed back on. They soon disappeared, backing away from the trees.

  “Too much beer. Taking care of nature’s call. Been there myself lots of times.”

  Rick’s gut told him that wasn’t the case. “He wouldn’t have come so far off the main road.”

  “Well, whatever was taking place, it was off camp property and not really our concern.” Kenny dropped the flashlight down through the leather loop on his belt and headed back up the path.

  Rick followed him. “It was close, though, so keep an eye out and an ear to the ground tonight.”

  “I’ve told you before, it’s my job to keep watch over this place.” Kenny chuckled. “I’m real good at what I do.”

  * * *

  SUMMER WOKE IN A COLD SWEAT. Shivering, she drew the blanket closer under her chin, trying to remember the dream that could cause such a reaction.

  Or maybe it wasn’t the dream. Maybe it was waking up for the second night to the strange surroundings of Tara’s bedroom, wondering what had happened that shattered her friend’s world. Ginny had heard from her, at least. She said Tara would be back in the morning, but Ginny had added that she was crying when she phoned.

  While Summer was definitely concerned about her friend, more likely it was Rick Warren who was haunting her dreams. Waking up without him for the third morning and facing the fact that waking up with him might not be a possibility ever again made her shiver just thinking about it.

  Selfish.

  The word he’d used to describe her squeezed her heart and then moved down to squeeze her stomach just for good measure. She got up before she puked in Tara’s bed and went to the bathroom to apply a cold washcloth to her face. It kept her from throwing up, but didn’t stop the pain.

  She eyed her reflection in the mirror. There were plenty of men in the world, so how did she come to fall in love with one who didn’t understand what she was most passionate about?

  She peered deeper, shocked by the question. In love? Oh, for heaven’s sake...when had that happened? She’d been in love before, hadn’t she? But breaking up had never felt like this—like she was shriveling up inside...like something was squeezing all the important stuff out of her and leaving an empty shell in its place.

  Selfish. She’d been called that so many times in the past the word shouldn’t have any effect...and maybe it had been deserved then. But she wasn’t like that now. Why couldn’t anybody see that? Rick, of all people, surely should be able to see it...would be able to see it, if he loved her back.

  But he hadn’t seen it, and she had to face what that meant.

  She jerked away from the mirror and turned the shower on full force.

  An hour later, she and the girls approached the boys, who were waiting at the trailhead for the morning hike. Rick’s eyes locked with hers, the grim set of his mouth confirming he hadn’t changed his mind...about her...about anything.

  “Kenny and I saw a pickup in the woods across the cove last night.” He kept his voice low as they followed the group being led by Neil. “Might have been parkers, and we apparently scared them off. But...”

  He hesitated, and his reluctance to finish the sentence stopped Summer in her tracks. “But maybe it was someone planning to go digging for mammoth bones.”

  Ricked shrugged. “That idea did enter my mind.”

  A fierce, protective anger shot through her. “No one can do that!” She turned and paced the opposite direction to gain more distance from the kids. “The mammoth molar was found on my property!” she spewed. “My parents’ property. Whoever it was has no right!”

  “Thieves generally aren’t great respecters of other people’s rights.” Rick had followed her.

  His hand slipped around her bicep to slow her down, but she jerked out of the grip, pulling the cell phone from her pocket. “I’m calling Sheriff Blaine right now—”

  Rick snatched the phone from her hand and stopped the call. “I’ve already spoken with him.”

  “And?”

  “And he said he doesn’t have enough deputies to patrol areas accessible only by water with any consistency. He’ll do what he can, but that’s not going to be much. Marshall County has miles and miles of shoreline, and the areas that don’t have residents near are always going to be a problem.”

  Summer’s mind whirred. She turned again to follow the campers. She walked fast out of frustration and to catch up. “We’re only talking three more nights until this session is over. Then Dr. Shelton’s group will be here. I’ll sleep down on the beach if I have to.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  Her jaws clenched at Rick’s commanding tone.

  “Why don’t we move the group after-dark activities to the beach?” he suggested. “Then Kenny can keep watch down there the rest of the night. That’s really all we can do.”

  His words conjured memories of the after-dark activities the two of them had enjoyed on the beach, and she swallowed hard. How long would it take until those thoughts stopped popping unbidden into her head?

  Stop it. She mentally slapped herself. More pressing matters were at hand. She didn’t have time to moon over a man who thought the worst of her.

  “After lights-out, I’ll stay on the beach until I’m ready to go to bed,” Rick said. “And then Kenny will include the area in his rounds every half hour or so.”

  “I’ll stay on the beach,” she corrected. “It isn’t right for you to give up your own time for this.”

  Rick seemed unaffected by her insistence. “I don’t want you down there alone. We’ll stay on the beach together.”

  Hours alone on the beach with Rick? That would be torture her heart couldn’t bear. It threatened to gallop away now merely at the thought. She could hear the blood pulsing in her ears. “No. This isn’t your problem. It’s my problem, and I’ll handle it.” She cast a sidelong glance at him. The muscle in his jaw twitched, but he said nothing.

  Neil turned onto the path that led to the Byassee homestead, and Summer’s breathing finally caught up with her stride. This was where she needed to be. The place and its guardian angels would calm her.

  The past two mornings, they’d been treated to the view of a skulk of red foxes that had made a den in the old house. A vixen and six kits—Rick made sure everyone called the
m by the correct names—identical in their furry red coats and white-tipped tails. Mama would scurry out each morning as she heard the group approach and make for the woods, leading her babies to safety.

  This morning, the vixen didn’t appear, leaving the kids disappointed, but an apprehensive twinge ran between Summer’s shoulder blades.

  “She probably moved ’em,” Carlos suggested. “My cat moved her kittens. My mom said we bothered ’em too much.”

  “I’ll bet you’re right, Carlos.” Rick smiled his approval at the boy’s observation, but Summer couldn’t shake her odd feeling. The area was too quiet.

  “But look who’s here.” Neil pointed to a log that had four box turtles nestled beside it.

  While the campers got a short lesson on the species from Rick, Summer ambled toward the back of the house. A couple of minutes by herself in the peaceful sanctuary should slow the world down some.

  The bit of fur, fluffed by the morning breeze, drew her eye and then sucked her breath completely out of her lungs.

  One of the kits. Dead. Run over. Tracks in the grass showed a vehicle had turned in from the old roadbed.

  Summer’s head swam, and she leaned against the wall that had once held the back door, letting the anger and frustration rush through her. Someone had been here yesterday. Last night. A low hum nearby called her attention to a spot of golden brown liquid that stained the wall, and was now covered with flies. A broken whiskey bottle lay in the weeds below.

  Was it the same person who’d been across the cove? Had the news story brought him here? Anguish nipped at her heart. This was her fault.

  Looking at the dead kit brought the bitter taste of bile into her throat. All those years, this place had been isolated and quiet. That someone had been here the night the story was in the paper seemed too big a coincidence. In her haste to garner attention, she hadn’t considered any bad consequences. Her selfishness had caused this. All of it. Her knees grew weak at the thought.

  Willing her legs not to buckle under her, she half staggered back around to the front of the cabin. Rick glanced up over the heads of the kids. When his eyes locked with hers, he seemed to read her mind.