Over Her Head (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 489)

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Over Her Head (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 489) Page 15

by Gail Gaymer Martin


  “When you do ask for help, listen to instructions and follow them,” Susan added.

  Don raised his arm. “Sometimes we can’t accomplish things alone because we’re knocked over by the problems and blind to the solutions. But someone else, who can see what we can’t, can help us.”

  The meaning became clear, and the teens talked about their need for Jesus’ friendship and for the Holy Spirit’s guidance.

  Lana contemplated the discussion. Sometimes we can’t accomplish things alone because we’re blind to the solutions. Don’s words reverberated in her mind. She needed to say the phrase over and over until it stayed with her.

  When the team lessons were finished, the teens had free time until lights out. Mark and Lana ambled away and headed for their cabins, waiting to make sure the teens were occupied before their rendezvous.

  Dusk had settled over the woods, and darkness was not far behind. When Lana’s wristwatch read nine o’clock, she slipped outside and rounded the corner for the darkest area behind her cabin.

  The heat of the day had melted into a pleasantly warm evening. In the moonlit darkness, the heady scent of decaying undergrowth enveloped her. She listened for Mark’s footsteps, but only the lone hoot of an owl and distant croaking of the frogs broke the stillness.

  Finally, a rustle of brush drew her attention, and she waited hidden in the shadows. A familiar silhouette rounded the cabin.

  “Lana?”

  “I’m here.” She moved toward him, feeling giddy. “This is silly, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Getting away from this pack of kids isn’t easy.” He paused a moment. “Let’s take a walk toward the archery range. We should be alone there. Notice I said ‘should be.’ ” He drew her alongside him.

  Lana moved with careful steps in the dark to avoid turning her ankle in the rutted underbrush. “Do you feel like a Hardy boy out on a caper?”

  His chuckle sounded rich in the quiet night. “More like Davy Crockett sneaking up on the Indians.”

  “And I’m an Indian chief’s daughter,” she said, joining his game, “like—”

  “Princess Summerfall Winterspring.”

  She cringed. “Please. Not back to Howdy Doody!”

  He slid his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. With a spurt of courage Lana wrapped her arm around Mark’s waist. The hay bales used for targets at the archery range appeared as silhouettes in the moonlight, and when Mark and Lana reached them, he lifted her into the air as easily as a downy pillow and set her on top, then scooted up next to her and placed his arm around her waist.

  She nuzzled close to his side. “This camping thing has been wonderful, and so many things about it. Enjoying the setting, the Bible study. . .and you.”

  He drew her closer. “It has been special.” His voice sounded husky in her ear.

  She loved being nestled in his arms. “And the kids,” she added. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know them.”

  “It’s obvious you care about the teens. Remember the things you said when we first met?”

  She shook her head. “I bet you wondered what kind of a horrible person I was.”

  “No,” he remained thoughtful. “I realized that you needed to focus on God’s will and ask the Holy Spirit for help. It worked. Look how you were with Janet. You forgot about your own needs and helped her when she needed a friend.”

  “She’s like a new kid in just over a week. Almost a miracle.”

  “It’s not the amount of time, Lana. It’s the heart. And it’s God working in that heart. That’s what makes the difference.”

  “And that’s what’s changed me.”

  “God working in your heart?”

  For a moment, she could only nod. Tears pushed against the back of her eyes, and she wiped them away, glad that the darkness hid her emotion. “I’ve been a Christian most all of my life. A Christian in name, that is, but I need to work harder to live my life the way God expects.”

  And so did he. With his arms around Lana’s shoulder, Mark felt tension rifle through her. She gazed at him in the moonlight, and moisture glinted in her eyes. He shifted and kneaded the tension in her neck.

  She flexed her shoulders and moved her head from side to side. “That feels so good.”

  He harnessed his emotion. If that line wasn’t the perfect lead-in, nothing was. “If you think that feels good, this should feel wonderful.”

  He guided his fingers from her neck to the tip of her chin and tilted her mouth toward his. Her lips looked firm and inviting in the creamy moonlight, and he moved his palm across her hair as his lips touched hers.

  Their unison sigh rose and met like voices blending in harmony. . .and Mark loved the song they sang. He eased his mouth tenderly from hers, and as he spoke he felt the feathery touch of his lips near hers. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like this all day.”

  “And I’ve wanted—”

  “Mark. Lana. Where are you?” Voices shot through the darkness, turning their melody into caterwauling.

  “I know they came this way,” a female voice muttered.

  Instinctively, Lana and Mark dove from the hay and crouched behind the bales. Mark inched along, staying low to the ground, and Lana followed. They crisscrossed their way back into the trees through the tall grass like video-game characters.

  “They’re great kids,” Mark muttered, “but I wanted just a few moments alone with you.”

  “I know.”

  Youthful voices swept across the field. “Did you see them?” asked one teen. “Over that way,” said another. “Hey, let’s leave Mark alone,” hissed a different voice.

  Mark lowered himself into the grass, then inched his way into the woods. Lana followed behind him. “I’m the youth director,” he whispered over his shoulder. “What am I doing?”

  When the night seemed quiet again, Mark stopped, leaned his back against a tree, and pulled Lana to him. “Aren’t we terrible? I feel like a kid hiding from my parents.”

  Lana shook her head. “I know. I feel guilty—like we’ve done something wrong.”

  Turning her around to face him, Mark clasped her to him. “Instead we’ve done something right.”

  Hand-in-hand, they wandered the long way back and arrived at the shimmering lake drenched with moonlight. Sitting on the bench, Mark brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “We won’t forget this night, will we?”

  “Never,” Lana said, with a loving sigh.

  Thirteen

  In the middle of the night, Lana realized the words she’d said earlier in the evening had been the absolute truth. She would never forget that night. Yet there was more than Mark’s wonderful kiss that woke her in the darkness. Her legs and arms itched as if they’d been attacked by a herd of mosquitoes in a roundup. She pointed her flashlight beneath the sheet and witnessed the telltale blisters dotting her lower legs and arms where she’d crawled through the underbrush.

  Though irritated with herself, she couldn’t hold back a chuckle, thinking of Mark scratching himself into a tizzy in his cabin. She reviewed what she might have brought along in her luggage to stop the stinging. Nothing came to mind. Great planning, Miss Organization! Yet somewhere in the cabin she recalled seeing some pink lotion.

  She tiptoed from her bed and crept along the rows of bunks, gazing at the window sills. That’s where she’d seen it. Sure enough, the silhouette of a bottle glowed in the moonlight, and stealthily she pulled it from its narrow sill and eased her way outside.

  She headed for the bathroom, where a light glowed, and inside she gawked down at her red blistered limbs. Smoothing the pink fluid onto her arms and legs, she wondered whose parent had been wise enough to send the healing balm along. After sealing the bottle, she whipped outside and, in the darkness, missed seeing the hurtling body who charged into her, leaving her breathless.

  She stood for a moment to catch her wind, and Mark gazed down at her, dumbfounded. “I’m miserable. I’ve been itching for hours,” he grumbled. Then he glanc
ed at her arms sticking from beneath her T-shirt. “You too?”

  She nodded with a guilty smile. “Up to my neck.”

  He yawned and gaped at her. “What should we do now?”

  “Want to borrow some of this lotion? I found it on a window sill. I feel better already.”

  “I suppose. Anything is better than this. I’m a mess,” he grumbled.

  Lana opened the bottle and daubed some of the soothing lotion on the spots bubbling up on his arms and legs.

  Unexpectedly, Mark pulled away from her. “Wait a minute,” he said, staring at the thickly coated spots. “I can’t wear pink. Pink’s for girls.”

  Lana sputtered. “You can’t? Well, sorry, but this doesn’t come in blue. Pink is the fashion color of the season.”

  “Then go easy. Not such big globs.”

  To taunt him, she made the next spots bigger than before. He grimaced but didn’t complain.

  Lana screwed the lid closed. “I don’t know whose lotion this is, but I’ll explain in the morning.”

  “Do you think you could leave my name out of it? We’ll look a bit suspicious with our arms and legs covered in pink goop.”

  “Don’t be a baby, Mark. I’ll tell them a masked bandit crawled through the poison ivy with me.” She gave him the once-over and snickered. “You can sneak a second coating under your clothes in the morning. Stop whining.” She tiptoed and gave him a teensy kiss on the lips.

  With the pretense of drama, he staggered backward. “Now that makes this all worthwhile.” His mouth curved into his sunny smile.

  Lana smirked and ignored his comment. Without a word, they turned back toward their individual cabins and waved a silent good night.

  ❧

  Mark returned to bed and had to admit that the lotion did ease the terrible itching. He envisioned the scene and chuckled to himself. They did make a silly sight, each of them dotted with pink spots covering their blistering skin. He should have known better than to creep along the ground. Poison ivy and poison oak were the first plants he’d learned about in Camping 101. But at that moment, he’d been desperate. Stifling his overtired snickers, he tried to close his eyes.

  But his thoughts returned to Lana. They’d almost had time to talk about things that were important until his youthful charges interrupted them. Mark longed for some quiet time to share his dreams and hopes with the woman who’d barreled into his heart. The sensation had caught him way off guard.

  Still amazed, he relived how his feelings had run away with him. He was no kid anymore. He’d be thirty on his next birthday. Then his mind drifted, wondering at what age wisdom became one of God’s gifts. Or if he might ever be wise. But tonight—except for his telltale blisters—he felt a little smarter.

  For the first time in his life, he knew positively that he’d made the right career decision. He felt at home with these teens. Sure, he wanted to have a moment of quiet, but he loved what he was doing. Each day, he grew stronger in his faith and worked to improve his weaknesses. He felt blessed to be given the task of touching their young lives with pure, clean enjoyment and with Bible study and fellowship, despite his personal flaws.

  Those experiences still lived inside him from his own youth. He prayed that these teens would come away from the experience with memories that made a difference. With Lana on his mind and his itching limbs soothed, he finally drifted off to sleep.

  The early morning sun shot through the window and pressed against his eyes. The itching had roused itself as morning neared, and Mark jumped out of his bunk, slid on his clothes, and darted across the grass. He needed some of Lana’s medicine. And he needed it before the whole camp awoke.

  With only a light tap on the window, Lana heard him and tiptoed to the door. She opened it a crack and poked the bottle outside. “And hurry up. I don’t want to wake the girls.”

  “What’s wrong, Lana?” One of the girls’ voices mumbled, as she lifted her head and gaped through the doorway.

  “Nothing, Sara,” Lana whispered back. “Go to sleep.”

  “Is that Mark outside?” the girl hissed.

  “Shush, I don’t want you to wake the others.” Lana warned her again.

  “I’m already awake.” Janet’s voice sailed through the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Lana said, hoping they’d go back to sleep.

  “Then what’s all the commotion about?” Susan asked.

  Janet leaned over her bunk and peeked through the chink in the door. “Mark’s using calamine lotion. Poison ivy?”

  Lana held her finger to her lips to silence her and nodded. Janet’s gaze traveled down Lana’s arm, staring at her telltale blisters also caked with the pink lotion. A grin rose on the girl’s lips. “I think you two better find a safer place to chat than in a poison ivy patch.”

  A loud yawn traveled along the bunks. “Who has poison ivy?” Teri asked.

  A muffled voice rose from a sleeping bag. “Lana and Mark. Our fearless leaders.”

  A snicker traveled the length of the room.

  Lana shook her head. “Don’t call me your fearless leader. This is the first camping trip of my life, and I don’t plan to go on another one—ever.”

  “Oh, you’d better not say that,” Janet murmured. “Mark’s a youth director. He’ll have lots of camping trips to take in his lifetime. And I think he’ll want you right there at his side.”

  Lana felt a flush cover her cheeks. “Hush.” But the truth was she wanted to be at his side—forever.

  Girlish giggles filled the cabin.

  “Look,” someone snickered. “She’s blushing.”

  Mark stuck the bottle through the gap in the doorway.

  Instead of taking the container, Lana flung the door open wide. “No sense in being subtle, Mark. They’re all in here laughing at us hysterically.”

  He gaped at them helplessly and then grinned. “Okay, but one word from any of you, and I’ll. . .I’ll. . .”

  “You’ll what?” Lana asked.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “It’s cute, Mark,” Janet called from her bunk. “You and Lana look really great together. Especially with both of you decorated in pink.”

  Mark raised his eyebrows and glared at the girl. “The lotion doesn’t come in blue, Janet. I asked.”

  Eight girls sat up in their bunks and joined in a full-bodied laugh as he spun on his heel and headed back to his cabin.

  ❧

  Mark leaned against a bench near the dining hall, waiting for the lunch bell. He felt hungry. In fact, more than ready to eat. “These two weeks have turned me into a trash compactor. I’m never full.”

  “Nervous energy,” Lana agreed. “Keeping an eye on thirty-two teens isn’t cotton candy.”

  “No, but they sure tried to stick to us as if we were.” Mark let loose a chuckle, thinking of his analogy, then glanced at his drying blisters. “Three days with that lotion and we’re lookin’ good.” He beamed a smile her way.

  Lana surveyed her arms and legs. “I thanked Sara for the calamine. Glad her mother thought ahead. But I worried we might spread the infection all over the place.”

  Mark grinned. “No, but we did an A-one job on ourselves.”

  “And taught everyone an important lesson at the same time. Don’t walk through underbrush in the dark.” She gave him her teacher expression. “Always remember to turn your bungled activities into a positive experience.”

  “I suppose when you put it that way. . .”

  Lana pulled herself into a ramrod pose. “I’m the master of bungling.”

  Mark laughed at her confession. “No one could argue that.”

  As the words left his mouth, the lunch bell rang, and the crowd appeared like a tidal wave and filled the dining hall. With a clatter of forks and knives, the campers finished lunch, and before they scattered, Mark knew he’d better review their final day.

  “Quiet everyone.” His voice resounded through the room, and little by little, the din dwi
ndled. “Free time this afternoon to enjoy yourselves. But remember we leave tomorrow so you may want to gather your things together and not leave it all until morning. After dinner, we’ll have our final Bible study and then our farewell bonfire. So when you’re done here, you’re free to go. . .but stay out of trouble.”

  Amid their hoots and chuckles, an arm shot up. Mark pivoted toward the teenager. “Dennis?”

  The teen’s discomfort was evident as he squirmed in his chair. “Teri didn’t show for lunch. I wondered if anyone’s seen her.”

  Mark recalled seeing the pair as a constant twosome, so the young man’s words sent a minor charge through his chest. “Anyone? Girls? Is Teri still in her cabin?”

  Lana touched his arm. “She wasn’t there just before I came outside. She bunks in my cabin.”

  Mark’s pulse picked up pace. “Anyone?”

  The teens stared with blank expressions toward him. As they rose to leave, Mark figured he’d better get down to the facts. “Hold up, Dennis.”

  Before he headed toward the youth, Sara stepped up. “I heard Teri say earlier she was going down by the lake.”

  Lana pressed the teen’s shoulder. “Thanks, Sara, we’ll have a look.”

  Dennis came forward, guilt written over his face, making Mark more than curious. “What’s up, Dennis?”

  He shrugged. “Teri and I had a little argument this morning, and she huffed off. I thought she’d get over it and I could talk with her at lunch, but—”

  “But she’s not here, so you’re worried.” He lifted an eyebrow at the teen.

  Dennis nodded.

  “Mark,” Lana said, “did you hear Sara?”

  He turned his eyes toward Lana. “The lake?”

  Lana nodded.

  “Then we’d better check it out.”

  The three rushed down toward the lake and met Sara heading back. Before they reached her, she called to them. “She’s not there, and the rowboat’s there so she didn’t take it out.”

  Jolted by nervous energy, Mark gathered his wits. He had prayed nothing would go wrong on this trip. Now, on their last day, he looked heavenward. Lord, keep each of these kids safely in Your care. He eased his rigid shoulders back, letting God’s promise filter through him—Ask, and you shall receive. Mark struggled to let go and receive.

 

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