“I’m serious, Amy,” he barked. “I plan to stay between two kayaks, and I’ll need you to have one on either side too.”
“That way they’re all covered. Yeah, I got it.”
“Great.” He turned toward the boats. “Try not to tip over.” He yelled over his shoulder, glanced up at the sky for the third time in the last ten minutes, and quickly slid his boat into the water.
I was dumbfounded at his chiding. Was I that much of a nuisance to him? Was he still mad that I’d run him out of the pool grounds? I rolled my eyes, bracing myself for nearly two more hours of this.
Midway through crossing the river, I kept my eye on the two girls on my right, since they were all the way on the end of the row of boats and were more likely to drift off, out of my reach.
“Kathy, if you even your strides, you’ll float straighter.”
“But it’s heavier on this side.”
“See if it helps if you center your weight and not lean on one side,” I advised.
She did. And tried again.
“How’s that?” I asked, noticing a difference.
“It’s working. Thanks, Amy.” She smiled.
I smiled back. Then I snuck a few glances in Rick’s direction. His arms were visibly stronger looking than I remembered. He was wearing a light-gray T-shirt, which was showing his tanned arms flexing each time he extended the paddles and pulled back. I shook my head lightly, miffed at myself for losing focus for those few seconds. I noticed him slow his rowing and eye the farmland for a desirable and safe spot to park.
“Okay guys, paddle toward that open space behind the shed. The water is calmer there, and there aren’t any rocks,” he instructed.
Rick got off the boat first and placed his paddle safely on the side of the kayak, pulling the latch over it. He reached to guide out his side of our troop. I followed his steps in settling my boat and paddle before helping the duo to my left. While the campers were retrieving their art pads from their backpacks, I’d walked over to the farm owner, Mr. Kinsley, who was expecting camp visitors.
He pointed me to the field between the shed where we’d parked and the farmhouse. The field was a wide, open space with freshly mowed green grass. The farm had an abundant number of apple trees that spread around the farmhouse and its fencing. The three-rail white vinyl fence looked freshly reinforced and painted. On one side were three horses, two larger ones and one visibly younger. The other side had five goats.
“This might be the only time this summer that you get to be out here, so take your time choosing your focus point.”
“Amy, if I wanted to draw a horse, can I sit closer to the gate?” Kayla, an eight-year-old girl with golden-blond hair, looked up at me with hopeful eyes.
“Sure, Kayla, just don’t get too close.”
I looked around at my campers, who’d all found spots on the green field. I glanced over at Rick, sitting on a rock closer to the river. He was watching some of the kids engaged in their art and then looked back at the river. His solemn state struck me as unusual for him.
“You know I’m not happy about this anymore than you are,” I offered when I’d walked over to him.
“What are you talking about?” He looked up at me from where he sat.
“I’m talking about being stuck with me. I get that’s what you’re upset about.”
He looked up at me. “You think I’m upset about you? You’re a little nuts, I’ll admit, but I have better things to worry about than how I feel about you.”
“You sure have a way with people.”
“Ha—you’re one to talk,” he muttered.
I sighed restlessly, kicking myself for even trying.
“I’m just not thrilled about this carelessly planned outing. All for a dumb show,” he finally admitted.
“I didn’t plan this,” I said defensively, sitting beside him.
“I know—this has nothing to do with you,” he paused. “I never plan my outings with the campers on a last-minute workaround event schedule,” he started, trying to keep his voice down. “I’m always very thorough about the safety of the kids, including the location, the prepping, and the weather.”
I shrugged. “It’s not supposed to rain until later this afternoon.”
