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)
Except for the fact that apparently, eagles were several times bigger than their smaller cousins.
I left to go into town then, buying some gifts for my family before circling back to the grocery store. By the time I got home, the Parks and Wildlife truck was back. Most importantly though, there was a long ladder propped against the side of the garage apartment, and at the very top rung was a big man holding a can in one hand and aiming it toward the seam between the roof and the siding.
I parked my car in its usual spot and hopped out, ignoring my bags in the back seat so I could see what was going on. Wandering toward the ladder, I called out, “Whatcha doing?”
Mr. Rhodes was about as high up as he could possibly reach, the arm holding the can extended about as far from the rest of his body as possible. “Filling holes.”
“Do you need help?”
He didn’t reply before he reached a little over to the side and apparently filled in another hole.
For bats.
He was filling in holes for the bats.
Since I hadn’t had another visitor, I’d forgotten all about him filling them in.
“I got one more and I’m done,” he said before scooting over just a little toward the side and filling in another. He tucked the can into the back band of his pants and climbed slowly down.
I watched his thighs and butt the whole time. I wasn’t proud of myself.
He’d changed from his uniform into jeans and another T-shirt. I wanted to whistle but didn’t.
He finally hopped down and turned, taking the can out from where he’d stashed it.
“Thank you for doing that,” I told him, eyeing the gray hair mixed in with the brown. It looked so nice on him.
Mr. Rhodes’s eyebrows rose a little bit. “Didn’t want you to give me that one-star review,” he deadpanned. Shocking the shit out of me.
First, he’d laughed earlier; now he was making a joke? Had he gotten kidnapped by aliens? Had he finally figured out that I wasn’t some creep?
I wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t like it mattered. I was going to embrace it. Who knew when the next time he was this friendly was going to be? “It would have been like a three,” I told him.
One corner of his mouth went up just a little.
Was that a smile?
“I was about to put up that bat house that almost killed you next,” he went on.
He was joking with me. My first changeling. I didn’t even know how to respond he surprised me so bad. As I picked my jaw up off the ground, my mom’s voice spoke softly into my ear and I pushed my shoulders down. It was my turn to get serious. “Would you mind showing me how to do it instead?” I paused. “I’d really like to know how.”
He towered over me, watchfully, like maybe he thought I was joking. But he must have been able to tell I was serious because then he nodded. “All right. Let’s get you some gloves and what we’ll need.”
I brightened up. “Really?”
His eyes bounced from one of mine to the other. “If you want to learn, I’ll show you.”
“I really do. Just in case I ever have to do it again.” I hoped not.
He dipped his chin. “I’ll be right back.”
While he went inside to get the gloves, I grabbed my bags from the car and took them upstairs. By the time I made it back, Mr. Rhodes had lowered the ladder and moved it back to where it belonged on the other side of the garage apartment. He brought around the ladder that had tried to kill me and dipped back into the house to grab the bat house that he’d brought downstairs at some point.
“Take the house,” he said, holding it in his arms.
Take the house, please? Ooh.
I smiled and reached to take it. We headed off toward the same tree I had attempted to use the last time. How he’d pinpointed it, I had no idea. Maybe I’d left the imprint of a human body in the dirt around it. “Did you have a busy day?” I asked him instead.
He didn’t look at me. “I spent all morning on a trail because a hiker found some remains.” He cleared his throat. “After that, I took a golden eagle to a rehabilitator—”
I groaned. “It really was an eagle?”
“One of the biggest ones the rehabber has ever seen. She said she had to weigh close to fifteen pounds.”
I stopped walking. “Fifteen pounds?”
“She had a good laugh over you snatching it up and putting it in the crate like it was a parakeet.”
“Good thing I like bringing people joy.”
I was pretty sure he smiled, or at least did that thing that would only be considered a smile on his face, this mouth-twisting thing. “It’s not every day someone grabs a predator and calls it a pretty boy,” he said.