12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
“I’m covered with…ceiling.”
The fire was burning well and putting out heat by the time the kids arrived. They mingled on the grass around the pit, standing in small groups or sitting in chairs, on benches, or on blankets. Wes gave them a few minutes to settle in, then stood in front of the fire.
“Welcome to the first night of Senior Camp. As you all know, seniors from Bridgeport High have been coming to Blueberry Lake every September for over twenty years. The coach and I both attended.” He glanced at Lester. “Not to age anyone, but I believe Coach attended the very first camp.”
The kids laughed, and Lester called out. “And proud of it!”
“Most of you have siblings who have attended. My five brothers all attended, but I was the first, so I filled them in.”
One of the boys from the football team raised his hand. “I heard one of your brothers got kicked out of camp.”
Wes laughed. “I’m afraid so.”
“What did he do?”
“That’s a story for another time and probably another audience. I don’t want to plant any ideas in your head. So let’s move on and play some music. What do you say?” The kids cheered and whistled as he picked up his guitar and returned to the fire. “Who’s going to join me up here?”
A girl with a mandolin and two boys with guitars joined Wes.
They played several songs they all knew, then started taking requests.
For any given song, at least one of them knew the melody, and the others picked up what they could and joined in.
Wes knew many of the songs from his years at camp.
It seemed that when a group of kids gathered around a campfire, the song requests were pretty standard.
It was always a mix of pop ballads and classic rock songs.
When they finally took a break, Wes sat down next to Cassandra and took a drink from the water bottle she handed him.
“Very impressive, Mr. B. Definitely not Kumbaya.”
“That was fun.”
“I can see why these kids love you. My principal wasn’t nearly this cool. Or cool at all.”
“That’s because you were in the big city.”
“I don’t think that’s why.”
“I’m just that cool?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. Well, they say music soothes the savage beast. In this case though, it’s raging hormones, uncontrollable emotions, and immaturity.”
“I realize now, perhaps I’ve been approaching my teen patients all wrong. I should’ve just sung to them.”
“It could’ve helped.” Wes turned to her. “Are you ready to tell me why you took a break from your practice?”
She looked around at the kids. “Not here.”
“But somewhere?”
“Maybe when we get back to the real world. Right now, I just want to enjoy Camp Blueberry.”
Bailey came up to them. “That was so cool.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Now I really want to learn to play the guitar. Or the mandolin. That was awesome, too.”
Cassandra smiled. “Anything you want, honey. I’m sure Mr. B. can point you toward a good teacher.”
“So you’ll buy me a guitar and a mandolin?”
“Um…let’s go with one or the other to start.”
Bailey thought for a moment. “Guitar.”
“I’ll look into it when I get back.”
Bailey hugged her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She ran off, and Cassandra turned to Wes. “I don’t know anything about guitars.”
“I can help you with that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Your daughter is a musical prodigy. You need to nurture that.”
Cassandra sighed. “I agree.”
“But…”
“Nick…” She stopped and smiled. “I’ll make sure she gets a guitar.”
“He thinks anything else will detract from her piano playing?”
“Basically, yes.”
“Well, screw that. Not that it’s any of my business.”
Cassandra watched the fire for a moment. “I can totally see why Bailey jumped on the idea of you being her father.”
“Because I’m so cool?”
“That, and…we’ll just go with that.”
“Brilliant?” He held up a finger. “Handsome?”
She nudged him. “Egotistical?”
“No. That’s your ex-husband.”
After another round of music and some roasted marshmallows, the weather cooled quickly. When the wind picked up and blowing embers from the fire threatened to become a hazard, Wes called the evening to a close.
“I need you all to go to your cabins before the rain hits. Tomorrow morning we’ll meet in the mess hall and entertain ourselves inside for a while.”
The kids wandered off toward the cabins, and Lester picked up a shovel. “I’ll get this fire put out.”
“I’ll help.” Wes turned to Cassandra. “You can go back to the cabin and go to bed or whatever.”
“You don’t need help?”
“No, but thank you.”
“Okay. Goodnight then.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Once the fire was out and the chairs were stacked and put away in the boathouse, Wes said goodnight to Lester and headed for the cabin. He was tired, but he smelled of wood smoke, so he went to the bathroom to take a shower.
Freshly showered and wearing only a towel, he was brushing his teeth when Cassandra’s door opened. She gasped and closed the door.
“I’m so sorry.”
Wes spit out toothpaste, rinsed off his brush, and laid it on the counter, then opened Cassandra’s door. “Didn’t we establish that I was going to shower at night?”
She glanced over her shoulder, then kept her back to him. “We also established that you would lock the damn door when you did.”
“I thought you were asleep. And if you weren’t, you should’ve heard the water running.”
She held up her hands. “It’s pouring outside, making it very hard to determine where the falling water is coming from.” She glanced at him again. “Can you…get dressed, please?”
“You’ve seen me in a towel before, and a lot less.”
“That was a long time ago. You were…we were…” She blushed. “Please get dressed.”
He stood for a moment, resisting the urge to take advantage of the situation. Then silently reprimanded himself for going there. He backed into the bathroom. “How about a new rule? Knock before you come barging in.”
“I didn’t barge.”
He closed her door, then went to his room and dried off. As he got dressed, he considered whether to talk to her some more. “Just leave it alone.”
Wes got into bed, punched the pillow a few times, then pulled the blanket up. A few minutes later, he kicked the blanket off. When that made him too cold, he pulled the blanket to his waist and stuck a foot out.
The image of Wes’ bare chest floated through Cassandra’s mind, and she rolled onto her side.
“Stop it.” What is wrong with you? The man wants nothing to do with you.
She returned to her back and stared at the ceiling.
It was too dark to see, except when a bolt of lightning lit up the room, but she knew there was a crack in the drywall that zigzagged across it right over the bed.
There were a few more on the walls, and the floor creaked when she walked across it.
The cabin had definitely seen better days.
Wes had always been a runner and was in good shape in college, but he was leaner then. Now. “Oh my gosh, stop.” She sat up and wrestled with her blankets again. “So much for bathroom rules. He can’t follow one simple rule? Lock the damn door.” She blew out a breath. “Barging? I did not—”
It sounded like twigs breaking. A lot of twigs.
Big twigs. Then the sky literally fell on her.
Other than the twigs, it was completely silent as parts of the ceiling dropped into the mattress along with water, leaves, and debris from the roof.
So, the sound that brought Wes barging through the bathroom door must’ve come from her.
The first thing through her mind was, now that’s barging.
He stopped mid-step. “Shit.”
When she looked at him, she realized her bed had collapsed under the weight of broken 2x4s, shingles, plaster, and insulation. Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky above her as rain fell through the three-foot hole.
She glared at him, and he moved toward her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I don’t know. I’m covered with…ceiling.”
He went to the bed, removed a soggy piece of insulation from her legs, and took her arm. “Let me get you out of there.” He helped her off the collapsed bed and moved her several feet away from the wet mess. “What happened?”
She looked at him. “The roof caved in.”
“I see that. How are you not hurt?” He looked her over, and she stepped away from him.
“I’m fine.” She brushed at some leaves clinging to her wet shirt.
He smiled, and she shoved him. “Sorry. It’s just so weird.”
She shoved him again. “I could’ve been killed.”
“Right. But you weren’t.” He pulled a couple of leaves out of her hair.
She looked at her wet pajamas and T-shirt, suddenly realizing she was sharing a lot more than she wanted to with him. She folded her arms across her chest.
Wes moved closer to the mess and looked up at the hole. “Damn.”
She shivered. “How…”
He moved in front of her again, putting his hands on her arms. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need to get your things and move them into my room. Everything in here is going to get soaked.”
His voice was hollow and sounded far away. “Move my things?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my gosh, I need to move my things.” She rubbed her head, which was ringing, then stepped back from him and went to the closet to get her suitcases. She set them on the dresser and began calmly taking her things out of the drawers.
“Um…wow. Can we speed this up?”
“What?”
He opened another drawer, grabbed the contents, and stared at them when he realized they were her underwear. “Okay. I didn’t see that coming.” He looked at her. “Are you dating someone?”
“No.” She grabbed the black lace underwear from him and dropped it in the suitcase. “Mind your own business.”
“I thought women only wore stuff like that to make a guy crazy.”
She finished emptying the drawers. “That shows how little you know about women.”
“I totally agree. I’m a thirty-seven-year-old bachelor. Do you want to enlighten me?”
“No.” He glanced at the front of her T-shirt, and she pulled the wet fabric away from her skin. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”
“Um…yes, ma’am.” He went to the closet, took the half-dozen shirts hanging in it, and laid them on top of the clothes in one of the suitcases. “Anything else?”
Cassandra looked around the room. “My phone.” They both looked at the broken table next to the bed. “Oh my gosh, my phone!” She started to move toward the table, and Wes took her arm.
“I’m afraid it’s a goner.”
“We don’t know for sure.”
He sighed. “Fine. Let me.”
“I’m already wet.” She pulled her arm away, went to the table, and kicked the debris aside with her foot.
She bent over, then held up her phone. Water dripped from the crack in the screen.
“My phone. Rice to dry it out?” He cocked his head, and she dropped the phone on the floor. “I guess that’s it, then.”
They left the room, closing the door behind them, and Wes put her suitcases on the dresser in his room. “Good thing you unpacked.” He turned to her. “Hot shower?”
“I think I’ve had enough water for the night.
” She took dry pajamas, underwear, and a T-shirt from her suitcase, then went to the bathroom and turned on the light.
“Oh my gosh.” She looked like she’d been swimming in a sewer.
“Dammit.” She turned on the water and washed her face and hands, then put her head under the running water to rinse the debris from her hair.
She changed into dry clothes, then left the bathroom. Wes was sitting on the end of the bed next to two folded blankets from the closet and a pillow from his bed. “You have two choices, Cassandra.”
“What would those be?”
“You can share the bed with me, or you can make a bed on the floor.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Why isn’t one of those choices you sleeping on the floor?”
“It’s my room. I think letting you sleep with me is quite generous considering that.”
“Wow. Letting me sleep with you?” She ignored the flip in her stomach.
“In the same bed.” He stood. “It’s up to you. I’m sure this wooden floor is plenty comfortable.”
“Weston Buchanan, I don’t like you very much right now.”
“I just saved your ass.”
“How do you figure? I was more than capable of getting out of the bed by myself.”
Wes pulled back the blanket on his bed, then lay down on his side. “While you play modern, ‘I don’t need no man to help me,’ woman, I’m going to get some sleep.”
She picked up the other pillow and threw it at him. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
He hugged the pillow to his chest. “Goodnight, Cassandra.”
She climbed onto the bed and tried to wrestle the pillow from him. He held on tight, then locked eyes with her. This time her stomach did a complete somersault, and she stopped, let go of the pillow, and climbed off the bed. “Keep the damn thing.”
She spent a few minutes making a bed on the floor, with one blanket beneath her and another to cover herself. Then she lay down and rested her head on her bent elbow. “This is perfectly comfortable.”
“Cassandra?” When she didn’t respond, he tossed the pillow at her. “You’re a damn stubborn woman.” He turned off the light, and she sighed. I’m the stubborn one?