The Summer Place

CHAPTER ELEVEN



“BY USING APPLESAUCE INSTEAD of vegetable oil, we still have moist and tender zucchini bread but without all the icky fats.” Summer cut the slices into fourths and offered each of the girls a piece to taste. “Tell me what you think.”

She watched closely for the reactions. Lucy scrunched her nose up, but eventually nibbled a bite. M&M gobbled hers down like she did everything. Greta took a bite and contemplated her answer.

It was interesting how well Summer had gotten to know these kids. She knew exactly what the reactions were going to be before they indicated them. They’d become predictable, although she still couldn’t figure out who the winner of tonight’s wand was going to be.

Shannon had the twins’ backing, but Amanda had a following of her own. Summer was anxious to see who carried the most clout because determining who held the most respect or perhaps power would tell her a lot about the values and personality of the group as a whole. She would gain insights on where to go from here in their fairy princess training.

“Do you like it?” Tara asked.

Most nodded, a couple gave thumbs-ups, some remained more guarded, but none openly objected.

Summer took that to mean it was a hit. “I’ll take some out to the boys. If they like it, too, Ms. Ginny said she’ll use it to make a special French toast for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Who’s ready for a swim?” Tara asked, and was met by an exuberant cheer. “Let’s go get changed, then.” She herded the girls out of the dining hall just as Rick finished up the tae kwon do with the boys.

Summer made quick work of cutting more zucchini bread and getting it on the tray. Rick was almost to his cabin by the time she got outside, but she called to Neil, “I want the boys to try this, then I’ll send them on in.”

Neil nodded and went ahead into the dorm. The boys gathered around as Summer offered the pieces. “Zucchini bread. What do you think?”

The pieces disappeared quickly until Howie spoke up. “Who made this?”

“The girls,” Summer answered.

“Ewww.” Howie made a retching sound and pulled his hand away from the piece he was about to pick up. “Girls touched it means it’s got cooties.”

“Oh, Howie, don’t be silly.” Summer rolled her eyes. “You touched a girl when you danced last night.”

Howie stuck out his tongue and exaggerated a shiver. “And I had to take a shower as soon as I got back to the bunkhouse to wash all the cooties off.”

“That’s not very nice, Howie.” Summer didn’t want to make too big a deal of this, but she also didn’t want him to think this behavior was okay.

“I’ll take his piece if he ain’t gonna eat it,” Austin volunteered.

“Isn’t going to eat it,” Summer corrected.

Howie leaned toward Jimbo, making his voice high and girlish. “Isn’t going to eat it,” he mocked.

“Howie.” Summer used a warning tone.

The boy whispered something too low for her to hear it.

“What was that?” she asked.

Howie pointed at her and cackled. “Ms. Summer used the W-H-A-T word. That’s the nerd word.”

The boys fell into a fit of laughter.

“Oo-rah!” Howie yelled, and pumped his fist, which made the boys laugh louder.

“Howie, stop with the disrespect.” Summer’s face heated. She was about to demand an apology when Neil let loose with a whistle and the boys scattered in his direction.

She watched them leave, her mind whirring. The other day Tara had mentioned Howie’s escalating disrespect, and that it always seemed to happen when the men weren’t around.

Well, the boy’s father had probably given him permission to act this way, but it was time he learned some new lessons. He needed fairy princess training in the worst way.

She would bring it up at tonight’s staff meeting, and she’d be watching very closely to Rick’s reaction. That would be the perfect way of judging whether he really got her, or if he just wanted her.

* * *

“SHE SOUNDS BRAND-NEW, Charlie.” Summer gave a thumbs-up to the steady purr of the old bus’s motor.

Charlie nodded. “Told ya. Ginny’s nephew might not be the sharpest tack in the box, but he’s a top-notch mechanic. We’ll get her painted before next year. He says he can do that, too.”

When her parents told her they’d purchased an old school bus for the camp, Summer thought it was a frivolous expense. But now she had to admit, it was a great idea. The area around Kentucky Lake was teeming with educational experiences for the kids, and the field trips they’d planned would be nice breaks from the same old surroundings.

Rick had arranged this first one. Some friends of his who lived not too far away—the same people Sheriff Blaine had referred to yesterday morning—owned a piece of land that contained a cave inhabited by some rare kind of bat. The Brennans agreed to host the camp kids for the evening on a bat-sighting adventure.

Summer swung the door open as the boys approached the bus.

Neil got on first. “Huhh!” He grabbed his chest in feigned terror when he saw Summer at the wheel.

“Don’t.” She gave him a no-nonsense look. The male counselors needed to be careful of the messages they were sending, too.

Carlos and Jimbo got on after Neil, and then Howie came up the steps. “Ick! A girl bus driver?”

“Girls can do anything boys can, Howie, and I’m not a girl. I’m a woman.” Summer flipped her thumb over her shoulder. “You’re holding up the line. Keep moving. All the way to the back.”

The rest of the boys found seats quickly. Rick was the last one to get on.

His shocked look wasn’t faked. His eyes went big, and jumped from Summer to Charlie and back. “You’re driving us?” His tone echoed disbelief.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Summer raised an indignant eyebrow and nodded. “Y’all could all use some serious fairy princess training.”

“Here, Rick.” Charlie vacated the seat behind the driver and moved across the aisle to sit with Ginny. “You sit there, so you can give Summer directions.”

Rick leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “You really know how to drive one of these?”

Summer rolled her eyes and slipped the gearshift to Reverse. “I drove an old school bus for a tour company on Cape Cod for two summers. This one’s a Cadillac compared to those.”

As the girls started a loud rendition of the Sunny Daze camp song, she made eye contact with Rick in the rearview mirror and watched his mouth rise at one end. He leaned closer. “Something you left out last night?”

“Oh, I left out a lot last night.” She backed up enough to get out of the parking space, shifted into First and eased the bus down the drive. “Now, which way do I turn?”

The girls continued to sing, but the boys didn’t join in. She couldn’t lay all the blame on the men. It was probably as much her fault as it was theirs since she and Rick had gotten off to such a bad start. But this group needed more cohesion. The boy-versus-girl mentality had gone too far.

Rick’s friends’ house was only a few miles away, and the trip took much less time than Summer had expected. Before she knew it, Rick directed her up a gravel lane that wound through a stand of ancient trees and eventually opened in front of a beautiful old farmhouse.

When the bus appeared, a man and woman stood and waved from the shady porch. The man lunged to grab up a little boy who was about to make a dash toward the bus. The little boy wiggled in protest, but a chocolate Lab came running from behind the house, wagging her tail and barking an enthusiastic greeting.

“That’s Chesney,” Rick told the excited kids. “She’ll stay out of the way, Summer. Just pull the bus on around the drive.”

“Amanda’s allergic to dogs,” Summer reminded him.

“So is Jimbo. I called Chance yesterday and told him. He’s putting Ches in the garage.”

Even as Rick spoke, Summer could see the dark-haired man pulling the reluctant dog by the collar toward a large garage.

She brought the bus to a stop, and Rick led the kids off in single file. Summer brought up the rear. By the time she got out, the man named Chance had successfully sequestered the dog and was headed toward the group. The little boy, who looked to be about three, wiggled around in his father’s arms and held his own arms out toward Rick. “Rick! I want Rick!” he cried. When his father put him down, he headed straight for Rick’s waiting arms.

Rick scooped him up and gave him a hug that was so sweet to watch a lump of emotion clogged Summer’s throat. This was a side of him she hadn’t seen. Gone was the soldier, replaced by a man capable of showing affection in front of a large crowd without any qualms.

“Everybody, this is Hank,” Rick said. The little boy gave the group a wave.

The man had made it to Rick’s side by then, and they shook hands warmly. “And this is Hank’s dad, Chance Brennan. You can call him Mr. Chance.”

By Summer’s standards, Chance Brennan was handsome—devastatingly so. Dark hair. Black eyes. About the same height as Rick, but a bit leaner. A physique to match Rick’s...almost. Looking at them standing side by side was like being at a fantasy smorgasbord. Something for everybody.

Chance welcomed the group and told the kids they could mill around for a few minutes until his wife returned. “Our nine-month-old twin girls just went down for a nap. Kyndal’s checking on them,” he explained.

Rick made individual introductions between Chance and the adults in the group while the kids played a game of freeze tag.

Was it Summer’s imagination that a flash of recognition lit Chance’s eyes when Rick introduced her? “I’m glad to meet you, Summer.” Chance’s low voice was warm and mellow like his handshake, and Summer liked him immediately. “Your parents own the camp, right?”

“That’s right.” What else had Rick told him about her? “Thank you so much for having us.”

“It’s our pleasure.” His glance shifted above her head. “There’s Kyndal.”

Kyndal Brennan’s long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that swung from side to side as she made her way quickly to Rick’s side, welcoming him with a bear hug around his waist. He shifted Hank to one side and squeezed Kyndal about the shoulders with his free arm, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

The ease with which Rick showed affection to these people was certainly an eye-opener. Summer had wondered if his gentle side only came out when he was pursuing a female, but obviously he wasn’t nearly the hard-ass she had him pegged as. He smiled and her breath, which she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, left her in a rush.

Once again, Rick made the introductions and when he got to Summer, Kyndal’s head tilted momentarily in question. “You’re the fairy princess?”

“That’s me.” So Rick had told them some things about her. Was it about the Summer he couldn’t stand or the one he’d grown to like?

“I think our girls—” Kyndal pointed to the baby monitor attached to her belt “—are going to love you in a few years.” She flashed Summer a genuine smile that made Summer feel like they’d known each other a long time...and gave her the answer to how she’d been portrayed to them by Rick.

“I hope so,” Summer answered.

Just then, a heavy arm slid across her shoulders and Rick spoke low in her ear. “Let’s get the kids rounded up, okay? I’d like to get started.”

Summer nodded and his arm dropped away. But when she looked back at Kyndal, the young woman’s face broke into a wide, knowing grin, and she gave Summer a wink.

Summer winked back, feeling like they’d shared some secret. She liked this woman. She believed they could become good friends if given the opportunity.

After a few calls and whistles, they had the kids seated in a semicircle on the grass in the Brennans’ backyard. A concrete structure jutted out of the ground with a door built on a slant into it.

The campers had spent so much time Friday night in the storm shelter at the camp, showing them another one seemed silly. “Another storm cellar?” she whispered to Rick, wrinkling her nose.

“Trust me,” he whispered back.

“Does anybody know what this is?” Chance asked, pointing to the structure. His dark eyes scanned the crowd and a grin illuminated his face when everyone’s hand went up.

Howie waved his hand frantically and was rewarded when Chance pointed to him. “It’s a storm shelter. We were in one of those during the storm the other night.” The boy sat back with a look of satisfaction on his face before blurting, “My dad’s going to build us one of those.”

“We need to talk about Howie,” she whispered, and Rick’s eyebrow shot up in question. She shook her head. “Not now.”

“You’re right. It is a storm shelter,” Chance was saying, and the boy’s face beamed with smug satisfaction. “But this isn’t an average storm shelter. This door also leads into an underground cave.”

A collective gasp of surprise moved through the group.

“Have any of you ever been in a cave?” Chance asked, and three hands went up, including Howie’s, which was once again waving.

Before Chance could call on him, Howie was already talking. “My dad says he’s gonna take me to some cave that’s big and famous and has snowballs in it!”

“He’s talking about Mammoth Cave. It’s only a couple of hours from here,” Chance explained. “It doesn’t really have snowballs, but there is a huge room called the Snowball Dining Room that’s covered in white quartz crystals, so it looks like snowballs are stuck to the walls and ceiling.”

Howie’s hand shot up again, but Neil leaned down and said something to him and the boy dropped his hand, disappointment etched on his face.

The look weighed on Summer’s heart.

“Well, caves can be dangerous.” Chance’s face grew serious. “My wife and I got lost in this cave a few years ago. We entered the cave about a quarter mile from here, not planning on going very deeply into it. But a piece of the floor broke, and Kyndal and I fell into a subterranean passage. Do you know what that means?”

“A path that’s underground,” M&M said.

“That’s right.” Chance nodded. “And Kyndal broke her ankle in the fall.”

Hank squirmed in his mother’s arms and she put the child down. He ran to Rick, who picked him up. “We have to be quiet while Daddy’s talking, bud,” Rick whispered, and the child nodded.

Summer smiled to herself, noticing how her once-frosty attitude toward him had melted into a warm puddle that seemed to linger in her belly now.

“Beneath where we’re standing is a little room that was built a long, long time ago by the Native Americans who lived in this area.”

“My dad says we’re part Indian,” Howie said.

Chance smiled patiently. “A lot of people around here are, and that makes the little room very special. Mr. Rick led the rescue team that found us and saved our lives.”

Another gasp of surprise moved through the group and all eyes turned to look at Rick. He shifted uncomfortably. A spontaneous round of applause caused his face to blush redder than Summer thought possible. This was the same rescue Sheriff Blaine mentioned yesterday—and Rick had been embarrassed then, too.

When the applause quieted down, Chance finished his story. “Kyndal and I want to keep this ancient room safe, so we don’t allow many people to see it. But we’re going to take you all down a few at a time to look at it.” An excited titter passed through the campers.

“You won’t be allowed to go into the room,” Kyndal added. “But you can stick your head in the opening, and look around. We’ve put some lanterns in there so you can see.”

“Okay, y’all, let’s line up,” Rick said, and the kids scrambled into two lines. Summer watched with pride as the girls lined up alphabetically, just as quickly as the boys did.

Chance opened the door, which revealed a set of concrete steps descending into the subterranean cavern. He motioned to Neil and Tara, and the three of them went down first, while Summer and Rick stayed near the back of the lines.

Kyndal came over to them. “Hank, did you show Rick the surprise you found this afternoon?”

“No, Mommy. I go get it!” The three-year-old zoomed off on his errand.

Summer squeezed Rick’s hand. “That was some story.”

He gave a modest shrug and pointed to his friend. “Kyndal’s a photographer. She captured the entire event with her camera, and then she and Chance wrote a book about it. It’s fascinating.”

“And available at all the local bookstores.” Kyndal laughed. “I’ve become an expert at shameless self-promotion.”

Summer vaguely remembered hearing about the story around town a few years back. “I’ll have to get a copy. I’d love to read it.”

“I’ll give you a copy,” Rick offered. “I’ve got five signed by the authors.”

Hank came running up, proudly gripping a box turtle, and Rick sat down on the lawn to hear the little boy’s story of its capture. A squawk from the monitor on Kyndal’s hip sent her scurrying into the house.

Summer moved around the group of campers, listening to the exuberant chatter from the kids as they emerged from the dark hole in the ground. The ancient room was a hit. The anticipation of seeing it herself made her heart beat a bit faster.

When everyone had a turn, she and Rick were the only ones left.

Rick had Hank in his arms again as they descended into the dimly lit cavern where Chance waited. With each step, the scent of damp earth became more pronounced, and the temperature dipped a few degrees. Summer moved slowly, allowing her eyes to adjust from the twilight outside to the near-dark inside.

As they got to the bottom of the steps, the child started to wail. “No, Daddy. I don’t want to. I want to pway wif de kids. Pwease, Daddy?”

Chance took his son into his arms and raised an eyebrow toward Rick. “I’ll take Hank back up. Think you two can find your way around by yourselves?”

Rick laughed and nodded. “I know my way around this place pretty well.”

Chance clapped him on the shoulder with a broad grin. “Take your time, and go on in the room. We’ve got a half hour still before it’s time for the bats.”

As Chance ascended the steps, Rick reached out to Summer and pulled her to him. His mouth pressed hers, kissing her thoroughly and leaving her breathless.

While she brought her respiration under control, he pointed to a small opening in the side wall of the cave that glowed from the lantern light within. “There are paintings on the walls and animal pelts cover the floors. We suspect the Native Americans used it for fertility rites.”

Summer was shocked by his words. “A room for making love?”

He nodded and the thought sent her heart into overdrive.

She looked at him and saw her own reaction reflected in his eyes.

“Um...” Rick cleared his throat. “Maybe I’ll just mosey on back upstairs. You take as long as you want.”

She nodded. “Good idea.” Her pulse didn’t return to normal until he was completely out of sight.

* * *

RICK SAW JUPITER emerging as the first object in the night sky. “Won’t be long now,” he told the group.

“They’re not as predictable as Old Faithful,” Chance said. “But they have to eat, and they do that as soon as it gets dark.” He took the few spare minutes to tell the kids about the vandalism the cave had received.

It was a good lesson for the kids to hear. It might keep them from defacing property in the disgraceful way Chance and Kyndal’s cave had suffered a few years back when it was a prime party place for local teens bent on drinking and mischief.

Rick watched Summer’s face, intent on Chance’s words. Her eyes flashed with anger as Chance relayed the story of the names scrawled in spray paint on the walls just inside the entrance.

Her face was so expressive. He swallowed hard, remembering the heat that registered in her eyes outside the ancient room. He would have given his right arm to have had a couple of hours to remove her clothing one item at a time and slowly explore each area as it was exposed.

An odd rumbling sound—thunder forced through a giant sieve until it shattered—filled the air, jerking his thoughts out of their delightful reverie.

“Here they come,” Chance called, and at that moment the entrance to the cave blackened with a mass that moved as one entity across the open space, then broke into what seemed like millions of pieces as they reached the tree line and scattered.

Though he’d seen it many times, the sight of the bats never ceased to fill Rick with a sense of awe, which made him appreciate Summer’s reaction even more. She squeezed his hand, and her breast brushed the back of his arm as she bounced up and down with excitement.

The turbulent breeze from the beating of the bats’ wings seemed to suck the air from everyone’s lungs, but it returned just as quickly. Shouts and squeals reverberated from the group, with Summer’s louder than everyone else’s.

She clutched her chest like her heart might escape and swiped at tears streaming freely from her eyes.

Shannon put an arm around her waist. “Why are you crying, Ms. Summer?”

Summer laughed, pulling the hem of her T-shirt up to wipe her nose and eyes. “It’s so...so magnificent. It’s even better than a rock concert!”

A woman who found bats magnificent? More enjoyable than a rock concert? Summer’s words drove through the spot her kisses had burned in his thickened hide. It nicked at his heart, this vulnerability. He was falling for this woman. Falling hard and fast.

Hell-pee-roo! His breath froze in his lungs. A marine and a fairy princess. What am I getting myself into?