“Rainbow Crow flew and flew as fast as he could, afraid the fire would go out before he reached Earth.”
Summer filled her eyes with the striking image Rick posed. An exterior chiseled out of granite, yet a touch tender enough to calm a scared child...or melt a woman’s heart. Hers.
“Too close to the sun and his beautiful rainbow tail feathers were scorched black...”
Even now, she wanted to undo the leather laces holding his shirt closed and press against the taut ripples of his stomach. Wanted to pull a feather from his headdress and stroke it along his length, drawing grunts of pleasure.
“Too close to the moon, which scorched the lovely feathers on his wings and body to a dull black, also...”
She wanted to look him straight in the eye and tell him she was crazy for being so crazy about him...but looking at him turned her brain matter to goo.
“The smoke burned his throat until his beautiful voice was choked out...”
Pulling her eyes away from Rick, she picked up a stick and scratched in the dirt at her feet. Next week, when there wouldn’t be any kids, and she’d had time to get over the shock of losing the camp and her life’s dream, they’d be able to talk...without all the drama.
“Because of his unselfish acts, the Creator coated the crow’s charred, black feathers with a beautiful gloss that would still show the rainbow colors when the sun hit them. And the Creator made the crow’s meat taste bad like smoke so that man wouldn’t be tempted to hunt him.”
Summer’s upper teeth gnawed a piece of skin from her bottom lip. She hadn’t told Rick her dream of owning the camp. He’d acted based on what he thought she wanted.
Another drip trickled inside.
“Each time you see a crow, remember the sacrifice he made, and how he put the other animals’ needs before his own.”
Just like you, Rick...like you always do. Forever faithful...Semper fi.
She sighed, not wanting to wait until tomorrow when the kids were gone to talk. She couldn’t. She wanted to talk to him...make things right between them...tonight.
A long breath expanded her lungs, filling the space in her chest and warming it, making it feel not nearly so cold or hollow.
“We stand and unite our hearts by the joining of our hands,” Rick said, motioning everyone to their feet, and she was relieved for some action to shake her out of her lethargy.
They stood, each one clasping the hands of the person next to him or her.
A vibration of excitement thrummed through the group as Rick turned to face the trees, raising his arms and his voice. “The sign of fire from the unselfish act of Rainbow Crow to forever remind us of the unity of our hearts even as we walk the separate pathways of our lives.”
The echo of his voice sent an uncomfortable shiver up Summer’s spine. She didn’t want a separate pathway from Rick. Every part of her wanted unity—especially her pretty heart.
And then, even though she’d been in on all the planning, astonishment filled her, and she gasped right along with the kids as a flaming fireball shot out of the sky. The fire pit at the edge of the beach burst forth in flames.
Carlos’s and M&M’s grips tightened on each side of her, their eyes wide with wonder. After the initial shock, they regained their wits, and their hands, still clasped, shot into the air along with cheers. The campers’ awe soon gave way to a deluge of questions centered around “How’d he do that?” while Summer and Tara shrugged in response.
The kids didn’t need to know that the fireball was actually a roll of toilet tissue Neil had soaked in kerosene and lighted before sliding it down the monofilament line to the fire pit.
Let them believe in the magic.
Neil appeared out of the woods along with Ginny and Charlie, carrying a tray of Hershey bars, marshmallows and graham crackers for s’mores.
The kids toasted marshmallows on sticks that Charlie had whittled into points as Summer and Rick guarded the fire pit area to make sure no one got stabbed, stuck, burned or pushed. The others helped with assembly of the treats.
Summer was sweltering, standing so near the fire in the fairy princess costume. But the sight of Rick dressed in buckskin, rugged and sexy with his tanned skin burnished by the glow of the firelight, drew her unwittingly like a moth.
He seemed distracted...didn’t look her way—not once. Damn him and the way he made her feel. Totally confused, she didn’t know what her future held. And yet, more sure than she’d ever been, she wanted Rick to be in it.
“Great story, Rick,” she called over the fire, hating being ignored by him.
“Thanks. Yours, too.”
Silence.
She tried again. “Where’d you get the costume?”
“Mom drove to Oklahoma.”
A bead of sweat trickled between her breasts and onto her stomach as the last child marched away from the fire.
Her breath caught as Rick moved her way, but the smile froze on her lips when he brushed past her as if she wasn’t there and went to join the rest of the group.
Sheesh! He was driving her insane!
“Can we play hide-and-seek, Mr. Rick?” Howie’s tongue snaked out to lick a smear of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “P-please? One last t-time?”
The emotion in the boy’s voice and eyes made a bite of Hershey bar stick in Summer’s throat. This had been a special time for him—a time to bask in some glory. Be the star. Earn his star. A time of learning, acceptance...safety. Tomorrow he would go back home...to what? Had his mom decided to give Howie, Sr., another chance? So often, abused women did.
Summer shuddered, wishing the camp could go on forever for Howie.
“Tell you what.” Rick tousled the boy’s hair with such a fatherly gesture, Summer’s eyes stung. “How ’bout the counselors be ‘it’ this time, and all the kids can hide.”
“Yeah!”
“When we find you, go sit in the pavilion until everybody’s in,” Neil instructed as the kids scurried away.
Ginny and Charlie gathered what was left of the snacks onto the trays and headed to the kitchen.
Rick drew his comrades into a small circle as he began counting, and Summer felt childish, wishing she could stand by him.
Tara laughed. “We look like a prayer group.”
“Oh, Lord, we want to thank you for these children,” Neil intoned below Rick’s counting. “And thank you that our time with them is drawing to an end. Mmm-hmm. It’s been a fine time we’ve had here, Lord, with these fine children, who’ve blessed us with their antics. Blessed us so that the stars in our crowns have been given a greater chance to multiply with each and every passing day.”
Summer and Tara ruptured with laughter at Neil’s last statement as Rick called out, “Thirty!”
“Let’s make this quick, y’all,” he said, and Summer noticed that his eyes slid over her, but landed briefly on Neil and Tara. She hurried away in response. The sooner they found everybody, the sooner they could get them in bed and the sooner she could talk to Rick alone.
Would he talk to her? Her mouth went dry. Maybe not. But he’d have to listen. He couldn’t ignore her forever.
Without even having to discuss it, the counselors fanned out in different directions as they headed away from the beach into the trees surrounding the camp.
Most of the kids hid behind the large trees and, although they tried sneaking around the sides, were easily spotted by one of the adults. A few braved the relative darkness to hide in the shadows of the buildings. They seemed the most relieved when they got found.
It didn’t take long until everybody was in except for Lucy and, as usual, Howie.
Tara and Neil stayed at the pavilion with the large group as Rick went around the dining hall toward the storm shelter. Summer searched the opposite direction.
At the edge of the woods, a hand caught her arm. “Aaiiee!” Summer let out a startled yelp. “Lucy, you scared me.”
“Ms. Summer, I know we’re not supposed to tattle...” The c
hild bit her bottom lip.
“What is it, Lucy?” She didn’t have time for one of Lucy’s whiny accusations of being left out. The sooner they found Howie...
“Howie went in the woods.” Lucy’s chin buckled in aggravation.
Summer didn’t relish the idea of traipsing through the woods in her fairy princess dress. “Are you sure?” She squinted and tilted her head to let the child know this was no time for games.
“I promise, Ms. Summer.” Lucy traced a quick cross over her heart. “He went in there.”
Summer’s eyes followed the child’s pointing finger—to the path that went by the Byassee place. A cold dread filled her as she remembered her frightening premonition. Something bad could be out there again tonight. Howie had a good head start...might already be walking into danger. She pulled a small flashlight from the pocket of her dress and kept her voice calm, trying not to scare the child. “I’m going toward the Byassee place, Lucy. You tell Mr. Rick, okay?”
Whether or not Rick followed, she knew this path well enough to walk it blindfolded if she had to.
Not waiting for Lucy’s answer, she hiked up her costume and ran.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“HOWIE! C’MON IN, BUD. You’ve won again.” Rick listened but there was no answer. No feet scuffing in the dirt. No branches cracking. “Howie, did you hear me?” he tried again. The voices of the other children calling Howie drifted around the buildings.
It wasn’t like the boy to stay hidden this long. Usually, by the time they confirmed him as the winner, he was anxious to take his victory lap.
He had been quiet all afternoon...not showing his usual enthusiasm during the zip-lining, hanging back in line rather than pushing to the front like he normally did. At the time, Rick had wondered if perhaps he was afraid of the zip lines. But looking back on the rest of the evening, the boy had been silent throughout dinner and the stories. In fact, Rick couldn’t recall that he’d said anything since mail call. He’d been embarrassed by Reggie’s teasing but that hardly seemed the type of thing that would upset him for very long. He generally shrugged anger off pretty quickly.
Something else was going on. Dreading going home? Afraid his mom and dad might have gotten back together while he was gone? Rick’s insides coiled. If Howie were worried about his dad coming back to live with him, would he hide out to try to prolong going home? Worse yet, would he run away?
Rick beat a hasty retreat back to the pavilion, trying not to jump to conclusions. They were dealing with a nine-year-old. The thickly wooded area around the camp would let in only a minimal amount of starlight...a pretty scary place for a kid to tackle alone.
“Still no Howie, huh?” Rick’s quick headcount answered his question.
Tara shook her head, worry tightening her eyes. “Neil’s gone down to the beach.” She kept her voice low. “He thought maybe Howie stayed behind down there while we were counting.”
Rick understood leaving no stone unturned, but Howie had never broken the rules about where they could hide, and the beach—or anywhere near the water—had always been strictly off-limits.
Rick scanned the area, deciding how to divide up the space for a search. “Where’s Summer?”
Tara pointed in the general direction behind the cabins. “The last time I saw her, she was looking for him over there.”
“I know where she is.”
The small voice beside them caused Rick and Tara both to look down in surprise. Lucy looked at them wide-eyed and shrugged. “I didn’t want to be a cheater, but I thought if I followed Howie, maybe I could win this time.” She sighed dramatically. “But he went into the woods, so I told Ms. Summer. She’s gone after him.”
“Which way did she go?” Rick’s fingers gouged into the skin on his hips as his grip tightened involuntarily.
Lucy pointed to the dark path beyond Rick’s cabin. “I’m supposed to tell you she’s going toward the busy place.”
“The busy place?” Rick looked to Tara for a translation. “What does that mean?”
“The busy place.” A whine entered Lucy’s voice. “The old house where the foxes live.”
“The Byassee place!” A coldness gripped Rick’s insides as he remembered the dead fox kit and the broken whiskey bottle.
“That’s what I said.” Lucy pointed toward the path that snaked through the dark woods.
Rick walked casually in the direction Lucy pointed.
But once within the trees and under the cover of darkness, he ran. His legs pumped furiously, working to keep up with the frantic beating of his heart.
* * *
SUMMER DIDN’T HESITATE WHEN she reached the turnoff to the Byassee place, but she did slow to a walk purely out of necessity. Trying to move fast in her costume was like swimming against the tide. A stitch in her side caught on every intake of ragged breath.
“How-wie?” she called, trying to coax the child out of hiding, and trying to warn anyone hanging out at the Byassee place she was on the way in, giving them a chance to grab their whiskey and make a quick exit.
Any other time, the sounds from the frogs and cicadas would be welcoming. Tonight, she wished they’d shut up. The small beam of light helped, but vision was still limited. It would be her hearing that would alert her to Howie’s presence—she cleared her throat of the dry lump—or anyone else’s.
She reached the clearing and stopped. The ramshackle old cottage stood before her, swathed in shadow. A barely crescent moon gave little illumination...and yet, too much. She’d never considered how the two empty windows on each side of the doorway might take on the appearance of staring eyes and a mouth gaping in horror.
Fear tightened the muscles at the back of her throat, and swallowing didn’t help much. Would Howie come this far? They’d been here often, so he was familiar with this area, but it seemed over the top, even for the little attention-seeker.
A movement behind the house brought her to a stop. Just a fleeting shadow, but enough to drag a cold finger up her spine. Maybe an animal. Maybe her imagination. Or maybe the child...hurt...scared?
“Howie? Is that you?” She inched around the front corner of the house. “You can come out now. The game’s over.” A rustle in the woods brought her to attention and she flashed the beam that direction. She strained, but her eyes couldn’t discern anything beyond the edge of light. Keeping her palm pressed against the wall, she began to move again, hesitantly, toward the back of the house.
The glint of moonlight on metal stopped her shy of the back corner. A truck. Parked in the driveway. Painted in camouflage.
She smelled him before she felt him, a sickening mixture of body odor and whiskey with undertones of pot. Her mind screamed at her to run, but her feet froze to the spot. She gasped as a hand gripped her upper arm, jerking her around and shoving her back against the stone wall, making her drop the flashlight. The wire frame of one of her wings snapped. Its sharp point stabbed below her shoulder blade.
“You got tha’ right, bitch. Game’s over, sure as hell.”
His hot, rank breath bathed her face, along with a spray of spit. Her stomach convulsed, and she swallowed hard.
“Where’s my boy? Why you callin’ him?”
My boy? “Y-you’re Howie’s dad.”
“Tha’s right.” He nodded and the movement caused him to sway. His fingers tightened around her arm as he stumbled against her. “Is ’e lost? Wha’ve you done with ’im?”
She fought the urge to wince, her gut telling her that this guy preyed on weakness, used pain to intimidate.
He wasn’t a big man. Medium height and thin—skinny, actually. Wobbly on his feet. A hard shove might knock him down and give her a chance to run. But the grip on her arm might take her down with him. If he got her on the ground... She shuddered.
His head tilted, and his mouth curled into a sneer. “Where’s ’e? Th’ li’l bastard bet’r not’ve tol’ you ’bout our plan.”
He lowered his eyes until they were level with hers, and she c
ould read the range of his emotions. Rage...fear...desperation. Of the three, the last was the most frightening. A desperate man was capable of anything. She had no chance against him, but Rick would. Rick could take him out with one swipe. Where was he? Had they found Howie yet? Surely Rick would come looking for her... If she could just stall.
Despite the stench, she took a deep breath, trying to control her trembling knees that kept threatening to buckle. “I don’t know anything about a plan. We were playing hide-and-seek.”
Howard Gerard’s voice settled into a menacing growl. “Don’t lie t’ me!” He jerked her away from the wall and threw her in the direction of the truck. She didn’t have time to pull her skirt up. Her feet caught in the hem, pitching her forward onto her knees. She struggled to get up, once again aware of a tight grip around her bicep, hauling her onto her feet. “Tell me where he’s at.”
“Don’t hurt her, Dad.” A timid voice drifted out of the darkness. “I’m here.” The vise around her arm dropped away as Howie crept slowly from the shadow of the opposite side of the house.
“Why’d you come early, boy?” The threat of a beating lay in the tone.
Howie’s shoulders absorbed his scrawny neck as he cowered, looking like a whipped puppy. “I wasn’t sure...wasn’t sure I could get past...past Mr. Kenny. I thought this’d be better. I knew you’d be here already.” His eyes darted toward Summer.
Was the lie as obvious to Howard Gerard as it was to her? Howie had been there all along...led them to his dad...waited, hoping...
“Git ’n the truck.”
The child moved quickly to obey.
Adrenaline shot through Summer’s veins. “He isn’t going anywhere with you!” She lunged at the man, catching his side with her shoulder like she’d seen football players tackle the opponent. His reaction time was stymied, giving her the advantage. She watched the ground coming up to meet them, felt the air forced from her lungs as they landed in a twisted heap.
Howard Gerard threw her off him with a roar, and she hit the ground a second time. She scrambled to rise, but the costume tangled around her legs, slowing her down. By the time she got squared on her feet, so had he.
The Summer Place Page 24
