Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Dammit. I lowered my eyes to the floor. “She’s better off without me,” I said. I could feel his eyes on me, watchful and sad. “But I’ll take that bourbon now.”
He poured it silently and put it in my hand. I knocked it back and let the burn of it wash the pain away. For a while. Three days. Three days and then I’ll never see her again.
“Thanks for the drink,” I told him. Then I handed him the lockbox and headed upstairs.
Bethany was standing in front of a wall, where a sheet of gray fabric had been pinned as a background. The woman in the silk robe was just lowering a digital camera. “All done. See you in three days.”
We climbed back onto the raft. Rufus decided he’d swim, this time, and doggy-paddled alongside. As we hauled the raft along, Bethany asked, “What did Jacques want?”
“Nothing,” I told her. “Nothing at all.”
33
Bethany
IT WAS THE first day after meeting Jacques and I was deep in the woods with Cal. That morning, he’d told me that he wanted to teach me to hunt. It caught me off guard. I was only going to be there a few more days and Cal brought home all the food we needed without breaking a sweat, and even if I did learn, I wasn’t going to be anywhere near as good as him anytime soon. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
First, I watched how he did it. He’d sight a target, way off in the distance, and circle a little so that he was in its path. Then he’d go stock still, becoming one with the forest. He was like a rock, unmoving, unblinking, barely breathing. And then a crack and the target fell to the ground as if he’d reached out with an invisible hand, and Rufus ran off to collect it. I shook my head in wonder. “You’re amazing,” I muttered.
He shook his head and shrugged. “I started young.”
Then it was my turn. He handed me the rifle and showed me the basics. I handled it like a live snake, terrified I was going to drop it and blow my head off. But he stood behind me, his warm body pressed against my back and his big hands covering mine, and helped me load and cock it, bring it to my shoulder and sight on a paper target he’d pinned to a tree. And when it was time to pull the trigger and I just couldn’t, too scared of the explosion, he whispered in my ear that it was okay, that I could do it. He was a good teacher, gentle and patient. He should be out here doing this with a son or a daughter.
I fired. The rifle kicked and boomed and I stumbled back, shell-shocked. I didn’t think I’d hit anything but he showed me the ragged hole that had been punched in the corner of the paper target. I fingered the shredded edges and thought I did that. I shot something.
After ten shots into paper, he led me further into the woods. He took my hand in his and walked with me, teaching me step by step how he moved. I’d already learned to be quiet, but he wanted me to be silent.
When I could do that, he stood me in the middle of a clearing, brought out a neckerchief and tied it over my eyes. I swallowed. I’d read enough books that being blindfolded, with him standing so close, triggered a million filthy fantasies. My whole body seemed to throb, my skin suddenly alive and aching to be touched. Down, girl!
“You hunt with your ears as much as your eyes,” he told me. “Now listen.”
And once I’d gotten myself under control, I listened. Really listened. And after a few minutes, I started to hear things I hadn’t, before. There was the background sound of the woods: the wind rustling the leaves, the creak of branches. But layered on top of that was a second layer, one made up of movement. I could hear birds flapping as they haggled over the best perches, mice scampering through the grass, twigs being brushed aside by rabbits and deer. I looked around at the darkness, following my ears, entranced.
Gentle hands slipped the blindfold off and I looked up into blue eyes. He looked questioningly at me. Understand?
I nodded.
What I didn’t understand was why he was doing all this. Was he trying to fill the time until I left, so we didn’t have to think about it too much?
An hour later, as we crept silently through the undergrowth with Rufus slinking along next to us, he held up his hand: Stop. He pointed and I caught my breath. A deer, grazing peacefully, completely unaware of us.
He nodded to me and my heart sank. I raised the rifle and took off the safety. Sighted on the center of the deer’s body….