Over Her Head (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 489) by Gail Gaymer Martin

Author:Gail Gaymer Martin [Martin, Gail Gaymer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-06-01T05:00:00+00:00

Eight

Lana glanced out the rear window of Mark’s car and saw the large bus bounding behind them. They’d left the main highway, and now the washboard road rattled Mark’s newer model car like a pair of maracas. For once her small stature seemed a blessing since she’d noticed Mark’s head occasionally smack the roof of the car when he hit the bigger potholes.

Lana felt her fast-food lunch flipping around in her stomach. “You’d think they’d grate this cow path, wouldn’t you?” she asked.

“They probably don’t want campers to get too hopeful,” Mark said, rubbing the top of his head from the previous bump.

“Too hopeful about what?” Though she asked the question, fear settled into her well-shaken stomach.

“Not to expect too much luxury,” he answered.

“But what about necessity? A car’s axle is not what I’d call a luxury.”

“Good point,” he said as he hit another jarring hole. “Camps have low budgets, I suppose. Church camps are funded by congregations’ generosity.”

Lana shifted in her seat. “Let’s pray that the First Church of Holly will become a generous donor.”

He grinned and gripped the vibrating steering wheel.

Looking behind her, Lana spied the sway and bounce of the bus and felt grateful she’d been able to ride with Mark. Two parents had volunteered for bus duty, and Mark had said one car was needed for an emergency. Emergencies were now on Lana’s thankful list.

“There it is,” Mark said, pointing through the windshield off to the right.

Lana strained to see a group of smaller log cabins nestled in a wide semicircle beside a larger building. “That must be the office,” she said.

“Office, cafeteria, game room, and meeting rooms, I imagine. I’ve been to a few camps in my day. They’re all about the same.”

But as they drew closer, Lana cringed. From a distance, the rustic cabins had looked truly rustic, which made her nervous. When they pulled into the camp grounds and stopped, “from a distance” had become the best view of her two-week accommodations.

She stepped from the car and watched the teens spill from the bus, carrying sleeping bags and duffel bags. The driver opened the rear and unloaded suitcases, boxes, and overnight bags.

While they gathered their belongings, Mark spoke to the camp director, and soon everyone had gathered to receive their cabin assignments. As the director called names and assigned a cabin, the campers moved to the side.

Lana waited for hers while one of the parents beckoned a group to follow her to a cabin called Running Deer. Another counselor herded a group toward Sleeping Bear. With her obvious inexperience, she feared her bunkhouse might be called Dying Hawk or Wounded Possum, but she smiled when she heard her cabin assignment: Little Flower. Now that name she liked. In moments, Mark led his crew across the grass toward Soaring Eagle, and Lana eyed the log cabin in the opposite direction and assumed it was hers.

When she stepped inside, a dank, mildew aroma greeted her, and Lana remembered Flower was the skunk’s name in the children’s tale Bambi.

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