Free Counting On It (Hearts for Ransom Book 1) by Georgia Evans

typing on a tablet, in the nick of time.
    Brody was eyeing the giant who was supposed to be sharing his tent. It was all Logan could do to keep from laughing. Poor Brody was probably praying that—Luke, wasn’t it?—didn’t roll over in his sleep and squash him like a bug.
    “What about sleeping bags?” Logan asked. He was going to draw the line at trying to share his sleeping bag. He’d take the bus Haynes had left them, and drive to Ransom and buy some for the boys before he’d do that, reporter or not.
    “Of course, each one of us has our own sleeping bag.” Pastor Rhinehart was starting to get on Emily’s nerves. Smooth voice or not, he didn’t seem to be very grateful to the team. Of course, the men weren’t doing this of their own volition. Maybe the pastor knew that and didn’t think they deserved his respect. Nope. She didn’t care. The fact was, they were helping out, and the man should be thankful he hadn’t needed to turn any of the boys away.
    “Why don’t the boys get their stuff and you guys show them your tents?” she suggested, a smile plastered on her face.
    “Come on, Trevor,” invited Logan. “I’ll help you carry your things.”
    “I don’t have much,” Trevor self-consciously admitted. “Just a few clothes and a sleeping bag the church got for me.”
    It was as Logan had thought. This boy was used to doing without. “Well, I’ll still help you.” He grinned at Trevor, and then followed him to the bus.
    After some awkward words being exchanged and people getting on and off the bus, they were soon headed toward the campsites.
    “Where should we pitch our tents?” Paul Findley asked Emily.
    “You three can use sites seventy-nine, eighty, and eighty-one—one tent per site.” Surely she wouldn’t have to help these guys set up their tents too. Where was Aaron, anyway? He could have at least been there to greet them.
    She turned to the photographer and reporter. “Are you camping, or commuting?”
    “I’m camping,” the pretty, blonde woman with the camera told her, “but Samuel is commuting.” She held out her free hand. “I’m Kristine Carlson.”
    “Emily Scott,” she said as they shook. “Would you like site eighty-four? It’s empty. You’ll be close enough to the group to see what’s going on, but far enough for a little privacy.”
    Kristine smiled. “That’ll be perfect.” She turned to the reporter. “Samuel, will you help me set up my tent real quick?”
    After he agreed and they had headed back to their vehicle to retrieve it, Mason’s “little brother” Spencer touched her arm.
    “Is Mason’s and my campsite close to yours, babe?” the buff, blonde boy asked her. Babe? A teenager was calling her babe?
    “She stays in the motorhome over there,” Mason answered curtly, indicating the campground host site. “And Spencer, you need to apologize to Miss Scott for talking to her like that.”
    “Like what?” he asked, apparently clueless.
    “It’s not respectful for you to call her anything other than Miss Scott. Now please apologize.”
    Logan nearly snorted. “Love ‘em and Leave ‘em” Wright was telling the young man how to respect women? Heck, those two had probably been paired up just fine. More than likely, within a few days they’d be exchanging pointers.
    “Mr. Taylor, if you want, I can sleep outside. It won’t bother me.” Trevor’s voice was so low that Logan could barely hear him.
    Logan wished more than anything that he had his camper. He’d give this boy, who was used to doing without, a couple of weeks to remember. “Call me Logan.” He tried to catch Trevor’s eyes, but his gaze remained fixed on the ground in front of him. “We’ll be fine in the tent. It’s plenty big enough for the both of us.” His voice was gruff.
    Emily, having overheard their exchange, was touched. She was certain that not every one of Logan’s teammates would respond as he had. In fact, she’d put money down that a couple of them