The Summer Place

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 them 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.

He clapped his hands together. “You know, if we travel very quickly and quietly on down to the lake this morning, we might be lucky enough to catch that eagle again.”

“You heard the man.” Neil spoke in a stage whisper, jerking his head toward the path. “Let’s go, gang.”

Rick leaned down and whispered something in Neil’s ear. The young man’s eyes shot to Summer, and he nodded. He hustled the kids out of the clearing as Rick approached.

“What’s wrong?” His fingers skimmed down her arm and caught her hand. The touch was warm and soothing, and she knew she should pull loose, but it was what she needed right then. She let it stay.

Swallowing didn’t rid her throat of the tight lump lodged there. “One of the kits is dead. Run over.” Her voice quivered on the last phrase. She cleared her throat. “Somebody’s been here.”

Rick’s face darkened. He dropped her hand and stalked toward the back of the house. She had to jog to catch up.

Stooped beside the lifeless form of the small creature, he smoothed its fur gently with the back of his fingers. She watched his eyes fill with grief as they took in the tracks left in the grass.

“Do you think it was the same person who was in the cove?” She motioned toward the wall and the whiskey bottle.

Rick’s eyes flashed from sorrow to anger, and he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Summer swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “This is my fault. We’ve never had trouble before. It can’t be coincidental this happened right after the story was published.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Summer.” The sympathy in his voice battered at the wall holding back her emotions. Her body shook with the effort of keeping them in check.

When he stood and pulled her to him, her resolve crumbled amid the bombardment of anger and frustration. She clung to him like a child and cried against his chest as his hands smoothed over her hair and back.

“It’s okay. Quit crying now.” He sounded like he was soothing one of the kids.

No way was she going to let him think of her that way. Pulling herself together, she pushed out of his hold.

His hands settled on his hips as he blew his breath out in a discontented sigh. “Go back to the camp and get a shovel. Bring it here, and leave it. We’ll meet you on the way back. You can accompany the kids with Neil, and I’ll stay and bury the kit.”

They walked silently to the main trail, but he gave her shoulder a pat before he broke into a run in the direction of Neil and the campers.

Summer’s legs felt like weights were attached to them as she jogged back to camp. Or maybe her heart had sunk so low it was now in the vicinity of her ankles.

The shovel Charlie kept near the campfire leaned against a tree. She got it and headed back toward the wooded path just as Tara turned in the drive.

Burying the kit was important, but welcoming Tara back took top priority. Summer went to meet her as her friend parked the car.

Tara’s face was unreadable as she got out, but when she turned to Summer, she took off her sunglasses, and Summer felt an involuntary gasp slip between her lips.

The skin around Tara’s eyes was swollen, and the blotchy red areas stood out against her fair complexion. She’d been crying, obviously hard, probably for a while. Two days, maybe?

Summer stood quietly, waiting for her to speak first. Tara’s eyes darted away, then back, and a heavy sigh settled in her chest.

“Louis came home from Honduras the day before yesterday,” she said finally. “A month early.”

While the news sounded like it should bring Tara joy, that obviously wasn’t the case. Summer took her hand to lend moral support, then braced herself for what would come next.

“He brought...” Tara stopped and took a deep breath. “He brought his wife back with him.”

His wife. The words seemed to hold their shape in the void between them.

“His wife?” Had Louis been married all this time? “His wife for how long?” Anger stirred Summer’s already-churning stomach.

“They met shortly after he got there, and a month ago they decided they were in love.” Tara drew a ragged breath, but there were no tears. Probably none left, if her face was any evidence.

“He wanted to tell me in person. Not over the phone or in an email. When he told Mom and Dad, they thought it would be best if I came home right away instead of hearing it from someone who might call me here.”

“Oh, Tara, I’m so sorry.” Summer hugged her, and Tara’s answering embrace was strong. Her friend was holding herself together well, but that didn’t stop the anger from vibrating through Summer. “The no-good bastard.”

Tara pushed away, shaking her head. “No. Louis isn’t a bastard. He’s a great guy, and I want him to be happy.”

How could she be so calm? Summer wanted to shred his hide with her fingernails, and she’d never even met him. “But he hurt you,” she said, like she needed to draw her friend’s attention to that fact?

Tara’s snort held a bitter edge. “Yes, he did. But not as much as he would’ve hurt me if he’d married the wrong woman.”

Summer’s head swirled with vicarious resentment. “All those years of saving yourself?”

A half smile raised one corner of Tara’s mouth. “I’ve got a lot of years to make up for. And I need to think about something else now and get on with the rest of my life.” She gave a dismissive wave. Her eyes darted around, searching for something to attract her focus. They settled on the shovel. “I saw the article. Is Howie laying it on so thick now you need to shovel it out?”

Summer held up the shovel, but thought better of telling Tara just yet about all that had transpired during the night. “One of the kits is dead. I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to go meet the kids.”

Tara nodded. “I’ll put one of Ginny’s ice packs on my face for a few minutes. Maybe it’ll help with the redness. Then I’ll meet y’all at breakfast?”

“My stuff’s still in your room, so stay in my cabin tonight.” Summer didn’t give her a chance to disagree. “Another night away from the girls might be good for you. ...” In case you decide to cry your eyes out again. She kept that to herself as she trotted away, shovel in hand.

Arriving back at the Byassee place ahead of the group, she leaned the shovel against the house, noticing her hand trembled under the movement. The heavy stress of the past couple of days was beginning to show.

She breathed in, trying to recapture the peace and tranquility she’d always felt here, but the panicked beating of her heart was anything but tranquil as it drummed a frightening message into her brain. The disturbance bored deeper into her psyche, deeper than a dead kit or a corrupted mammoth dig, deeper than the possibility of her parents’ lost retirement...deeper even than the breakup with Rick.

The serenity of her favorite place had been violated, the angels chased away by some evil that still lurked. She could feel it despite the heat of the morning—an icy edge to the breeze warned her to leave and not come back.

She ran back to the main trail to meet the group, channeling the instincts of the vixen.

She couldn’t give a good reason why, but for the rest of the camp session, the Byassee homestead was off-limits.