Resisting Mr. Fancy Pants Read Online Terri E. Laine

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
<<<<8161718192028>35
Advertisement


“Then what?” I asked, in case his black bag held some tricks I wasn’t aware of.

“Then you jump up and down and make yourself as big as possible, so you’ll be seen.”

He didn’t mention yelling, but then again, a boat out far wouldn’t hear me.

I didn’t like the idea of being left alone, but he was right. One of us needed to stay on the beach and be a lookout. So I kept my fears of being alone to myself as he walked deeper into the island. As he went, he passed many trees that had been sheared off, leaving a wide swath of spikes of tree trunks. Whatever happened to us had happened here too. Off in the distance, I had a little reminder of home as a small mountain made up the center of the island.

The land wasn’t flat, and when he dipped out of sight, an idea struck me. I went and gathered thick fallen tree limbs. Then I got to work on using them to spell out the word “HELP” on the beach.

TEN

Agan arrived with an armful of wood.

“Anything?” I asked.

He shook his head. “The land is very uneven and rocky in places. I didn’t go too far, as I came across some downed limbs that aren’t damp from the storm.”

I didn’t give in to the grimness of our situation. Agan seemed sure his father would find us. I held on to that hope, as it was my lifeline to getting back to my daughter. Then, embarrassingly, my stomach let out a growl that broke the stillness that surrounded us.

“You’re hungry,” he said, stating the obvious.

“It’s fine. I can wait.”

He set down the wood in a pile near the black bag and raft, farther up from where I sat. He opened the bag and pulled out a couple of things. He returned to me, sitting down.

“Here.” He handed me a bar.

“You said we should be careful about how we use things.” I checked the bag myself and found less than a dozen bars. I hadn’t counted them.

“Yes. But we can ease into it. You’re hungry. Eat.” He also handed me a bottle of water. There had been fewer of those.

I was hungry and didn’t argue further. I trusted he knew what he was doing. I tore open the bar without looking at the flavor. I was pretty easygoing about food. There never seemed to be enough of that growing up and I’d learned to eat whatever was around, like it or not.

It was chewy, which I was grateful for. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I bit down. If it had been dry, I didn’t think I would have been able to swallow it. I opened the bottle and drank deeply. When I felt half-human, I said to him, “You’re not going to eat anything.”

He shook his head. “I’m not hungry yet. I should get a fire going. Smoke is a good natural beacon. I should have started one a while back.”

What he didn’t say was that he’d been worried about me and hadn’t wanted to leave me alone for a long period of time. Feeling guilty, I lost most of my appetite but forced myself to finish. I wouldn’t be his burden. Not wanting to pollute, I walked over with my empty wrapper and empty bottle. I put both in the bag. They could be useful somehow before we were rescued.

“How can I help?” I offered.

“Can you set up the tent?”

“Sure,” I said, though I’d never set one up in my life.

He handed me a long, slender bag with two handles. Then he arranged the wood into a tepee structure. He got out what I thought was a knife, and it was. However, he used the knife against something that came off the top of the knife. He struck the end of the knife against the skinny metal from the top. That created a spark. The paper beneath that I hadn’t noticed now flared to life. He added the paper to the wood structure and it lit. “I’m going to gather more wood.”

I nodded confidently and set the tent bag on the ground. How hard could this be? I unzipped it and pulled out what looked like a giant umbrella. I set the base on the bottom and tried numerous ways to open it up. I’d never been camping before. The closest was a fort I’d created with a sheet over our table in the trailer I’d grown up in. Mom wasn’t into camping. And Avery’s dad, who was the closest person to a dad I’d ever had, was a fishing guy, and those were day trips.

When Agan returned, I was still at it.

“Need some help?” he asked while laughing.

“Okay. Let me see you do it,” I said, sure he’d be foiled by the tent as much as I had been.


Advertisement

<<<<8161718192028>35

Advertisement