As if thinking of shows had conjured it from thin air, a car pulled in beside the bus and a man and woman quickly got out. The man was already speaking rapidly into his smartphone, and the woman had her camera out, aimed at the ball players.
It was if somebody had flipped a switch. The Slammers suddenly became an animated group of men, seemingly anxious to meet their new charges. Logan, Brody, and that big man – Bo? - were the only ones who seemed unfazed as they continued their moderate pace to the bus.
The bus doors opened and a man with coal black hair stepped out.
“Hello!” he greeted the ball team. “I’m Pastor Rhinehart.” He began shaking each man’s hand as they introduced themselves to him.
“He’s the pastor?” Abby softly asked Emily, surprise in her voice. “He can’t be more than thirty years old.”
He was handsome, too, with his muscular build and black hair nearly touching the neckband on his gray and white t-shirt. Emily could see the blue in his eyes from where she stood—they were that bright.
“And which one of you two lovely ladies is Emily Scott?” The pastor smiled at the two women.
The men parted like the Red Sea and Pastor Rhinehart strode through them.
Emily stuck out her hand. “I’m Emily.”
He took her hand in his and covered it with his other hand. “I can’t tell you just how much it means that you are willing to donate your nursing services to our group. I was afraid we were going to have to disappoint several young men at the last minute.” His voice slid over her like hot fudge on a sundae. She would merrily go to his church every Sunday, just to hear him speak.
“I’m Abby Michaels, Emily’s best friend.” Abby introduced herself, shaking Emily out of her stupor.
He released Emily’s hand and shook Abby’s. “Thank you for your assistance too, Miss Michaels.”
“Abby, please.” She was blushing furiously. Logan noticed Brody glaring at the two of them during the interchange.
Two more men had stepped off of the bus, and the pastor turned and retraced his steps.
“Where did these guys come from?” Abby hissed to Emily, who had to admit they were certainly easy enough on the eyes.
Pastor Rhinehart gestured to the taller of the two, who had enormous dimples as he grinned at them. His long blonde hair fell loosely around his shoulders and his eyes were even bluer than the pastor’s.
“This is Fletcher Danning.” Fletcher began shaking hands with the other men as they once again introduced themselves.
“And this is Paul Findley.” Emily looked up and right into the hazel eyes staring at her. He wore his brown hair in a style that made it look like it needed to be combed while still appearing neat.
Paul didn’t mess around greeting the ball players. He walked straight to Emily and Abby.
“So, you’re our nurse for the next two weeks?” he asked Emily.
She mutely nodded.
“I’m her friend, Abby.” She had once again needed to introduce herself.
Logan was aggravated. He hadn’t liked the way the pastor greeted Emily, and he downright hated the way this Paul Findley guy was handling it. He forced a smile as he heard the camera clicking away.
“Let’s get the boys off,” Pastor Rhinehart suggested. He walked over to the bus and climbed the stairs. Logan could hear him saying something before he turned and came back down. Slowly, but surely, a dozen boys, probably in their early teens, got off the bus and stood in a haphazard line.
The pastor pulled a paper from the pocket of his jeans and unfolded it. “Let me just go ahead and pair you up as I introduce the boys. I chose partners by drawing names since none of you other than Paul and Fletch know the boys.”
“Let’s see. Kaleb Palmer, we’ll start with you.” One of the two smallest boys moved slowly out of the line and came to stand by the pastor. “You’re with Paul. I’m sure you remember he’s a dermatologist—a special doctor who takes care of skin.”
Emily wondered why his presence wouldn’t have fulfilled their medical requirements. While she didn’t know that much about dermatology, she assumed he would have the basics covered. Of course, it didn’t matter anyway. She promised Aaron to be their nurse, so she would.
Pastor Rhinehart faced the group of men. “I hope you don’t mind. Mr. Haynes was kind enough to provide me with a little information about each of you. I think it’s important for your little brother to know the kind of man he’s going to learn from.”
What were they supposed to do if they did mind, Logan wondered. His steel-toe work boot hitting Haynes’ butt seemed more and more appealing. Maybe the old coot could make a billboard out of that. “Sloopy’s Slammers Kick Butt!”
Paul turned and walked to the front of the men and beckoned for Kaleb to join him. “Come on, Kaleb. We’ll have fun.” It was with a bit more enthusiasm that the boy stepped over and stood by his “big brother”.
Pastor Rhinehart said something softly to the boys and a giant of a boy, larger than Brody for sure, with black hair and an obvious attitude problem, strode over to him. “Emmett Andrews, you’ll be with Fletch. Fletch owns an auto repair shop.
Even though Fletcher seemed genuinely pleased to be assigned to Emmett, the youth’s demeanor remained the same as he moved to stand beside the man.
“Kent Williams, you’re with me.” He was speaking to the only boy with a smile on his face. The chubby teenager walked over and stood by the pastor. Logan couldn’t help but think he might have been ideal for Stringbean.
“Boys, these men play for a very good fast-pitch softball team called Sloopy’s Slammers. Colton Rennard plays shortstop, but he works at a construction company that builds houses. He’s going to be Andy Davidson’s partner for the next two weeks.” Colton stepped forward at the same time as a big, blonde boy who looked like a speech bubble, with “Duh” printed in it, should be floating in front of his mouth at all times. Colton threw a look over his shoulder at Logan, and Logan was thankful the camera was aimed at Andy.
“Jacob Landon is an attorney, and he plays right field for the Slammers.” Pastor Rhinehart waited until Jake was in front of the others. “Duncan Laine, you’ll be with him.” The smaller of the two black youths looked satisfied as he walked over and stood by Jake.
“And for Matthew Newman, owner of his own hardware store and center fielder, we have…” He looked at his list. “Danny Adams.” A nondescript boy with brown hair returned Matt’s smile as he joined him.
“Jesse Rogers works at the hardware store and is the team’s center fielder.” Jesse was all but hopping up and down in place with excitement. Was he a glutton for punishment or just plain nuts? “Austin Nichols, you can come over here and stand by your big brother.” Logan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Stringbean when he saw the tall, thin boy with greasy, black hair and a “come and get it” attitude walking toward him. Jesse’s smile didn’t falter, though. Yep. He was just plain nuts.
“Cooper Grayson works at the construction company and plays third base. He’s paired up with Ryan Knutson.” Okay. This kid with the brown buzz cut probably had to be at least eleven or twelve to be there, but he could easily pass for seven or eight—at least in Logan’s inexperienced opinion.
“Brody Gaines, another attorney and second baseman, will be spending time with Luke Gaynor.” Oh, for Pete’s sake. The African American kid was bigger than Brody. Which one of them was supposed to be the “big” brother?
“Seth Stephens, you can come on over here. You get to be with Bo Daniels. He works at the construction company and plays first base.” There was something wrong with the red-haired boy—something more than shyness. He was afraid. He seemed to shrink in his shoes as he looked up at Bo, who was actually smiling.
There were two boys left. One of them looked like an all-American, blonde boy next door, and the other seemed to be his polar opposite. This teen, with stringy, black hair, was tall and too thin, like maybe he never got enough to eat.
“Spencer Ha
dley is paired up with Mason Wright, the foreman of the construction company and catcher for the Slammers, and that leaves you, Trevor Ryman. You’ll be with the owner of the construction company and the team’s pitcher, Logan Taylor.”
Logan watched as the blonde boy walked over to Mason, then managed to produce what he hoped was a welcoming smile for the young man coming toward him.
They were all paired up, and in Logan’s opinion, it was a recipe for disaster. Why hadn’t the pastor waited until they arrived and let them talk and get to know each other, then choose their own partners? His eyes met Emily’s and he saw in her eyes that she was unhappy with the whole thing, too.
She had stood by silently while the minister doled out boys like he was passing out lunch pails. She didn’t care for the method he used to pair them, nor the manner in which he introduced them to each other. Surely, something special about each boy could have been pointed out. The whole thing was a mess. These partners had to spend pretty much every waking hour together for the next fourteen days. No. The pastor with the velvet voice hadn’t handled it very well at all.
“Pastor Rhinehart, do you need help getting the boys’ tents out of the bus?” She thought somebody needed to break the awkward silence. Maybe conversations would start if they were busy.
“I’m sorry, Miss Scott. We only brought three tents.” Pastor Rhinehart was casting a strange look in her direction. “I understood that each man here has a tent for him and his charge to sleep in.”
Bo spoke up. “This b…bus is sure blue.” He had evidently remembered the reporter, who was now furiously typing on a tablet, in the nick of time.
Brody was eyeing the giant who was supposed to be sharing his tent. It was all Logan could do to keep from laughing. Poor Brody was probably praying that—Luke, wasn’t it?—didn’t roll over in his sleep and squash him like a bug.
“What about sleeping bags?” Logan asked. He was going to draw the line at trying to share his sleeping bag. He’d take the bus Haynes had left them, and drive to Ransom and buy some for the boys before he’d do that, reporter or not.
“Of course, each one of us has our own sleeping bag.” Pastor Rhinehart was starting to get on Emily’s nerves. Smooth voice or not, he didn’t seem to be very grateful to the team. Of course, the men weren’t doing this of their own volition. Maybe the pastor knew that and didn’t think they deserved his respect. Nope. She didn’t care. The fact was, they were helping out, and the man should be thankful he hadn’t needed to turn any of the boys away.
“Why don’t the boys get their stuff and you guys show them your tents?” she suggested, a smile plastered on her face.
“Come on, Trevor,” invited Logan. “I’ll help you carry your things.”
“I don’t have much,” Trevor self-consciously admitted. “Just a few clothes and a sleeping bag the church got for me.”
It was as Logan had thought. This boy was used to doing without. “Well, I’ll still help you.” He grinned at Trevor, and then followed him to the bus.
After some awkward words being exchanged and people getting on and off the bus, they were soon headed toward the campsites.
“Where should we pitch our tents?” Paul Findley asked Emily.
“You three can use sites seventy-nine, eighty, and eighty-one—one tent per site.” Surely she wouldn’t have to help these guys set up their tents too. Where was Aaron, anyway? He could have at least been there to greet them.
She turned to the photographer and reporter. “Are you camping, or commuting?”
“I’m camping,” the pretty, blonde woman with the camera told her, “but Samuel is commuting.” She held out her free hand. “I’m Kristine Carlson.”
“Emily Scott,” she said as they shook. “Would you like site eighty-four? It’s empty. You’ll be close enough to the group to see what’s going on, but far enough for a little privacy.”
Kristine smiled. “That’ll be perfect.” She turned to the reporter. “Samuel, will you help me set up my tent real quick?”
After he agreed and they had headed back to their vehicle to retrieve it, Mason’s “little brother” Spencer touched her arm.
“Is Mason’s and my campsite close to yours, babe?” the buff, blonde boy asked her. Babe? A teenager was calling her babe?
“She stays in the motorhome over there,” Mason answered curtly, indicating the campground host site. “And Spencer, you need to apologize to Miss Scott for talking to her like that.”
“Like what?” he asked, apparently clueless.
“It’s not respectful for you to call her anything other than Miss Scott. Now please apologize.”
Logan nearly snorted. “Love ‘em and Leave ‘em” Wright was telling the young man how to respect women? Heck, those two had probably been paired up just fine. More than likely, within a few days they’d be exchanging pointers.
“Mr. Taylor, if you want, I can sleep outside. It won’t bother me.” Trevor’s voice was so low that Logan could barely hear him.
Logan wished more than anything that he had his camper. He’d give this boy, who was used to doing without, a couple of weeks to remember. “Call me Logan.” He tried to catch Trevor’s eyes, but his gaze remained fixed on the ground in front of him. “We’ll be fine in the tent. It’s plenty big enough for the both of us.” His voice was gruff.
Emily, having overheard their exchange, was touched. She was certain that not every one of Logan’s teammates would respond as he had. In fact, she’d put money down that a couple of them would have jumped at the chance to keep the tents to themselves.
Abby, silently trailing along, whispered loudly, “I hope Luke doesn’t have a bad temper. I’m afraid he could make mincemeat out of Brody.”
“Brody’s a grown man. He can take care of himself. They all can…What are we still doing here anyway, Abby? We were here to greet them like Aaron told us to. Now it’s up to the guys. Let’s go to the camper.”
Abby looked around at the paired up males walking to the campsites and, to Emily’s surprise, didn’t argue. She turned and headed for the motor home. Fast.
In fact, Emily could barely keep up with her. “Where’s the fire?” They were practically jogging. “Will you slow down?”
It wasn’t until they were inside that Emily saw the tears running down her friend’s face.
“What’s wrong? Did one of the boys say something to you? I didn’t hear—”
“No.” Abby grabbed a tissue from the box next to the couch. “It’s just that some of those boys—did you see the one with Logan? He looks like he hasn’t had a decent meal in God knows how long. And if Seth—Bo’s little brother—hasn’t been beaten, I haven’t been a mental health therapist for three years.”
Emily silently sank to the couch beside Abby. “Do you really think that’s true?” The thought of anybody, but especially a child, going hungry or being abused made her feel sick.
“Em, you’re a nurse. You’ve seen enough of it.” Abby looked at her accusingly. “You know it just as well as I do.”
Abby was right. It was just that Emily didn’t want to know. Of course, these boys didn’t come from perfect homes or they wouldn’t be there. But to think that some of them were abused or neglected, and there really wasn’t anything she could do about it, was just too hard to handle.
Somebody knocked on the door.
Abby quickly dried her eyes as Emily walked over and opened the door. Pastor Rhinehart stood on the bottom step.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Scott, but we need to put the cold food away, and I just realized I have no idea where the kitchen is.”
“It’s set up in the back of the recreation building—over by the playground. I left a door key to the kitchen on the stove so you can lock it once you’re finished. The other people here probably wouldn’t bother your supplies, but Aaron didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances. There are three coin-operated washers and dryers located in the main part of the building. They’re accessible to anybody camp
ing here.” She just couldn’t bring herself to offer her assistance at the moment and didn’t think she was shirking her duties by not doing so.
“Thank you.” He started to leave but then turned around to face her. “I know you probably think my method of pairing the men and boys was rather unorthodox. I prayed first, though, and I believe only good will come from this.”
“I hope so,” Emily told him. Then, as he walked away, she softly repeated, “I hope so.”
Chapter 12
“Because it will be uncomfortable in our tent if we don’t keep it neat.” Jesse was explaining why Austin with an Attitude needed to put his things away in an orderly fashion.
“We just sleep in it at night. I don’t see the big deal.” Austin sneered at Jesse.
Jesse’s smile faltered just a little as he firmly responded. “It’s a big deal because we are human beings and don’t live in pig pens. Now, I’ve asked you enough. Get yourself in there and straighten that mess up.”
Wow. Who knew Stringbean had it in him?
Muttering some colorful language, Austin did as he was told.
Logan and Trevor had already put the boy’s meager possessions in their tent. It looked like the young man only had a couple of pairs of jeans, a few ragged looking shirts, and underwear. The church evidently provided him with a care package consisting of a bar of soap, generic shampoo, and can of deodorant. What Logan would give for a store and his credit card right then!
“Any chicks around here?” the teenage legend in his own mind, Spencer, asked Mason. The two of them had just joined the small group, who had congregated at the picnic tables in front of site seventy-four, to witness the Jesse-Austin show.
Mason just glared at the boy.
“Come and sit with us,” Bo invited Seth, who had placed himself as far away from the rest of them as he could.
Without a word, the red-headed boy obediently stood up and meekly walked over and sat down on the bench in front of Bo, who had parked himself on the table. Logan and Bo exchanged glances, a question in Bo’s eyes. Logan nodded. He thought the boy was used to either doing what he was told or suffering the consequences in a very painful way.
Counting On It (Hearts for Ransom Book 1) Page 6