Tattered Innocence (36 page)

Ann Lee Miller earned a BA in creative
writing from Ashland (OH) University and writes full-time in
Phoenix, but left her heart in New Smyrna Beach, Florida, where she
grew up. She loves speaking to young adults and guest lectures on
writing at several Arizona colleges. When she isn’t writing or
muddling through some crisis—real or imagined—you’ll find her
hiking in the Superstition Mountains with her husband or meddling
in her kids’ lives.

AnnLeeMiller.com

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@AnnLeeMiller

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1st Place Long Contemporary, 2009 RWA Faith,
Hope and Love Contest

Tracy Krauss '12 Top 5 Reads

Stuck in sleepy New Smyrna Beach one last
summer, Raine socks away her camp pay checks, worries about her
druggy brother, and ignores trouble: Cal Koomer. She’s a plane
ticket away from teaching orphans in Africa, and not even Cal’s
surfer six-pack and the chinks she spies in his rebel armor will
derail her.

The artist in Cal begs to paint Raine’s
ivory skin, high cheek bones, and internal sparklers behind her
eyes, but falling for her would caterwaul him into his parents’
life. No thanks. The girl was self-righteous waiting to happen. Mom
served sanctimony like vegetables, three servings a day, and he had
a gut full.

Rec Director Drew taunts her with “Rainey”
and calls her an enabler. He is so infernally there like
a horsefly—till he buzzes back to his ex.

Raine's brother tweaks. Her dream of Africa
dies small deaths. Will she figure out what to fight for
and what to free before it's too late?

For anyone who's ever wrestled with their
dreams.

Chapter 1

Raine pushed the beads on her African
bracelet back and forth like the balls on an abacus. Her stomach
kneaded, gurgled. She could almost feel sweat dampen her upper
lip.

Drew’s forehead creased as he stared at her.
Fluorescent tubes hummed overhead in the night air. Shouts and
back-slapping ricocheted around the Canteen porch in the
sticky-sweet scent of orange blossoms. If she wasn’t fighting to
keep her dinner down, she’d tell him where they’d met.

His frown melted into a smile of recognition.
“Rainey. Hey. Welcome to Triple S Camp.”

She bristled at the nickname her brothers
used to irritate her. “It’s
Raine.
”

“I remember you as Rainey from the skit you
did in junior high youth group. You cried all over the place—a pun
on your name.”

“That was my total acting career… and ancient
history. Better off forgotten. Please.”

“Sure, Rainey, whatever you say.”

“Drew!”

“You remember my name.”

“You weren’t exactly low profile either.”
She, like every girl in the youth group, had spent way too much
time mooning at the high-school-Drew hunched over his guitar.

Jesse, the camp director, gave a shrill blast
on his whistle. “Welcome to New Smyrna Beach Surf and Sailing Camp
orientation.”

The noise ratcheted down. Thirty staffers in
aquamarine shirts settled onto the benches lining the porch.

Raine swallowed and unclenched her fingers
from the camp handbook. She refused to heave like she had at
college orientation four years ago. Her thumb ran over the ridges
in her palm where the spiral wire had dug into the flesh. Why had
she never been to camp like any normal kid?

A guy in surf shorts and flip-flops came up
the steps laughing with the girl beside him. Sun-white cords of
hair, crimped like he’d worn braids, brushed his thick shoulders.
He caught Raine staring. The interest crackling in his blue gaze
jolted through her.

She let her chin-length hair fall like a dark
curtain between them. A guy was one complication she didn’t need
this summer, not when Africa was nearly in her grasp.

Jesse, who’d hired her, dragged a podium
across the porch to the snack bar window. He cleared his throat.
Out of the corner of her eye, Raine saw the surfer and the girl
take seats halfway around the porch.

Jesse read the camp rules and Raine
highlighted them with a pink marker. His voice blended with the
drone of the crickets. As he launched into the sailing rules, her
stomach calmed.

Across the dirt road, yellow floodlights
bathed a wall of the dark dining hall. The camp office and cabins
flanked the building like dark-skinned children marching in a row
all the way to the hulking gym. She had Africa on the brain.

Drew’s elbow jarred her ribs. “Rainey,
introduce yourself,” he whispered.

She sprang to her feet. “I’m Raine—” She just
stopped herself from saying
Rainey.
“Zigler. I’ll be
teaching Bible.” She shot a glare at Drew and sat down with a
thump. Was that a snicker coming from somewhere near the snack
bar?

Drew’s knee creaked as he rose. “Drew Martin,
Rec Director.”

As the adrenalin ebbed, her attention strayed
back to the moonlit village of forest-green structures with
tarpaper roofs bleached gray by the Florida sun. This would be her
home for the next three months.
Please, God, I need some
friends.

The surfer stood. “I’m Cal Koomer, teaching
art for the third summer in a row. Someday I’m going to get a
life.”

Laughter rippled through the counselors. With
a grin Cal slouched onto the bench. His eyes traveled over Raine
like she was a Wooster custom surfboard he was thinking about
buying.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she
looked away.

“Aly Logan.” Cal’s friend wore slacks and a
button-down blouse. “I’m the college intern in the camp
office.”

Wait, wasn’t Aly her roommate’s name?

After Jesse instructed them on navigating the
septic system and handed out the night watch rotation, chatter
swelled around Raine.

Drew let out a low whistle. “
You’re
the hotshot Bible teacher fresh out of college?”

“I’ve been teaching Sunday school for years.
It’s not a big deal.”

“I thought the Bible
was
a big
deal.”

“Of course I think the Bible is important or
I wouldn’t focus my life on it.” Shyness clipped her words. She’d
pay money about now to relax and make normal conversation.

Yellow flecks danced in his eyes. “Just
checking.”

His teasing buzzed annoyance through her.
“After camp, I’ll be teaching Bible in an orphanage a couple hours
outside Entebbe, Uganda.”

Drew’s golden brows stretched into McDonald’s
arches.

Well now, that was better.

The sun-browned kid thwacked Drew’s arm and
pushed his Dakine surf cap up on his forehead. “Boss-man,
dude—”

Drew turned to talk to his assistant.

Raine twisted the colored beads in her
rawhide bracelet. She felt ten again, sitting alone on the edge of
Aqua Park Pool while everyone else swam with friends. Her palms
sweated. Insects circled between the lights and the rafters. She
had to get away from here.

A clear shot to the steps off the porch
opened up and she darted for them. Someone stepped in her way and
she barreled into him.

A thick hand clamped onto her arm. “Whoa,
girl!” Cal.

“I’m sorry. What a klutz—”

“Are you okay? Break anything? Need a blood
transfusion? Mouth to mouth?”

A nervous laugh tumbled out of her lips. “I’m
fine. Fine. Really. You can let go now.”

“I think you look a little rocky.” He grinned
at her before he dropped his hand.

Her skin tingled where his grip had been. The
citrus scent of Cal’s still-damp hair filled her nostrils. She took
a small step back, her leg bumped a bench.

Aly shot a glance at Cal. “There he is.” She
spun away, her waist-length ponytail arcing behind her.

Cal swatted Aly’s shoulder blade. “Stay out
of trouble.”

Aly waved him off and charged toward a guy
who could have modeled for Ocean Pacific.

Cal shook his head. “Aly can spot a user at a
hundred yards.”

“A user?” Did he mean heroin, crack, crystal
meth, or something else altogether?

“Never mind. Let me guess, you were
homeschooled.” His tone said she didn’t have a clue about how the
rest of the world lived.

She had way more than a clue, but she let it
slide. “How did you know?”

“Jesse’s my brother. Awesome source of info
on the new hires.”

She peered across the porch at the camp
director. Cal and Jesse sported similar Roman noses.

People filtered off the porch. A group stood
under the gazebo debating whether affection for
Twilight
would impair one’s spiritual life. Several yards away, Aly pulled
the clip from her hair and shook it free. Ocean Pacific’s eyes
locked on the strands.

Raine needed to say something, anything. Or
escape. She glanced over her shoulder at Drew, but he still talked
with his assistant. She turned toward the steps. “See you
around.”

“I’ll walk you to your cabin.”

She drew in a shaky breath. What was his
agenda? She didn’t want to deal with his disdain when she was a
breath from total freak-out.

Cal fell into step with her on the dirt road
leading past the cabins. “So, Raine Zigler, where does the
homeschooling path lead?”

“Where do you think I’m going?”

“Testy, are we?”

She softened her voice. “Where am I
going?”

“Homeschool, college, camp Bible teacher—the
natural next step is Christian school teacher. Marriage to a guy
with a similar pedigree, babies, homeschooling. The circle of life
is complete.”

“Actually, I’m going to Africa.”

He stopped. Fine white lines spoked the
corners of his eyes as he stared at her.

“I’ve wanted to be a missionary to Africa my
whole life.”

Cal’s jaw went rigid under a day’s shadow of
beard. “Hardcore Christian.”

Her heart knocked a staccato rhythm in her
chest, but she couldn’t look away. “Meaning?”

“Untried.”

“I live in the same world you do. I’m
challenged every day.”

Cal’s laugh rang hollow. “Right.”

“Fine. Think what you want.” She started to
turn, but his gaze seared through her. Maybe he
could
see.
She certainly felt untried at the moment.

“Come out to the beach with me and Aly some
night after campfire.”

She broke away from his gaze and headed
toward her cabin. She glanced back at him. “Aly, your girlfriend?”
The words flew out of her mouth before she could rein them in.

“A sibling I inherited through marriage.
Jesse is married to her sister.”

Adrenaline mainlined through her body. For
sure he thought she was into him. “What’s
your
road?”

“I was king of the monkey bars in second
grade. I’d balance one foot on each of the highest bars—until the
teacher made me get down. That was pretty much the high point of my
life. Been trying to get back there ever since.”

She stopped in front of her cabin.
“Figuratively?”

“Well, yeah. I want to be Harry Morgan.”

“Who?”

“Owner of Pink Taco Restaurants. Under
thirty. Dates starlets. I want to have my picture in
People.
Top of the monkey bars.”

She paused on the first step and looked at
him.
Am I supposed to know this guy?

“Never mind.

Raine moved up the steps feeling as ignorant
as Cal thought she was.

“Later.”

“Wait.”

Yellow porch light warmed his cheeks but left
his eyes in shadow.

“I-I’d like to hear about Triple S from
someone who knows the camp.”

Cal shrugged. “That would be me. Been coming
here most of my life.”

“Is it easy to get to know people?”

“Homeschooling leave you short on
friends?”

She gave a dry laugh. “I spent my childhood
with my nose pressed against the living room window watching the
other kids catch the school bus.” She sat on the top step, eye
level with Cal. “Commuting three hours a day to college wasn’t a
whole lot better.”

“You could do worse for a place to dive into
life. I’ve ditched most of the rules and religion I grew up with.
But I still love this place. The people.”

“How did you snag a job at a Christian camp
feeling the way you do about faith?”

“Nepotism is alive and well at the Triple S.
Jesse, no doubt, thinks camp will boomerang me back to God.”

“Would you talk a camper out of his
faith?”

“Jesse should’ve had you interview me.”

“Well?”

“What’s the point of wrecking a kid’s faith?
Maybe I was happier when I swallowed everything I was taught. I
don’t know.” He laughed. “You, on the other hand, have the primo
resume. Wannabe missionary. And I bet Jesse got you for cheap fresh
out of college. Mom would do cartwheels around the yard if I ever
brought home a girl like you.”