curtain swaying just a little bit? I creep over to the window, press my head to the wall, and look behind the curtain. Sure enough, a small dark shadow is pressed into the corner. Whyyyy?
One hand reaches automatically for the notepad in my back pocket even as the rest of me knows I’m not going to fill out a requisition form. I’m not ready for another battle with Shane, and I’m ninety percent certain he would have killed the first bat if I hadn’t gotten in the way. Not only do I not have time to protect this new bat—or maybe the same bat all over again—I’m still shaking off the vestiges of my dream hang over and don’t want him to sense my weakness.
Okay, no problem. I saw him get rid of the bat yesterday—I’ll do it myself. I’ll just…Well, first I’ll take all of my supplies back to the supply closet, and then I’ll come back to deal with this. That makes the most sense. I still have twenty minutes before lunch, plenty of time to handle the bat, inspect twelve cabins, and mop the sweat off my forehead.
I stack my cleaning basket on top of the wet linens and groan as I straighten. It’s already hot as hell out here, I’m a mess, and my overheated skins seems to be reactivating invisible traces of vanilla. I changed my shirt after breakfast, but I still smell like the victim of a bath shop explosion. I stagger into the supply closet and drop off my basket. Sweat is actually dripping off my brow onto the floor, and I swipe the back of my arm across my face. There are sweat stains beneath my armpits. I’m disgusting. I’m desperate for another dip in the pool, but there’s no time. Instead I settle for splashing water on my face, wiping away smeared mascara, and changing into my third shirt of the day.
I toss my dirty shirt into an empty washing machine and grab a rag to snatch up the bat. Except now that I feel the rag in my hand it seems pretty…flimsy. Surely there’s a better way—Aha! A cleaning bucket. I’ll just…No, this is definitely not going to work well in a corner. And then I spot it: a net! I have no idea what it’s used for, but it’s covered in cobwebs so I can’t imagine it’s an essential ranch tool. Well, that’s perfect. I’ve just wrapped my fingers around the handle when I hear—
“Collecting butterflies?”
Shane.
I turn to see him propped up in the doorway, the sun squeaking in past his broad form. Why is he so big?
“Just…No. Just looking.”
“Huh.” He nods but doesn’t move. I let go of the net as though it’s of no interest to me. My eyes dart to the clock. 11:46. I have to be back here by noon for lunch.
“Did you need something?” I ask.
He holds up a square of paper. “Broken mirror in cabin five. Fixed now.”
“That’s great.”
He nods again.
“Did you need anything else?”
I can tell he’s trying not to smile. He knows he’s holding me up, and he knows I want the net. I stare him down.
“No, Kate,” he says finally. “That’s everything.”
He leaves, and I count to ten before sticking my head out the door and looking around. He’s out of sight, probably gone back to sit in the barn and act important. But I don’t have time to dwell. I dart inside, snatch up the net, and sprint back to cabin eleven.
The bat’s still in its resting place. I manage to move the curtain without disturbing it, then stare at the net. I’m not sure how this will work, exactly, because there’s no way to actually seal it around the bat. I suppose the plan is to cover the bat as best I can, then hope it flies straight into the net. Then I’ll just…run it outside.
I follow my new plan, place the net over the bat, then wait. Nothing happens. The bat remains pleasantly unaware and asleep. I blow on it. Nothing. I tentatively knock on the wall above it. Nothing. “Hey,” I whisper. “Wake up.” No movement.
A sudden banging on the window from outside scares the crap out of both me and the bat, who shoots out from the window just as
One hand reaches automatically for the notepad in my back pocket even as the rest of me knows I’m not going to fill out a requisition form. I’m not ready for another battle with Shane, and I’m ninety percent certain he would have killed the first bat if I hadn’t gotten in the way. Not only do I not have time to protect this new bat—or maybe the same bat all over again—I’m still shaking off the vestiges of my dream hang over and don’t want him to sense my weakness.
Okay, no problem. I saw him get rid of the bat yesterday—I’ll do it myself. I’ll just…Well, first I’ll take all of my supplies back to the supply closet, and then I’ll come back to deal with this. That makes the most sense. I still have twenty minutes before lunch, plenty of time to handle the bat, inspect twelve cabins, and mop the sweat off my forehead.
I stack my cleaning basket on top of the wet linens and groan as I straighten. It’s already hot as hell out here, I’m a mess, and my overheated skins seems to be reactivating invisible traces of vanilla. I changed my shirt after breakfast, but I still smell like the victim of a bath shop explosion. I stagger into the supply closet and drop off my basket. Sweat is actually dripping off my brow onto the floor, and I swipe the back of my arm across my face. There are sweat stains beneath my armpits. I’m disgusting. I’m desperate for another dip in the pool, but there’s no time. Instead I settle for splashing water on my face, wiping away smeared mascara, and changing into my third shirt of the day.
I toss my dirty shirt into an empty washing machine and grab a rag to snatch up the bat. Except now that I feel the rag in my hand it seems pretty…flimsy. Surely there’s a better way—Aha! A cleaning bucket. I’ll just…No, this is definitely not going to work well in a corner. And then I spot it: a net! I have no idea what it’s used for, but it’s covered in cobwebs so I can’t imagine it’s an essential ranch tool. Well, that’s perfect. I’ve just wrapped my fingers around the handle when I hear—
“Collecting butterflies?”
Shane.
I turn to see him propped up in the doorway, the sun squeaking in past his broad form. Why is he so big?
“Just…No. Just looking.”
“Huh.” He nods but doesn’t move. I let go of the net as though it’s of no interest to me. My eyes dart to the clock. 11:46. I have to be back here by noon for lunch.
“Did you need something?” I ask.
He holds up a square of paper. “Broken mirror in cabin five. Fixed now.”
“That’s great.”
He nods again.
“Did you need anything else?”
I can tell he’s trying not to smile. He knows he’s holding me up, and he knows I want the net. I stare him down.
“No, Kate,” he says finally. “That’s everything.”
He leaves, and I count to ten before sticking my head out the door and looking around. He’s out of sight, probably gone back to sit in the barn and act important. But I don’t have time to dwell. I dart inside, snatch up the net, and sprint back to cabin eleven.
The bat’s still in its resting place. I manage to move the curtain without disturbing it, then stare at the net. I’m not sure how this will work, exactly, because there’s no way to actually seal it around the bat. I suppose the plan is to cover the bat as best I can, then hope it flies straight into the net. Then I’ll just…run it outside.
I follow my new plan, place the net over the bat, then wait. Nothing happens. The bat remains pleasantly unaware and asleep. I blow on it. Nothing. I tentatively knock on the wall above it. Nothing. “Hey,” I whisper. “Wake up.” No movement.
A sudden banging on the window from outside scares the crap out of both me and the bat, who shoots out from the window just as
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