“You don’t want me to paddle first, Mr. Rick?” A worried frown pinched Carlos’s face.
“No, no. You’re fine. I was just shooing away a pest. Okay, men.” Rick pointed to a large tree stump protruding from the water in the middle of the shallow cove. “We’re going to paddle out and around that stump and back to shore, switching front men after each trip. Whoever is in front needs to listen to your instructor. He’ll tell you which side of the canoe to paddle on, and he’ll be guiding, but turning can be tricky, so listen carefully. Remember, do not stand up in the canoe, and men sitting in the middle stay low.”
He looked at Charlie and nodded.
Charlie pushed the canoe off the bank, calling directions. “Stroke to the right, Ryan. Right. Right. Now left. Left again. You’re doing great.”
The first canoe cut smoothly through the water, and the boys in Neil’s canoe all turned eager eyes toward Rick, anxious for their chance.
He waited until Charlie’s group was almost to the stump and then gave Neil the signal.
Neil eased the canoe off the sandy bottom, and his group was under way...for about three yards. Until someone leaned over too far or moved the wrong way, and then they were sitting on the sandy bottom in waist-deep water.
Girls giggled in the background.
The boys all pointed to someone else to lay the blame on. “It doesn’t make any difference,” Neil told them. “We’re a team.” He pulled the canoe back to shore, and they reloaded. Their second attempt went off without a hitch.
“My dad told me he’s gonna get us a canoe,” Howie said, twisting around toward Rick from his position in the middle of the boat.
I’ll bet your dad makes lots of promises, Rick thought, but he said, “That’ll be fun. And when he does, you’ll know what to do. Now, turn around and stay still. Okay, let’s do it.”
Rick pushed them off, and the boat glided softly onto the water.
Bass boats passing the cove out in Kentucky Lake caused waves that rocked the canoe gently, but his group instinctively shifted their weight in unison and kept the canoe level. The first and second groups made it around the stump without too much zigzagging.
Charlie and Neil called the orders. The smiles of conquest on the boys’ faces as they rounded the stump and headed back toward the shore were priceless.
Carlos was a bit unsure of left and right and had a little trouble keeping a steady rhythm. Rick watched closely, trying to match it so there wouldn’t be so much unnecessary drag, but they ended up too far to the right.
“Right, Carlos, right, right, right,” Rick called as he shifted his own paddle in the water. The canoe started its arc around the stump.
A flash of red diverted Rick’s attention. Summer Delaney stood on the wooden platform that held the slide at the deep end of the beach area. Even the modest cut of the swimsuit couldn’t hide the perfect proportions of her petite body. A long, golden braid glistened in the sunlight, looking like a gold arrow pointing directly to the perky, rounded rear below it.
As if his gaze drew her around, she turned toward him, lifting a hand to her brow to shade against the sun. His eyes drifted up her shapely legs, past her flat stomach and tiny waistline, to the small but full breasts molded and sculpted by the spandex in the garment.
“Mr. Rick?”
The panic in Carlos’s tone snapped Rick’s attention back to the canoe. Damn! They were headed directly for the stump. “Left, Carlos, left.” Carlos paddled fast to the right.
Quickly, Rick shifted his paddle flat to the water in an attempt to slow them down. The technique worked, but not fast enough. The canoe slammed broadside into the stump. A grinding sound against the floor followed by a complete stop told him they were lodged on a submerged limb.
“Okay, men. Sorry. This is my fault. I wasn’t paying close enough attention.” Rick gave his own ass a mental kick. “Carlos, you paddle. Howie, Reggie and Mitchell—you push against the trunk. Gently.”
Using his paddle as a lever beneath the canoe, Rick made contact with the limb and pushed down. Slowly, they started inching away. He could feel the eyes of the entire camp on him...Summer Delaney’s more keenly than the others.
They were almost free, when Howie shot up out of his seat and pushed hard against the tree trunk. At the same time,