“It must be hard, living with all that pressure to be perfect,” she said quietly. He watched her eyes deepen again, and it wasn’t embarrassment that darkened their hue this time. “Don’t you ever just let go and do whatever you...um, whatever you want to do?”
Her eyes. Her lips. The way she leaned forward. Everything screamed of invitation. But in his thirty-four years, Rick had never kissed a woman the first time without asking. It was something a gentleman didn’t do. He leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers. “Summer, I’d like very much to—”
A whistled tune. Close by. Someone in the dining hall was headed their way.
Rick straightened and cleared his throat. “I’d like to help you get the girls under control.”
She drew back, looking like he’d slapped her. “Thanks,” she said curtly, and the irritation he’d grown familiar with returned. “But I think Tara and I will be able to handle it by ourselves.” She rubbed her hands together briskly as if demonstrating how finished she was with the conversation—and him—just as Kenny strolled into the kitchen.
“Caught ya,” the guard announced with a broad grin. “I saw the light and knew somebody was after cookies.”
Rick consciously unclenched his fists, which had tightened at the interruption. Sure as hell, what he’d almost gotten a taste of would’ve been sweeter than any cookie.
* * *
SUMMER’S HEART POUNDED a strange nonrhythm. Rick had been about to kiss her, she was sure. What she wasn’t sure of was if she wanted to thank Kenny or throttle him. Feuding parts of her cheered for both.
The grown-up part she’d been trying so hard to cultivate these past couple of years told her that kissing a guy she’d considered the enemy just a few hours ago was capricious and wouldn’t lead anywhere she needed to go.
The wild child was totally miffed, though. A good kiss—and she sensed this would’ve been on the superlative end of the scale—was one of the things that should never be passed up, provided it was between two people who had no other commitments.
Did Rick have a girlfriend? She hadn’t thought much about that—hadn’t allowed herself to think about him in terms of any kind of relationship. And just the idea she was thinking about it now scattered her thoughts willy-nilly.
Rick and Kenny began discussing the morning’s skunk encounter, and somewhere between the polar extremes of her thoughts, her mediator said to get out of there while things were in neutral.
“I’m going to leave the cookies with y’all,” she said when Kenny hesitated in his own skunk tale for a moment. “If I stay, I’ll only want more.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Something in Rick’s tone fractured the reserve she’d momentarily gained. Was he insinuating something, or was her imagination running away with her? Either way, she needed to get out of there. Immediately. She scooted to the edge of the counter to jump down.
Rick’s hands flew to her waist, lifting her. Involuntarily, her eyes swept up to meet his, and she saw her own frustration mirrored there. Time seemed to slow down as the press of his thumbs along her rib cage imprinted on her consciousness. She was still aware of where they’d been long after they were gone and he’d set her on her feet.
“Some for the road.” Kenny grabbed a handful of cookies and screwed the lid back onto the enormous jar before they all left the kitchen.
Her irritation and frustration coalesced into one manageable, meaningful mass, which grew with every step back to her cabin.
By the time she reached her door, she was carrying a weighted balloon in her chest cavity, and though she tried to mollify it, her “Good night” to Kenny and Rick was expelled on a petulant huff.
She closed the door, aching for the kiss that had been thwarted by Kenny, who’d made it his job—intentional or not—to be their chaperone...all the way back to her cabin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BY NOON FRIDAY, SOMETHING was in the air—and it didn’t look or feel normal. An eerie yellow tinge clung to everything, turning Kentucky Lake an ominous shade of green. The surrounding trees looked as though an artist had flecked them with a neon hue.
Sometime during the night, Summer awoke from a fitful, sweat-drenched sleep and turned her air conditioner on for the first time.
The morning broke oppressively hot with humidity and temperature both hovering close to one hundred. The nature hike before breakfast had been like herding slugs.
True to their word, the girls lined up throughout the day with Greta emerging as an obvious leader, always making sure everyone was in the proper place.
A couple of tiffs broke out. One between Kaelyn and Braelyn, which seemed to be just normal sibling bickering. The other was a bit of a surprise when M&M told Lucy to “Shut up” after a particularly long whine about the heat.
Summer corrected both of the girls, secretly delighting in M&M’s spunk. She tried not to overreact when the verbal exchange took place right in front of Charlie. Some testiness was to be expected in a group of girls living in such close proximity...at any age. And the oppressive heat was enough to make even a hardened soldier—like Rick—grouchy. Charlie smiled at her afterward, though. That was a good sign.
She’d done a fair job of keeping her mind off the almost-kiss with Rick the night before. But the current situation had her shivering in anticipation despite the heat.
Rick stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, and while she was trying to concentrate on his words, his voice kept getting lost in the sensations zinging through her as his breath feathered down the back of her neck.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and she nodded, tightening her grip on the bow. “Okay, nock the arrow.” Her hands shook, and it took a couple of tries to get the bowstring to stay within the slit. His hand closed around hers, helping her keep it in place. Large and warm, it engulfed hers with its size.
“Now, bring the bow up and pull back the arrow with the string in one easy motion.” His voice caressed the area behind her ear as he bent lower to help her aim.
She did as she was instructed, but the hard plane of his chest pressing against her shoulder blade made her pulse accelerate. The tip of the arrow wobbled all over the place.
“Just relax,” Rick whispered as the arrowhead zigzagged back and forth across the intended target. His low chuckle only made the movement worse, until finally Summer just closed her eyes and let it fly.
A gale of laughter erupted from the group behind them. She opened her eyes to see the arrow sticking in the ground about fifteen feet away...a good thirty-five feet short of the target.
“Okay,” Rick said. “Not a bad first try.”
“Whoo, that poor mole never knew what hit him,” Neil joked.
“Don’t you mean Talpidae, Mr. Neil?” Reggie had proven to be a whiz kid at remembering scientific names.
Summer laughed and handed the bow to Rick, grateful to gain some distance from the heat he’d stirred inside her.
Out of nowhere, a clap of thunder rumbled as a strong wind whipped simultaneously through the surrounding trees. A black front headed in from the southwest corner of the archery range.
“Everybody to the dining hall.” She pulled the arrow from the hole it had created. “And don’t forget your water bottles.”
Jimbo stood near her, but he looked to Rick for confirmation. “Us, too, Mr. Rick?”
“Ms. Summer said ‘everybody,’ Jimbo. That means the boys as well as the girls. And don’t worry about lining up.”
Finally! Summer smiled at Rick’s underlying message of support. If he really was trying to make things better between them, she supposed the next move was up to her.
As the kids took off with Tara and Neil, she turned to him. “Rick, I’m sorry about the warmonger crack yesterday. I didn’t really mean it. I’m thankful for our men and women who serve in the military.” She held out the arrow. “I don’t have an olive branch, but I’m hoping this can have the same effect.”
His chin buckled in question, then he took it from h
er and held it up solemnly. “I humbly accept this token. May your people and my people live in peace from this day forward.”
A loud, unexpected snicker bubbled out of her chest, and the surprise on Rick’s face transformed it into a full-blown laugh. The force behind it became uncontrollable, and the more she tried to stifle it, the harder she laughed. Tears streamed down her face, and her breathing came in spurts.
His laughter joined hers and built into a loud bellow. “What...are we...laughing at?” he gasped between guffaws.
“Us and our silliness.”
Another warning rumble of thunder sounded closer than the first, sobering them both. Their laughter gave way to broad smiles, and then softened as their gazes locked for a long moment.
Rick’s mouth twitched at one corner. “Was it just me, or was Kenny’s timing last night as terrible as I thought?”
“That depends.” Summer raised an eyebrow. “Were you about to kiss me when he came in?”
“I was.”
She grinned up at him and nodded. “Then his timing was terrible.” A large drop of rain plopped on top of her head, followed by another and another.
“Good to know.” Rick gave her a wink and slung the quiver over his shoulder as the sky opened up.
With a squeal, Summer took off in a run, Rick right behind her. Exhilaration pumped through her, propelling her across the field.
The slower kids had fallen behind, and she and Rick caught up easily. They slowed their pace to stay in the rear, encouraging the kids to hurry, but Summer found it difficult to hold back. She wasn’t worried about getting wet, but rather her heart was skipping in her chest, and she had the most remarkable urge to skip along to the beat.
By the time they reached the dining hall, everyone was drenched. The yellow in the air had shifted to a green hue that made the hairs on Summer’s neck rise. The barometric pressure was dropping fast.
“We need to get to the storm shelter,” she said to Rick just as Charlie came charging from the back of the building.
He visibly caught himself and cleared his throat before he spoke. “Weather radio just went off. Everybody to the storm shelter for a little while. Ginny’s already got the door open.” He motioned to Rick to join him in the kitchen.
Summer saw fear register in some of the kids’ eyes. This was a time when they needed the assurance of order and control. “Everybody line up...quietly. Girls behind Ms. Tara. Boys behind Mr. Neil.”
Wordlessly, the kids followed orders. Tara and Neil led them through the kitchen and out the back door.
Rick and Charlie grabbed a couple of boxes, and Summer stopped to see if she could help.
Charlie shook his head. “Go on. We’ve got these.”
“What’s the report?” she asked.
“Tornado warning for the county. Funnel cloud spotted near Benton.”
Ten miles away wasn’t very far. Summer’s stomach twisted as she recalled the marina that had been virtually destroyed when a tornado touched down two years ago only three miles from here.
When she opened the back door for Rick and Charlie, a gust of wind jerked it from her hold, slamming it against the building. Stinging rain pelted her face, making it difficult to keep her eyes open. More by feel and instinct than sight, she forced the door closed and made a blind dash for the safety of the underground shelter a few yards away. Rick caught her hand as she reached the steps and guided her in. She heard him throw the bolt behind her.
The rain had broken the heat and the thick concrete walls were damp with condensation. A musty, earthy scent permeated the air. Although the room was built for double the number of people, the kids huddled against one another, cold and scared, on the wooden benches that lined the walls.
“Whew! I feel like a drowned rat!” Summer forced a bright smile as she made a mental head count but felt it fade as her heart leaped into her throat. Something was wrong. Someone was missing. Her chest tightened as she counted the kids again. Twenty. Rick. Ginny. Charlie. Tara. Neil. “Oh, my God! Kenny!” The name exploded from her lips.
Before she could reach the door, Rick already had it opened and was outside. “Bolt it back!” he shouted as he forced it closed against the wind.
* * *
RICK RAN, TRYING TO KEEP HIS concentration on Kenny and not the trees whipping ominously around him...or the rain blowing straight-line into his face...or the lightning that every few seconds edged his surroundings in opalescent blue and brought a crackle of static with it.
As he ran, he scanned his memory. He hadn’t seen Kenny out today. Maybe the weather had kept the security guard from his normal afternoon activity, which was fishing. Was it possible he was sleeping through this? The wind had to be giving his travel trailer quite a buffeting.
A cold shudder passed through Rick, propelling him faster. Living in Arkansas, he’d seen the remnants of mobile homes demolished by tornadoes. That dilapidated camper of Kenny’s wouldn’t stand a chance.
Relief flooded him when the trailer came into view with the security guard’s old Jeep parked beside it.
Rick pounded on the door with his fist. “Kenny!” he shouted. “Kenny!” He waited a few seconds, but the door didn’t open. He ran around to the back, beating a staccato rhythm hard against the metal walls. He covered the entire length, around the end, and back around to the front. As he reached the window, the door flew open.
Rick lunged, grabbed the door and used his momentum to leap into the camper and close the door behind him.
Kenny stood wide-eyed and openmouthed, shirtless and grasping a throw around his middle.
“Get dressed. Quick! Tornado.” Rick kept his words to a minimum.
They had the desired effect.
“Shitfire!” Kenny exploded, and hightailed it to the bedroom end of the trailer.
The door handle jerked in Rick’s hand as the camper swayed menacingly. The metal shuddered and creaked, and a foreboding tremor passed through him. “Hurry!” He felt the movement of the air outside change directions.
Kenny came running, pulling a T-shirt over his head. His flip-flops were a mistake, but there was no time to change.
“Storm shelter,” Rick yelled, trying to be heard over the roar as they jumped off the steps and slammed the door.
With the wind now at his back, Rick was being pushed by an unseen hand into a swirling blackness. He fought to stay upright as the force threatened to topple him forward. Tree limbs twisted in a frightful, otherworldly dance. A cry brought him to a stop and he whirled around.
Kenny was on the ground, holding the back of his head, a dazed expression on his face.
Combat training sprang to the forefront of Rick’s brain when he saw the fallen comrade. In an instant, Kenny was Dunk and the lightning cracking around him was sniper fire. He rushed to the security guard and slung him over his shoulder as a deafening crack splintered the air around them.
Blocking out everything else, Rick focused on breathing, on keeping enough air to sustain him as his lungs protested the additional burden. “Not far now,” he reminded himself, concentrating on the placement of one foot in front of the other time and time again, until at last he found Charlie blocking the door of the shelter open against the raging wind.
Rick gave his charge over to the helping hands that reached through the door, and the door slammed shut of its own accord as soon as his foot hit the steps.
Cries of relief filled the air. The warming presence of Summer’s body hugging him tightly grounded him back in the moment. More hands, more bodies joined hers, all exuberant with joy, as everyone rushed to greet him and Kenny.
Ginny immediately started checking Kenny’s head, which he’d bumped hard when his flip-flop broke and sent him sprawling. He kept insisting he was fine, and finally she agreed.
When the initial excitement was over, it was Summer who took the lead in calming the kids, diverting their attention with some group games and the snacks Rick and Charlie had carried over in the boxes. Then Neil took o
ver, showing off some remarkable shadow hands with the help of a flashlight.
Rick smiled at the kids’ absorption in the activity, their fears of the raging storm outside sidelined by a few emergency flashlights. His smile grew wider when Summer came to settle beside him on the bench.
“I’m glad you and Kenny are okay.” In the dim light he could see tears brimming in her eyes.
This time yesterday, he’d been ready to sign her discharge papers. Today, she was a caring person who could calm twenty children—and several adults—with the flash of a smile and a few words. What a difference twenty-four hours could make...especially now that he knew she’d wanted him to kiss her.
He gave her a smile. “Another good thing to know.”
* * *
EXHAUSTION DESCENDED ON SUMMER like the rainstorm from earlier, and her thoughts started to blur.
They’d spent three hours in the storm shelter as wave upon wave of severe storms passed through the area.
Once the storms were over, everyone had exited the shelter to find the entire camp littered with limbs and branches ripped from the trees by the wind.
Kenny’s worst fears had been confirmed. The cracking sound he and Rick heard had been a downed tree that toppled directly across his trailer, effectively demolishing it and most everything he’d moved in for the month.
Rick was vaulted to reluctant hero status since Kenny would likely have been killed as the bulk of the tree tore through the bedroom end of the camper.
The remainder of the night had been spent letting the kids call their parents to let them know they were okay, salvaging anything of Kenny’s that could be saved from the debris left behind in the wreckage and dragging the fallen limbs and branches into piles.
A cold supper of sandwiches and chips seemed to satisfy the kids, who appeared to be walking in their sleep by lights-out. They’d cheered, though, when Rick announced no nature hike for Saturday morning and Ginny pushed breakfast up to nine so everybody could sleep in.
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