Page 15 of One Bed for the Bluestocking
“Yellow boas as long as a man.”He chuckled at the young man’s nervous expression.“Don’t fret.They can’t hurt us.They will, however, keep your barn free of rats.There are manatees and dolphins and sea turtles, and the water is so clear, you can see them as easily as I see you.And the birds…” Nathaniel paused, making a sound of rapture.“Where do I even begin with the birds?”
He proceeded to wax rhapsodically about the red-billed streamertail and the Jamaican tody, the crested quail-dove and the yellow-billed parrot.
Nathaniel had attended enough dinner parties to know that most people could tolerate such talk for no more than a minute or two.But the strangest thing happened.Kit wanted to know about the diet of the red-billed streamertail and the vocalizations of the yellow-billed parrot.He made Nat describe in exacting detail the precise shade of the Jamaican tody’s feathers—which was difficult, as Nat could not think of a single thing that was such a bright shade of green—and the nesting habits of the crested quail-dove.
He was imitating the call of the Jamaican pewee when he noticed that he had almost missed his turn.“Gracious,” he said, reining in the horse, “we’ve arrived.That was quick.”
“Time flies when you’re demonstrating the mating dance of the arrowhead warbler,” Kit joked.
Nat chuckled, but he couldn’t help but observe that it was true.It was rare to find someone with whom he could actually discuss his interests.The hour he’d passed in the gig with Kit had been one of the most enjoyable he’d spent in quite some time.
Beside him, Kit said, “Your love of Jamaica is obvious.If it’s not too bold of me to ask, why have you not returned?”
“Because there isn’t a university in Jamaica,” he answered honestly.“As much as I love it there, I want to be an academic, and there isn’t an opportunity for me to do so over there.”
He stated it lightly, but in truth, it was a bit of a sore spot.Back home, his pursuit of academia marked him as an eccentric.His desire to spend his life studying the natural world was better understood at the university, but he didn’t quite fit in there, either.He would always be the chap with dark skin and a funny accent.Although after nine years in Scotland, his friends back home in Jamaica would now regard his accent as strange, too.
His shoulders sagged.Sometimes, he felt like he didn’t fit in anywhere anymore.
He forced a cheerful note into his voice as he added, “My dream is to someday do a project similar to the one we’re about to embark upon, and to document the wildlife native to Jamaica.”
“I hope you get to someday,” Kit said softly.
“Me, too, Kit.Me, too.”He drew the horse to a halt outside a stone cottage.“Here we are.I’ll introduce you to Farmer Ross.”
Mr.Ross pumped Kit’s hand enthusiastically, then gestured toward the field behind his house.“The burrow’s in the back corner over there.It happens that I had some lumber on hand, as I’m getting ready to build a new outbuilding.I went ahead and built you a hide of sorts.”
“That was kind of you,” Nathaniel said, surprised.“Thank you.Truly.”
Mr.Ross waved this off.“’Twas no trouble.”
He led them to the spot.A tiny shed had been erected about ten feet away from the haystack—the perfect distance to observe the badgers without spooking them.Although it was just after five o’clock, the sun was already sinking low in the sky.Soon, it would be dusk, and the badgers would emerge for the night.
“Right.I’ll leave you to it.”Mr.Ross headed back toward the farmhouse.
Nathaniel held the shed door open for Kit.“After you.”
Kit peered at the shed, his expression uncertain.“Is it not a bit narrow?”
“It’ll be a squeeze,” Nat acknowledged.“But well worth it for the opportunity to observe badgers at close range.”
Kit shifted from foot to foot.“Maybe we should take it in turns.”
Nat felt a spark of annoyance.Fieldwork was frequently cold, wet, and miserable, and when it wasn’t, it was hot, dusty, and miserable.A wooden shed containing an actual seat was luxurious compared to the conditions they would face on Lewis.
If this excursion was too onerous for Kit, then Nat wasn’t sure that this partnership would work out.
He grabbed Kit by the upper arm.“We’ll manage.”
Kit squealed but went willingly into the shed and squeezed himself onto the wooden bench seat without any more complaints.
Nat paused to remove his notebook and a pencil from his satchel, trying to get his temper under control, before following him inside.Kit was an extraordinarily talented artist.But when it came to scientific illustration, artistic talent was not enough.You had to be tenacious and willing to work in harsh conditions.
Nat had staked his career on this young man.Had that been a mistake?
He supposed he was about to find out.Ducking his head, he followed Kit into the shed.
Chapter9
