Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Then I tipped my head up toward the sun, ignoring how tired my thighs were, and that I was starting to drag my feet because each step was getting harder and harder. I already knew I was going to be hurting tomorrow. Hell, I was already hurting. My boots hadn’t been broken in enough for this and my toes and ankles were sore and chafed. Tomorrow, I was more than likely barely going to be able to move.
But it was going to be worth it.
It was worth it.
And I said quietly, filling my lungs with the freshest air I’d ever smelled, “Mom, you would have liked this one. It was pretty amazing.” I wasn’t sure why this one hadn’t been in her notebook, but I was so glad I’d done it.
And before I could think twice about it, I jogged forward. Amos glanced over at me as I threw my arms around his shoulders, giving him a quick hug. He tensed but didn’t push me away in the one-second embrace. “Thank you for coming, Am.”
Just as quickly as I hugged him, I let him go and turned around to go straight for my next victim.
He was big and walking forward, his face serious. Like always. But in the blink of an eye, that rabies-raccoon expression was back.
I got shy.
Then I held up my hand for him in a high five instead of a hug.
He looked at my hand, then looked at my face, then back to my hand.
And like I was ripping out his nails instead of asking for a high five, he lifted his big hand and lightly tapped my palm with his.
And I told him quietly, meaning every word, “Thank you for coming.”
His voice was a steady, quiet rumble. “You’re welcome.”
I smiled the entire way back to the car.
Chapter 12
When Clara’s mouth dropped open at the sight of my face a few days later, I knew that the concealer I’d used on my bruises that morning hadn’t pulled off a miracle like I’d hoped.
I mean, yesterday I’d figured they were going to be awful, but I hadn’t anticipated they would be so bad.
Then again, I’d had a bat house fall right on my face so….
At least I hadn’t gotten a concussion, right?
“Ora, who did that to you?”
I smiled and then instantly winced because it hurt. I’d slapped an ice pack on my cheek and another over my nose after I’d stopped seeing stars—and after I’d been able to finally catch my breath because, let me tell you, falling off a ladder hurt. But the ice hadn’t done much other than maybe keep the swelling down. Something was better than nothing.
“Me?” I asked, trying to play dumb, as I locked the shop door behind me. We still had fifteen minutes left before opening.
She blinked, set down the money she’d been counting into the register, and asked, almost cryptically, “It looks like you got punched.”
“I didn’t. I fell off a ladder and had a bat house fall on me.”
“You fell off a ladder?”
“And dropped a bat house on my face.”
She winced. “What were you doing putting up a bat house?” she gasped.
It had taken me days, at least five hours of research, and a whole lot of staring at the Rhodes’s house and property to set up a plan for battling the damn bats. Then my shipment had gotten delayed before finally arriving.
The problem was, I had never considered myself to be afraid of heights, but… the second I’d climbed up on a ladder leaning against a tree that I’d walked by countless times, I realized why I had felt that way.
I’d never been on anything taller than a kitchen island counter.
Because reality was, as soon as I’d been about three feet off the ground, my knees started shaking and I started to feel kind of ill.
And no amount of telling myself to buck up or reminding myself the worst that would happen would be that I’d break an arm, did… anything.
I’d started sweating, and my knees shook even worse.
And for what I needed, I needed to go as high up as possible—twelve to twenty feet, according to the instructions.
But all it took was the memory of the bat flying over my defenseless head while I slept… and the reality that I hadn’t actually slept more than thirty minutes on and off since Mr. Rhodes had saved me because I kept waking up paranoid, to get my ass up that A-frame ladder even though I was shaking so bad it jiggled with me, making it worse.
But it was either climbing up a tree close to the Rhodes’s property—and honestly tucked a little away because I hoped he wouldn’t see it because I had a feeling he might complain about it—or having to pull out the even bigger ladder from around the side of the main house and having to go even higher to find where the hell the bat was coming in from.