Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Now, the fire pit sits empty and the camp is quiet, but this book is way better than I thought it would be, and I actually don’t mind having tons of time to sit and read alone.
The next day, I repeat the same schedule through most of the morning, except I take a longer swim and follow it with an extra-long nap while partially concealed by the canopy of pine trees. When I stir, I realize it’s because there’s a group of deer nearby, chomping on some plants only a few yards away from me. I hold perfectly still, watching two white-freckled fawns as they stick close to their mom, stealing sips of milk when they get the chance. They’re tiny and clumsy, both greedy for food. I laugh when one of them nudges the other out of the way, and the doe’s head perks up at the sound before she darts away, her offspring following quickly after her. The three of them remind me of my family, and the thought doesn’t fill me with sadness like I thought it would. I feel hope. I’m doing the right thing for my mom and McKenna. Being here means making more money than I ever could back in Oak Dale. Just because Jeremy is gone doesn’t mean anything bad will happen. I’ve made friends with a few of the guys, and I’m beginning to find a place of my own among the crew.
With that thought, I shed my towel and dip back into the lake, going for a second swim before I trudge back to camp, soaking wet.
In late spring, the temperature isn’t quite hot enough to warm me, and I’m still shivering by the time I make it back to the cabin. I change and eat a late lunch before sitting out on the porch, reading. I’m nearing the end of the paperback and the suspense is killing me. The author has been building toward an epic battle and I know I need to read quickly if I want to finish it before Ethan gets back.
The wind picks up and I shiver, unsure of the time. I was too hungry to rinse off earlier, but when I walk back into the cabin to escape the cool wind, my eyes catch on the aluminum tub in the corner. There’s a drain on one side. I know it could be used as a bath, and it’s clean thanks to my sweep of the cabin this week. The showers around the camp don’t get hot water. They get whatever the hell water they pull up from the wells, and usually that means quick freezing-cold showers taken with chattering teeth and goose bumps covering my entire body.
A hot bath sounds like an indulgence I can’t pass up, even if it means boiling water in the mess hall and lugging it back to Rose Cabin over and over again. My arms are shaky from exertion by the time I’m done, but when I put my hand down into the half-filled tub, I nearly groan with pleasure. The water has cooled down enough that it doesn’t scald my skin, but it’s still hot enough to relieve my aching muscles after I strip off my clothes and step in.
I lather up my arms and legs then spend extra time on my hair, letting the conditioner sink in while I lie back and close my eyes. The scent of my floral body wash hangs heavy in the air. I could stay here forever, but I pry my eyes open and finish washing so I can reach for the paperback and rush to finish the last few pages. Before Ethan gets back, I’ll have to put it right back where I found it so he doesn’t know I’ve borrowed it all weekend.
My fingers and toes turn to prunes and the water cools another few degrees as I turn pages, hungry for resolution.
I’m so caught up in the fast-paced ending that I don’t notice the creak of the cabin stairs or the sound of the door opening. All I know is one minute, I’m alone in that cabin, reading, and the next, I glance up just as Ethan freezes in the doorway, staring straight at me in the tub.
I scream and his paperback flies out of my hand, landing in the water with a heavy thunk. My eyes widen and I don’t give a crap that I’m so exposed because I WAS TWO PAGES AWAY FROM FINISHING and now—NOW the book is sopping wet.
“No, no, no!” I scramble to pull it up out of the water and shake it quickly. Water flies into my eye, but who cares?!
I lurch over the side of the tub and lay the book out on my towel, patting it dry.
“I’m so, so sorry!”
I didn’t want him to know I read his book. Now not only does he know I read it without asking him, I’ve ruined it too.