The Summer Place

CHAPTER NINE



“SO...ANY INEXPENSIVE BUT fabulous ideas on ways to give this place more eye-appeal?”

His mom’s laugh on the other end of the line made Rick smile. “The place is really dated. It needs color,” she answered. “All that white and gray is...blah.”

Rick looked around and noticed for the first time the lack of color. Camp Sunny Daze was drab. It looked like the military barracks he was used to rather than a summer camp for kids. “What would you suggest?” he asked.

“I’d start with painting the buildings different colors. The colors wouldn’t have to be bright. Organic greens, rust tones, corals.” Rick scribbled the ideas into his folder as she talked. “Flower beds would add color and vibrancy, and they wouldn’t cost much because perennials go on sale for next to nothing in July. Window boxes would look great. Oh, and striped awnings would really spiff things up, but they’d be expensive.”

“I’m sure expense will be key in what gets done.”

“I can’t tell a lot about the property from the pictures you emailed, but it looks like it has plenty of potential and would be a great investment. It just needs to be brought back to life.”

Rick visualized how the place might look if his mom’s ideas were implemented. “Paint and flowers sound easy enough. I have that week off between sessions, so I could stay here in the cabin and work on that project myself.” Would Herschel and Agnes be interested in putting in a week of work? Or Summer? If she stayed and helped, maybe he wouldn’t need her parents. The thought of Summer and him alone at the camp for a week stirred up various and sundry ideas that were indeed colorful. Mostly red hot.

“I was hoping you’d come home that week.” When did his parents become so predictable? He knew his Mom would want him to come home. She never missed a chance to try to get the family together. “We haven’t seen you in a month.”

“Or maybe you could all come here and help.” Rick cringed. Had he really just suggested a week with his dad? The elder Warren would pull him off work detail and insist he go see that shrink in Paducah, sure as hell.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but we have a couples’ tournament at the club that week.”

Whew! Dodged that bullet.

“Well, I’ll come home sometime in August. I promise.”

“I’ll think some more on the project you have there. You know, I love that you’re taking the Realtor role more seriously. You haven’t shown much enthusiasm toward it until now.”

“The Delaneys are nice people. They helped me when I needed it. I want to return the favor.”

“And what about the daughter? Summer, isn’t it? Made any progress there toward getting along?”

“Um, yeah, you could say that.” Rick felt his face heat.

“Oh, my goodness! I hear the smile in your voice from here.”

Rick gave an embarrassed laugh. “We’ve made peace. We’ll leave it at that.”

“Oh, no, we won’t leave it at that. But we’ll have to leave it at that for right now because I’m showing the Eldrige place in twenty minutes.” Rick heard the door to the garage close and a car door open. “You call me back when we both have time to talk, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rick answered. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

As he hung up, a sound from behind alerted him that someone was approaching. He closed the folder quickly, lest it be the fairy princess herself. But it turned out to be Kenny.

“You need to get some rest.” He gave the security guard a once-over, taking in the heavy eyelids and dark circles. “You’ve had a long night.”

Did his own eyes look as tired as Kenny’s? Last night, the nightmare had been especially vicious. What started out as Kenny over his shoulder soon became his brother Luke before morphing into Dunk. Like being with the kids, carrying Kenny through the storm had triggered strong memories—and fears. He blinked to clear his thoughts and finished off the coffee in his cup.

It was almost noon on Saturday. The insurance adjuster had just left, and even the woman’s promise to get Kenny a check “very soon” couldn’t shake the security guard’s glum mood.

“Go on,” Rick urged. “A good, long sleep will help you more than anything.”

Kenny yawned, his whole body shuddering in response. “Maybe you’re right.”

He sauntered away toward Rick’s cabin as the sheriff’s car pulled in.

Sheriff Buck Blaine ambled out of the car, adjusting his holster belt, which anchored his pants firmly beneath the roll of his large belly. “Well, if it isn’t Rick Warren as I live and breathe.”

Rick’s mood lightened when he shook the hand of his old friend. “How you doing, Buck? It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.” Buck clapped him on the back as they exchanged their handshake. “Heard you was stickin’ around these parts for a while, and I was sure proud to hear it. Paducah would do well to hang on to the likes of you.”

Ever since they’d worked together on the Brennans’ cave rescue operation a few years ago, Buck had treated Rick like he hung the moon. Rick found it embarrassing but tolerated it because he knew Buck’s praise was genuine and not given lightly.

“I’m glad to still be here,” Rick answered. “I actually hope something opens up soon that’ll allow me to stay for good.”

Paducah, Kentucky, had been a good match for him. It reminded him of his home in Arkansas—he noticed Summer watching him and Buck from a short distance away—and the saying about Kentucky’s fast horses and pretty women seemed to be more truth than tale. “Summer—” he motioned her over “—this is Buck Blaine, the Marshall County sheriff.”

“Hi, Buck.” Summer extended her hand and flashed a disarming smile.

“Glad to meet you, little lady.” Buck looked around, his eyebrows drawing together in feigned concern. “Rumor has it y’all have a camp for kids going here. You got ’em stashed away in a closet?”

Summer didn’t miss a beat. Her face grew somber, but a telltale, mischievous glint appeared in her eye. “Yeah.” She shrugged. “But the sleeping bags add an authentic camping experience. We open the door and throw in some trail mix every six hours.”

Buck popped his chewing gum and gave Rick a lopsided grin. “Got your hands full with this one, huh?”

Summer’s laugh tinkled pleasantly in Rick’s ear. It was a nice sound—soft and feminine—and the memory of his hands full of her last night stampeded southward from his brain. “You know it. I had to send the kids fishing. I couldn’t keep an eye on them and her, too.” He said it only half in jest. Despite the mess and the work, the past couple of hours with Summer had been fun. Flirting. Teasing. The occasional “come-on” look that placed a repeat of last night’s kiss high on today’s agenda. If his woman radar wasn’t totally off-kilter, the little lady wanted a repeat performance, too. He’d be more than happy to oblige when the right time came.

“You ended up on the best end of that stick.” Buck gave Summer a wink before his manner became all business. He eyed what was left of Kenny’s camper with the tree still slicing through it. “Looks like y’all had a little trouble here last night.”

Rick’s gaze followed the sheriff’s. “That we did, but this is the worst of it. The rest was just downed limbs, most of which we’ve taken care of.”

“Nobody was hurt,” Summer added. “That’s the important thing.”

“You got that right.” Buck took a deep breath, and Rick noticed that he, like Kenny, had dark circles under his eyes. No doubt, the sheriff had had a long night, too. “We had twenty-two from Marshall County taken to the hospital. Some broken bones. A couple of concussions. This county’s huge...covers a wide area. But nobody died, thank the Lord.”

Summer’s face went serious again, but this time she wasn’t faking. “Our security guard would’ve been goners if Rick hadn’t woke him up.”

Buck gave a knowing nod and his hand clapped heavily on Rick’s back again. “Rick’s a true hero. Savin’ lives is what he does best.”

Rick flinched. Everybody but my best friend.

Buck meant it as a compliment, but his words stung just the same.

Summer tilted her head, regarding Rick closely, and it would be only a second before she started interrogating him about things he would rather not discuss right then...or ever. “Summer’s the lifesaver.” He shifted the focus away from himself. “She’s the one who realized Kenny wasn’t in the storm shelter with us.”

“Well, I’d say having the two of y’all around makes Kenny one lucky son of a bitch,” Buck concluded. “’Course, it could just be that Mr. Warren here has a nose for trouble. Seems like he manages to sniff it out no matter where he is.”

Summer snorted. “Well, it’ll have to smell worse than a skunk for Rick to catch a whiff of it,” she drawled.

Buck’s brows furrowed, and his glance bounced between them, demanding details until Rick finally threw up his hands in surrender.

Oh, his friend the sheriff was going to love this.

* * *

SUMMER HAD DRAGGED THIS STORY out as long as she could. Time to let Tara in on the best details... “And then he kissed me,” she sang in a whisper.

Tara let out a surprised shriek in response, then covered her mouth quickly. Easing the door of her bedroom open, she glanced around and quietly closed it all the way. “All still asleep. He kissed you? How was it?”

Summer’s stomach did a quick-step and she chuckled that a sixteen-hour-old memory could still bring on such a response. “Hmm.” She searched for the most appropriate term. “I’d rate it as the best first kiss since Adam and Eve.”

“Oh, wow! I want one like that.” Tara’s voice sounded dreamy. “And I also want a week like this has been for you.”

“This week wasn’t that great until last night,” Summer reminded her.

“Yeah, it was. You just haven’t been listening to yourself talk about it. There’s been fun and excitement...”

“And way too much drama.”

“But look what it’s all led to.” Tara’s eyes glistened with excitement. “Charlie went from wanting to fire you to praising how you handled the kids in a crisis situation. You went from gnashing your teeth about Rick Warren to licking your lips—”

Summer chuckled when she realized she’d licked her lips just as Tara said that.

“—and we still have three more weeks of this session, and then another whole month—”

“During which anything can happen,” Summer inserted.

Tara smiled and sighed. “Precisely.”

“You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Tara. It was just a kiss.”

Her friend gave a knowing laugh. “That’s how it always starts. With ‘just a kiss.’”

Summer noted the time. “And that’s how this conversation’s gotta end. My parents are due here any minute. I’d better finish straightening up my cabin.”

Tara gave her a quick hug. “This is so exciting! Keep me informed?”

“Always, girlfriend.”

Summer hurried through the dorm, careful not to awaken the napping girls. The conversation with Tara had her giddy. She was so glad the young woman had taken the job as assistant counselor. Of all the friends she’d made at this camp over the years, Tara was turning out to be the one she most wanted to keep in her life.

On the way to her cabin, a quick phone call to Kate assured her that Fairy Princess Parties wasn’t going broke without her—in fact, five more parties were booked into August and the first of September. That was a good thing, but time allowed for so many more. The small ad running in the local paper was garnering some attention, though most of the business seemed to be coming purely by word of mouth. Someday, she would be able to pay for an expensive, eye-catching color ad, but until then, she’d have to be contented to do what she could afford and keep customers happy.

Happy. The word seemed to sum up most of what she was feeling today despite the unusual morning.

She closed her eyes and again imagined the kiss with Rick, wondering if it was really that good, or if her imagination had embellished it. She replayed it in her mind several times and concluded she’d have to experience another to know with any certainty. Last night’s surprise element had added to the excitement. She’d be ready for the next one when it came...tonight, she hoped.

She continued tidying her cabin and thinking about the kiss until car doors slamming brought her back to the present. Through the window, she saw that her mom and dad had arrived. There was a time when they’d made these visits to the camp weekly, but with the decline in her dad’s health, the visits had become sporadic.

The happy glow she’d been enjoying dissipated as her stomach twisted into a knot. Even though she’d received praise from Charlie for her handling of the kids yesterday, she still didn’t know how he would respond to her parents when they asked how the week had gone. Her dad didn’t need any anxiety, and she especially didn’t want to be the cause.

Rather than rushing out to greet them, she stayed in her cabin for the rest of quiet time. Charlie would have fifteen minutes alone with them to report what he wanted...good or bad.

She lay across her bed and tried to concentrate on the book she was reading, but her mind kept wandering to Charlie and her parents. What was he telling them? Was her dad getting upset?

When quiet time was over, she hurried to the girls’ dorm, expecting to be met by Charlie and her parents, but the trio was nowhere to be seen.

The day’s nature hike had been shifted to the late-afternoon activity slot, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Not only did it give the campers a different perspective on the animals’ activities, but it also shoved her mom and dad’s presence into second place. The knowledge they were at the camp still niggled at her, but she didn’t have time to brood...much.

On the return hike, the closer she got to camp the more her pace slowed as though her feet were practicing avoidance behavior and overriding her brain’s commands. Before long, she found herself at the back of the group.

Rick dropped back to fall into step beside her. “You okay? You seem a little preoccupied.”

She nodded. “I’m okay. Just worried about what Charlie’s telling Mom and Dad about me.”

“I’ll bet he’s filling their ears with how you saved the day yesterday by keeping the kids occupied during the storm.” He trailed a finger down her arm.

It was barely even a touch, but her brain understood the message. He wanted to touch her, and suddenly the discussion going on at the camp didn’t seem nearly so threatening.

“I watched how you kept them calm,” Rick went on. “You would have been a good soldier if you’d been a little bigger,” he added, regarding her size. “You’re good under pressure.”

It was a strange compliment, but she could tell he was sincere. “Thanks,” she answered. She smiled, and the way he smiled back unleashed a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. Her temperature rose and she wasn’t sure if it was from his smile, his words, his touch...or the sight of her parents standing with Charlie at the point where the path broke out of the trees.

Neil stopped the kids and had them line up single file. They introduced themselves and shook hands with her parents as they walked by. Summer giggled softly at the stunned look of surprise on her parents’ faces.

When she and Rick got to them, he stepped behind her. He’s got my back, she thought. And whether it was the marine or the Southern gentleman, she wasn’t sure, but the idea relaxed her shoulders either way.

“Nubbin!” Her dad’s hug was followed by one from her mom. The greeting and the warmth of the hugs told her she had nothing to worry about.

“Charlie’s been telling us what a great job you two have been doing.” Her dad’s smile was as broad as she’d ever seen it. Knowing that his smile meant he was proud of her made her giddy, but only momentarily. Three more weeks of camp remained. She couldn’t get overconfident and let her guard down yet.

Her mom’s eyes glistened with what Summer assumed was probably relief. “He says y’all have made a good team.”

Dad motioned toward the kids, still in single file as they headed to dinner. “I’m impressed. Really impressed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Rick shook her dad’s hand and nodded. “It’s been a good week.” His glance shifted to Summer, and he gave her a smile that brought the butterflies to flight in her stomach again. “Actually, it’s been a great week.”

“Well, I hope we won’t upset your schedule too much, but...” A hint of mystery accompanied her mom’s smile. “We’ve arranged for a surprise activity tonight.”

Summer didn’t know what her parents had planned, but she’d bet her last dime it wouldn’t compare with the surprise activity she’d received last night.

* * *

“I DON’T WANT TO SQUARE DANCE. I don’t know how.”

Lucy’s whiny complaints had become so habitual, Summer often ignored them—like now.

When her parents announced at dinner they’d hired a square dance caller for the night, she’d wondered if they were both becoming senile at the same time. What were they thinking? Eight- and nine-year-old boys didn’t dance with girls. They would all spend the entire evening standing around looking at one another.

“Ms. Agnes said the man would teach us how.” It was Amanda who spoke. What a super kid. She had a great attitude about everything. If she ever had a daughter someday, Summer hoped she turned out like Amanda.

Summer looped a bright blue ponytail holder around the base of Lucy’s braid. “All done.” She gave the child a pat to send her on her way. “Anybody else need help?” She looked around. While all the other girls were busy changing clothes or fixing their hair, M&M sat quietly on her bed, taking it all in.

Summer felt in her pocket for another ponytail holder, and pulled out a pink metallic one. She held it up as enticement. “Want me to fix your hair, M&M?”

The little girl’s eyes went wide and she bobbed her head.

Summer stood back and regarded the brown locks, calling upon her one semester of cosmetology training. Not enough length for a braid or a ponytail. Hmm, but maybe... She swept the front and sides up and back into a high ponytail, but left the back down. Fussing a bit brought out some funky, little spikes in the front of the tail, which she sprayed to maintain the hold, while the back fluffed out nicely. The pink holder jazzed up the child’s mundane tan T-shirt and brown shorts, and Summer made a mental note to add tie-dying T-shirts to the activity list this week.

“Wow, you look cute!”

Was that Lucy talking? Summer could hardly believe her ears. M&M’s face flushed bright pink, which added to her adorable glow, while Summer rushed to give the other child positive reinforcement that might encourage recurrent behavior. “What a nice thing to say, Lucy.”

Too late. The corners of Lucy’s mouth had already settled in the downward position. Her upper teeth worried her bottom lip. “Ms. Summer, what if nobody asks me to dance?”

The room grew quiet, and Summer realized every little girl in the room was worried about that very thing. She remembered sitting at dances, waiting for somebody—anybody—to ask for a dance. And she realized this was an empowering moment.

“Well,” she spoke loud enough to be heard all around, “you don’t have to wait for someone to ask you. If you want to dance, there’s no law that says you can’t ask one of the boys to dance with you.”

“But what if he says no?” Though the voice was a tad whiny, Lucy’s question was asked in earnest.

“Then you can ask somebody else, maybe somebody who really looks like he wants to. Or ask me. I’ll dance with you.” Another thought occurred to her. “But while we’re talking about this, let’s listen to what our pretty hearts tell us. Would it hurt your feelings a little if you asked someone to dance and he said no?”

Lucy nodded.

“Yeah, I’d want to punch him.” Greta spoke up from across the room.

“We’re not going to punch anybody,” Summer warned, but pressed on to make her point. “But the boys here are all our friends, right?” She looked around at the nodding heads. “Soooo, if one of the boys asks you to dance—” which she doubted was ever going to happen “—what does your pretty heart tell you to do?”

“Say yes,” M&M answered quietly.

“That’s right. We should accept because we wouldn’t want anybody to hurt our feelings, and we don’t want to hurt anybody else’s feelings. These guys are our buddies. And remember that tomorrow night we vote on who gets this week’s special prize.” She smiled, remembering the lovely little wands her dad brought this afternoon. She looked around. Everybody seemed ready. “Okay, let’s go. Since this is a party, we won’t line up.”

When they exited the bunkhouse, a lively jig wafted from the dining hall, causing a ripple of anxious giggles to pass through the group. Strummed on a banjo, the catchy music had a strong beat that had some of the girls skipping and hopping in rhythm before they’d even taken a few steps.

Through the screens, Summer could see the boys sitting in chairs placed along the wall. The tables had been moved back to create a huge space in the middle of the dining floor.

As if on cue, as soon as the girls stepped inside, the boys rose from their chairs.

The move seemed like something straight out of the nineteenth century. Summer rolled her eyes and gave Rick a resigned shake of her head, which he answered with a smug grin. Trying to impress her parents, was he?

Well, this could be her chance to shine, too.

“Okay, ladies,” she said loud enough for her mom and dad to hear. “We’re in a public situation,” she continued, reminding them of the talk Tara had given. The girls looked at her and nodded, giggling softly. They found their way to chairs and sat down as demurely as could be expected of eight- and nine-year-olds.

The caller, an elderly man dressed in Western attire that included cowboy boots and a bolo tie, spoke into his microphone. “All right, you young whippersnappers,” he addressed the boys. “The ladies are here, so it’s time to kick up our heels. Go grab yourselves a partner and form two groups.”

A trace of anxiety tightened Summer’s chest, and she recognized it reflected on the tense faces of the girls. Who would be asked? Who would have to do her own asking? She wanted them to know it was okay either way. “Remember to listen to your pretty hearts,” she said in her fairy princess voice. “And it’s okay for you to ask, too.”

Some of the girls nodded. But before any of them could make a move, the boys, who’d all been looking at Rick, took a step forward in unison. Rick gave the order. “It’s time, men.”

Looking like soldiers going into their first battle, the troops marched across the open space. Although they had to shift positions as they got closer, each boy went directly to a specific girl. When they got there, they bowed, asked the girls to dance and held out their hands to escort their partners to the floor.

Summer watched, astonished and speechless. While one part of her completely rebelled at the forced nature of the act, it had been executed flawlessly, and the smiles on the girls’ faces were genuine with relief. The whole spectacle, obviously choreographed and rehearsed, could only have been the brainchild of one person.

Rick.

She turned to find him standing in front of her, blue-green eyes flashing in silent humor and something else that made her insides twirl in a different kind of rebellion. His wide smile showed white teeth that glowed against his tanned face, and at that moment, she decided he might be the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on...and he was asking her to dance.

He bowed elegantly. “Ms. Summer,” he drawled, “might I have the pleasure of this dance?”

When he held out his hand, her heart took on the pounding rhythm of the music. They were Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara in the flesh. “Well, fiddle-dee-dee, Mr. Warren.” She glanced coyly away and saw her mom and dad, Tara and Neil and Charlie and Ginny all making their way to the dance floor. “I thought you’d never ask.”

His large, warm hand enveloped hers, and her heart lost its steady rhythm, plunging into its own wild dance, taking her along for the ride like a loose roller coaster careening out of control.

They joined one of the groups, and the caller directed them to form two lines facing each other, men in one line, ladies in the other. Reluctantly, she let go of Rick’s hand to take her place, but his smoldering gaze held her across the small distance that separated them.

“Before we break into squares, we want to get everybody warmed up,” the caller explained. “We’re gonna start with the Virginia Reel.”

Summer decided he couldn’t have started with a more appropriate dance; her head was already reeling.

For the next two hours, she and Rick danced every dance. They held hands, held waists, locked arms, locked eyes, smiled, laughed and had the time of their lives.

Sometime during the first few do-si-dos, she lost herself. She was no longer Summer Delaney...or even the fairy princess.

She was Cinderella. And she was having a ball.

* * *

RICK WONDERED IF THERE WAS more to the fairy princess thing than met the eye. Magic? Maybe. He certainly felt like he was under some kind of spell.

The square dance had been fun, although being so near Summer and not being able to kiss her again had been torture. Even now, he could smell her faint perfume where she’d brushed so often against his shirt and just the scent was conjuring images in his mind that had nothing to do with dancing—unless it was the kind that happened between the sheets.

He glanced out the window again. Yeah, Agnes and Herschel were still visiting at her cabin.

His meeting with them while everyone was getting ready for the dance had gone well. The notes he’d taken so far pleased them, but he promised to get measurements and make scaled sketches of all the buildings. Agnes especially liked his mom’s idea of painting and adding flowers. Herschel wasn’t as enthused, seeing it as an unnecessary expense, even when Rick volunteered his time. But they both seemed genuinely interested in his mom’s opinion that they could make a profit if they could catch the real-estate market at the right time.

Herschel was uneasy about what Summer’s reaction would be to such news, but Rick assured him, based on conversations he’d had with her, Summer’s top priority was their well-being. Her dad wasn’t so sure. He continued to insist they needed to stay mum on the selling option until they’d made a decision. And Rick continued to remind himself that what they did with their property was their business, and he certainly didn’t want to get involved with their family matters. If he could only give them a glimpse of the woman, Summer, whom he was getting to know.

“Summer’s got a good head on her shoulders,” he assured them.

“Sometimes,” Agnes answered.

“And sometimes, you can’t tell her anything. You have to just stand back and let her flounder in her own mire.”

Herschel’s face had reddened when he made that remark, and Rick had chosen to let the conversation die there.

Now, he jerked the T-shirt over his head in frustration, taking one last whiff before tossing it into his duffel of dirty laundry. He’d hoped for some one-on-one time with the wild child tonight. Had counted on it all day long.

Although another kiss—or two or three—admittedly had been part of the Summer scenarios playing on a continuous loop in his mind, mostly he wanted to talk, wanted to get to know this woman who was capturing his...thoughts.

He jumped into the shower and scrubbed away the last of the pleasant scent, and then doused himself with a hard spray of icy water for good measure.

As he turned off the water, the sound he’d been waiting for echoed in his ears—car tires crunching down the gravel road. The Delaneys were leaving.

He scrambled to get dressed, grabbed the other things he’d laid out and made a beeline for Summer’s cabin, undeterred even though he watched her lights blink out when he was a few yards from her door.

He leaped up on the porch and knocked quietly, waiting breathlessly until he heard her soft approach on the other side.

The door swung open, bringing a fresh breeze of the Summer scent he’d worked so hard to rid himself of just moments ago. He breathed it in, and felt the magic bringing his body to life again.

“Rick.” Her tone sounded surprised...and maybe a little relieved. “I was afraid you weren’t coming tonight.” The teasing lilt of her voice emphasized the open look of pleasure glinting from her eyes in the moonlight.

He let out the breath he’d been holding and held up the towel in his hand. “Want to go for a moonlight swim?”