Counting On It (Hearts for Ransom Book 1) (2 page)

“Taylor, get your butt out of bed. We’ve got some fishin’ to get done today!” Jesse Rogers, left fielder for the Slammers, was smacking something soft over Logan’s head. He knew he shouldn’t have agreed to a coin toss for the bed. Jesse always won. Now he was on the couch—fair game for his buddy to torment.

“I’m awake.” He grabbed the item Jesse was hitting him with. What was that? “That better be clean!” He threw the jock strap to the floor as he turned and sat up. “What time is it?”

“Five-thirty. I told you we have to get out on the water early if we want to catch fish.” The farm boy from central Illinois frowned at Logan. “I know growin’ up in a big city that your idea of fishin’ is probably pickin’ out a lobster in a restaurant, but I’m serious here.” Logan couldn’t help but think that his teammate looked like a clown in training, with his red hair and green eyes open wide to emphasize his point. His height of six-four and gangly build had earned him the nickname “Stringbean”, which Jesse answered to with pride.

“Where’s Wright?” Logan figured Mason would have been the one flapping a jock strap in his face to wake him up.

“I don’t know. He was up and gone when I came out here.” Jesse walked to the kitchen table. “I got us some donuts out. We don’t have time to fix anything else.”

He was already wolfing his second one down when Logan stood up and looked over to see the other couch with sheets and blanket neatly folded at the end of it. Where had his buddy gone off to so early? Mason wasn’t a morning person unless … oh, crap. Emily Scott probably got up at the crack of dawn. He’d better get up and out there to do some damage control.

Logan was halfway through getting dressed when he stopped and asked himself why he even cared if Mason got anywhere with Emily. Maybe it was because Logan was the only one who got the pleasure of knocking her off of her high horse. He didn’t examine his motives any further.

______________________

Emily walked around the corner of her camper and into a wall. It was a good thing the wall reached out and caught her, or she would have fallen over backward.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Emily looked up into brown eyes. The man had to be close to six feet tall and from the feel of him, a solid block of muscle. It was when she noticed his close-cropped, black hair and neatly trimmed beard, she recognized him as one of the men from the night before.

She backed several feet away, causing him to drop her arms.

“Can I help you?” Like it or not, she had a job to do.

His eyes twinkled as he flashed a confident, bright smile at her. “I just wanted to come over and apologize for last night. The team got carried away and didn’t realize we were making so much noise.”

“Team?” she had to ask in spite of herself. Did they have video game teams or something?

There was that grin again. “Yeah. All of us play on the Sloopy’s Slammers. You know—the first place fast-pitch softball team?”

“Sloopy’s Slammers?” Emily fought the giggles she felt building. That was the silliest name she had ever heard.

His smile faltered a little. “You’ve never heard of us?”

“I guess not.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Well, allow me to introduce you to the best catcher in the state.” He flashed his bright smile again, seemingly unaware of her amusement. “Mason Wright, at your service.”

Emily didn’t know what to say. First of all, it was too early for a visit. Secondly, if she actually spoke with him for any length of time, she wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face. She’d just stick to business. She could do that.

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Wright?”

“I wondered if you were free this evening. It’s supposed to be a nice night, and I’d like to fix dinner for you. We can take it somewhere private where the rest of these clowns won’t bother us.”

Was this guy for real? It wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning, and he was over here
hitting on her
?

“Look, Mr. Wright, I’m —”

“going to be catching up with me.” Logan spoke as he seemed to appear from nowhere.

What in the world was going on? Were there really two men out here expecting her to make plans with them for the evening? She was dreaming. No. She was having a nightmare.

Without a word, Emily turned and walked back into the motor home. Both men stood there with their mouths hanging open.

“Way to go, Taylor,” Mason growled. “I almost had her with me.”

“Didn’t sound like it to me.” Logan wasn’t going to cry about it, either.

“What are you doing over here, anyway?”

“Jesse is up and ready for us to go fishing. When we saw you were gone, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out where you’d headed off to. A woman is within a quarter of a mile.” Logan remained unfazed by his friend’s frustration.

Mason’s gaze moved from Logan to the door Emily had disappeared behind, and back again. “I guess I’ll have to try again later since you managed to scare her off.”

The two men started walking toward their site.

“Why did you say that about her being with you tonight anyway? It was pretty obvious last night that you two aren’t on the best of terms,” Mason observed.

Logan didn’t know what to say for a moment. The truth of the matter was, he really didn’t have a good reason for rescuing Emily from Mason’s clutches. He just felt it was necessary.

“She’s not the kind of woman you usually go after,” he finally came up with.

Mason snorted. “She’s female and gorgeous. That’s good enough for me.”

Logan gave him a sidelong glance. “She’s
too
good for you. Em’s not the kind of woman you use and throw away.”

His friend stopped dead in his tracks, surprise written on his face. “Why didn’t you just tell me, Logan?”

“Tell you what?” Logan was confused. He thought he
had
just told him.

“You’re after her yourself.” Mason smiled smugly and resumed walking. “I’ll back off, man. I’m not gonna step on your toes. After all, you two have a history.”

An automatic protest came to Logan’s lips, but then he stopped. For whatever reason, he felt the need to protect Emily Scott from his friend. If letting Mason think he wanted her for himself was the only way, then so be it. They were only going to be there two more days, and then he wouldn’t see her again.

“Thanks,” was his quiet response.

It had taken the better part of an hour and three cups of coffee that morning before Emily worked up enough courage to go back outside. Thankfully, both men had been gone.

“Any problems?” Aaron Boone’s tone of voice told her it wasn’t the first time he had asked her.

Aaron was taking his usual afternoon jog through the campground, stopping to check on things. For a moment, she considered telling him about the previous night, but then decided it wasn’t worth worrying him.

“Nope.” She was concerned about his wife, though. “How’s Sara?”

Aaron’s gray eyes clouded over. His wife had just had a hysterectomy after being diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She was in her mid-fifties, and otherwise a very healthy woman, so the doctors were optimistic about a full recovery. It was all the chemotherapy and radiation Aaron and Sara were dreading. They had a tough road ahead of them.

“You know my wife, Em.” Aaron’s smile was strained. “She’s a fighter.”

Aaron and Sara had been like a second set of parents to Emily since her mom and dad had been their resident summer campsite hosts for nearly twenty years. It saddened her to think of their oncoming struggles.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” was all she could think to offer.

Aaron suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Actually, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you about. Just remember I thought your folks would be here when I agreed to all of this.”

Trepidation curled in the pit of her stomach. “Agreed to all of what?”

“Well, you know that June is our slowest month?” July and August were much busier in the campground. “I contracted with a local church for a big-brother type program to be held out here. It only lasts two weeks, but it starts on Sunday.”

It was Thursday. Emily tried not to panic. “How many people are we talking about, Aaron?”

“At last count, they had a dozen boys signed up. They were still looking for men to serve as mentors, though, so the boys may not all get to come.”

Despite the beating her nerves were enduring at the moment, Emily couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness for any boy who wanted to be in a program like that and had to be turned away. For many of them it would probably be one more disappointment in a life already filled with them.

“What do you need me to do?” She wasn’t going to complain. It wouldn’t do her any good, and her friend didn’t need the added stress of thinking she might wig out on him.

“We’ll want to reserve at least twelve campsites for them.” His brows furrowed as he thought. “Do you know off the top of your head when the campers over in the seventies sites will be leaving?”

She didn’t even need to check. “Saturday.” Logan Taylor would once again become a distant—unpleasant—memory.

Aaron nodded. “Good.” His eyes studied the distance between the host site and the area he was referring to. “Let’s reserve sites seventy through eighty-three. That’ll give them a couple of extra sites just in case they need them. It’ll put the group in nice proximity to you, too.” Aaron settled his baseball cap on his head, nearly obscuring his dark brown hair. It was a “Sloopy’s Slammers” hat. Maybe she should have heard of the unfortunately named team.

“Okay. Anything else?” So far, it sounded like nothing more than a busy campground.

“You’ll have to be on your toes with the rules. I’m afraid a lot of these kids aren’t going to be the most well-behaved young men in the world, and their sponsors may not be able to keep up with all their hijinks.”

“So, reserve sites seventy through eighty-three, and police the campground a little more rigidly. Is that all?” She couldn’t imagine what else he would want her to do. Emily couldn’t quite see herself sitting around a campfire, roasting marshmallows and singing “Kum-ba-yah” with twenty-four males of various ages.

“I told the pastor you’d help set up some of their group activities. They’re planning on some tournaments—volleyball, horseshoes, and kickball, I think. They’ll probably have a wiener roast or cookout of some sort, too.” He gave her a weak smile. “You know where they should set up for activities like that, and I don’t want them just running rampant through the grounds bothering our other guests.”

Wonderful. It sounded like she’d be interacting with them more than she’d like after all. “At least I won’t have trouble with the men. I’m sure they have to pass some sort of screening to participate, don’t they?”

Aaron nodded. “Rigorous. That was one thing Pastor Rhinehart assured me of. We might have some troubled youth out here, but the men will be of excellent character. They’re going to be serving as role models.”

She started to ask if he would be able to take a more active role in the workings of the campground since it was just her alone instead of both of her parents, but then she remembered Sara. Aaron wouldn’t have time to spend here. She’d have to handle it herself. She looked at the man who she’d always thought of as a second father and made a decision.

“I’ll take care of everything, and it’s going to be just fine. You take care of Sara and yourself.” She was proud of herself for not letting her anxiety show.

He reached out and gently tugged her ponytail. “I know you will, Em.” He gave her a sad smile. “I’d better get the rest of my run in and get back home. Sara’s not supposed to be up and about on her own yet today, and you know how she is. I’m liable to get home and find her cleaning out the refrigerator.”

“Take care,” Emily called as he started jogging away.

“Can I talk to you?” The voice startled her so much she nearly wet herself. She turned to see that Logan Taylor had walked up behind her.

“What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Look, Emily, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He slowly lowered his hands. Much to her horror, Emily found herself looking him over. The past few years hadn’t been bad to the bane of her existence. He wasn’t stocky like his friend that morning was, but he was very…muscular. His brown hair was finger-combing tousled, and his eyes looked like melted chocolate as they seemed to search hers.

“Can we just bury the hatchet?” he asked.

She couldn’t help herself. “In which part of your body?”

Logan sighed. “I’m sorry. Okay? Let’s forget about the kids we used to be, and call a truce. I’m only going to be here until Saturday.”

And she was counting down the hours. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about both him and the group that would be there at the same time. Then, considering his words more carefully, her suspicions rose.

“So, you want to make nice all of a sudden?” Emily shook her head. “I’m not buying it, Logan.”

“Look. I have no idea why, but I’m trying to do you a favor here.” He didn’t sound quite so friendly anymore.

“
You
? Do
me
a favor? … Like when you welded my locker door shut? Or one of my all-time favorites—cut a good three inches off my hair?” Maybe he could forget about when they were kids because she hadn’t done any of those kinds of things to him. In fact, she had tried very industriously to avoid him.

Logan held his hand up in a stop gesture. “Fine. I just wanted you to know that Mason Wright thinks you and I have a thing going.”

“Who thinks we have a what?” There was no way she had heard that right.

“Mason—the guy at your camper this morning?” Logan smiled at her, or at least she thought he did. It had never happened before. “He’s bad news for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”
What
was he talking about?

“Yeah. Someone ‘good’ like you.” Now he was smirking. That was an expression she was much more familiar with. “So I told him you and I are together. To protect you from his advances. I’m counting on it …”

“Why, you egotistical moron, would I ever need you to protect me? I’ve managed to protect myself for sixteen years now—from
you
! In fact, it’s none of your business if Jason—”

“Mason.” Was he laughing at her?

“Whatever his name is! It’s none of your business if he’s interested in me. And it’s certainly none of your business whether or not it’s mutual.” She had never wanted to slap the smirk off of his face as much as she did at that moment, and there had been countless other times when she’d wanted to.

“He’s not the kind of guy you want to hook up with, Em. He’ll break your heart.” Logan shrugged. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Frustrated beyond words, Emily brushed past him and headed toward her campsite. Why wouldn’t that man leave her alone? He never had in school, and now, since he found out she was there, he’d harassed her not once, but
twice
already!

Logan watched her stomp away. He had done it again—made Emily Scott angry. Of course, he had been doing that, on purpose and inadvertently, sometimes just by breathing, for as long as they had known each other. The few times—the
very
few times he had tried to make amends, she shot him down faster than a lightning bolt. For some reason, that had always renewed his desire to rankle her more. Well, if she wanted to fool around with Wright, let her. It wasn’t his problem.