The Summer Place

by Pamela Hearon

  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.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DANIEL’S SMILE SAID IT ALL as he rose from the water a couple of seconds ahead of Carlos. Not only was he a fast learner, he was also a fast swimmer, beating all the other boys in every race during the past week.

  Summer released the sigh that pressed in her lungs as she watched M&M. The girl was still only dog-paddling in waist-deep water while wearing a life jacket...another screwup on her side of the scoreboard.

  Her phone conversation with Dr. Shelton had at least made her feel a little better about the publicity the newspaper had given the camp. He didn’t think it likely that anyone would try to dig for a mammoth. According to him, only a scientist would know what to look for, and a scientist wouldn’t run the risk of working in the dark. And, as he�
��d pointed out, what would a layperson do with something he found? Any find would be suspicious, thanks to the publicity the site had received.

  So while she was breathing easier about that situation, she still couldn’t shake the uneasiness about the Byassee place. No one was searching for fossils there. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rid them of the image of the dead kit and the smashed whiskey bottle.

  “Why’s everybody so sad?” M&M stopped in front of Summer and peered into her eyes.

  Summer forced a laugh. “Everybody’s not sad.”

  M&M nodded sagely and glanced around the swimming area. “A lot of people are. You. Ms. Tara. Mr. Rick.”

  “Maybe we just hate it that the camp is coming to an end. We’ll miss you all.”

  A mischievous twinkle lit the child’s eyes. “I know something that will make y’all happy.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  M&M nodded and unbuckled her life jacket, flinging it onto the beach. “Watch.”

  Her form wasn’t perfect. She slapped the water hard and shifted her face from side to side with every breath, but the child swam across the area from rope to rope.

  The entire camp population came to a halt, silently watching the feat.

  When she popped up on the other end, a roar of applause greeted her, and she acknowledged the ovation by raising both hands and waving like an Olympian.

  “You little imp!” Summer called. “When did you figure out you could do that?”

  “Last night,” the child shouted. “I dreamed it. I think it was my pretty heart speaking to me. It told me I could swim and make people happy.”

  That announcement was met by more cheers, and M&M beamed.

  Neil hoisted her onto his shoulders for a triumphant ride through the crowd, being met with high fives all around.

  * * *

  RICK JOINED IN THE CHEERS as Neil picked the child up. From somewhere in the distance, a noise floated around his ear—a boat motor backfired with a pop.

  The beach...the kids...Summer...Neil—everything in his vision zoomed away as if he were watching through a camera lens and needed a wide-angle shot.

  He watched Dunk lift the child with tender care, staggering under the additional weight that should have been an easy carry.

  “Can you make it?”

  Dunk nodded, his face etched in determination as he turned and fled.

  Another lap around the burned-out shell of a building turned up no survivors, and with every step, a sickening realization coiled his muscles tighter. The child had been left behind to die. A decoy, most likely.

  Rage fueled his movement as he sprinted to catch up.

  He could hear Dunk’s labored breathing.

  “Let me have her, Dunk.”

  “The name’s Neil, remember? And I’ve got her.” Neil glared at him, the indignation in his eyes magnified by the thickness of his glasses. “I may not be a marine, but I’m capable of carrying a child.”

  “No, I, uh...” Rick ran a hand down his heated face, trying to gain his equilibrium. He glanced around the group of still-cheering kids, thankful no one else had heard. Thankful Summer hadn’t heard. She would’ve known immediately what had happened. “I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t strong enough to carry her. I just thought since it’s time to go, maybe I would carry her on up the hill.”

  Right on cue, Tara blew a whistle. “Time to get washed up for dinner.”

  The swimmers started slogging to the shore, gathering up their towels and shoes.

  Neil looked at the hill, obviously sizing it up and making a quick calculation about the slope and the additional weight he carried on his shoulders.

  Rick made use of the time by dropping under the water to rid himself of the cold sweat oozing from his pores.

  “Okay, man.” Neil grinned, the indiscretion forgiven. “She’s all yours.”

  M&M gave a delighted squeal as they exchanged her from one set of shoulders to the other.

  On the way up the hill, Summer fell in step beside them. Rick’s heart thumped a double beat that had nothing to do with the extra weight of the child, which he hardly noticed, and everything to do with the fact that Summer was going to speak to him again.

  “You know, M&M,” she said, “I think listening to your pretty heart has earned you a wand.”

  The child let out another excited squeal, beating her hands on top of Rick’s head.

  They reached the summit, and M&M held her arms out to Summer, who lifted her down with Rick’s help. They both were engulfed by the other members of the female group, chattering noisily about the turn of events in the past few minutes.

  Rick watched them, thinking about the same thing, but with none of the enthusiasm. Oh, he was happy for M&M. But after the incident this morning at the Byassee place, Summer had returned to her cool distance, while the concern and fear in her eyes had put a choke hold on him he couldn’t break loose from.

  Plus, he’d had to admit to himself that his own recent frustration had been fueled in part by self-serving motives. He’d wanted Sid to know what a good job he was doing...wanted his approval...wanted his nod for the pending job.

  Were he and Summer really so different?

  He touched the star beneath his shirt.

  M&M had earned her wand, and at the same time the magic in his was sifting away.

  While that should lighten his load, the heaviness in his heart told him he was losing something precious.

  And he sure as hell didn’t want that to happen again.

  * * *

  “LOVE SHOULDN’T BE this difficult.” Summer dug her feet into the soft sand and patted it to cover her ankles. “I was watching the kids’ tug-of-war this afternoon and thinking how much that game is like love. You pull and tug, first one way, then the next. It goes back and forth, and then somebody weakens and ends up losing.”

  “Tell me about it.” Tara’s voice lacked its usual spark.

  It was such a relief to have her friend back to talk with again, even if the subject made Summer’s heart feel like it was being grilled on a spit over an open fire. Neither of them was in the mood for lemonade and chocolate in the cabin tonight. Instead, they’d chosen to hang out on the beach, despite the drop in the temperature—which Tara insisted on blaming Summer and Rick for.

  “Selfish. He actually called me that to my face.” Summer bit her lip to stop it from trembling.

  “He doesn’t really believe that, and you know it. We all see how much you love this place.” Tara tossed a pebble absently into the water, and they watched the ripples fan out.

  Summer pointed to them. “The ripple effect. Another term he used. Every action leads to another one, and before you know it, it’s gotten out of hand and can’t be controlled. The hell of it is he’s right.” She formed a circle with her hands and let it grow larger as she spoke. “I get this great marketing idea for the camp, but Rick gets pissed because the kids miss part of the space lesson he’s sure might direct one of them to astronaut training. The article gives us some amazing coverage, but maybe too much because somebody finds the Byassee place, and a kit gets killed. I try to do something that I think will benefit my parents, but Rick sees my motives as selfish. I fall for him in a big way, and he thinks I’m a spoiled brat.” She folded her arms across her chest, warming her fingers under her arms. “My dad’s right. I’m a total screwup.”

  Tara’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “Does your dad say that?”

  “He doesn’t have to say it. I see it in his eyes. Hear it in his voice. But he trusts Rick. Trusts him implicitly.” A hard lump formed in her throat, and she took a deep breath. “I wish there was some way to get them out from under this debt. I’m terrified this worry will be the end of my dad.” A tear crept from the corner of her eye. “I mean, Charlie’s going to retire soon. Rick’s not going to be around next summer. The whole point was to prove I could run this place, thinking that might take the pressure off.”

  Tara held out a tissue. “Have some
faith in yourself, Summer.”

  “Why? Nobody else does.”

  “You’ve got good intentions.”

  “Yeah...right. You know what they say about the road to hell...” Summer wiped her eyes with the tissue.

  Tara snorted. “That’s one I’m definitely familiar with.” She pulled another tissue from her pocket and wiped her own eyes. “But I want to believe good intentions are rewarded sometimes, too.”

  They sighed in unison.

  A fish jumped out of the water, making a light splash. They watched in silence as the ripples widened in the cove until the tiny laps crawled onto the beach.

  “The ripple effect,” Summer murmured. “Once they’ve started, you can’t pull them back in.”

  * * *

  RICK WAITED UNTIL HE SAW the shadowy figure making her way back to the girls’ dorm.

  He’d watched Summer and Tara go down to the beach after the quick but tense staff meeting. No doubt Tara had needed some time to discuss whatever it was that had happened at home. She was obviously still upset. Ginny and Summer had clucked around her all day like mother hens, while the men in the camp had been kept in the dark about the entire situation.

  A welcome cool front had come through on the heels of the blistering heat. Rick kept an eye on Summer’s cabin as he grabbed a jacket. The cabin stayed dark, so she must still be on the beach.

  He could discern the small figure, huddled with her knees under her chin and her hood up.

  She didn’t move as he approached, not even when he called to her from the edge of the trees.

  “Not speaking to me, eh? Then I’ll have to do the talking.” He plopped down on the towel beside her.

  A startled Tara threw her iPod with an “Eeep!”

  “I thought you were Summer, Tara. I’m so sorry.” Tara wiped her eyes. Damn. She’d been crying.

  “Summer’s staying with the girls tonight.” The young woman retrieved her iPod and sat back down beside him with a sniff.

  “That bad, huh?” Not a great opening, but one she could either take or back away from.