Page 71 of Always to Remember
Meg looked at Clay. “Did Kirk know about the bats?”
“Yes, ma’am. We found them when we were about twelve.”
“He never showed them to me,” she said, feeling a sense of loss.
“There’s a particular spot we have to go to so we can see them,” he said as his hands formed the shape of a mountain. “It’s not easy to get to, and he probably didn’t think you’d enjoy bats.”
“I’d like to see the bats,” she said.
“Miz Meg,” Joe said solemnly, “we should probably tell you that we’ve got one rule when it comes to goin’ to see the bats. If you decide to come with us, you gotta follow that rule.”
“And what’s the rule?”
“No matter how scared you get, you can’t turn back.”
Fear, as Meg soon discovered, could lope along beside her like two whistling twin boys. She jumped every time they hopped on a twig, broke a small branch off a tree in passing, or hollered, “Watch out!”
But she refused to turn back. As the shadows grew longer and they traveled farther, she hiked up her skirt and marched along with them.
Clay followed at an easy gait, leading her horse.
The twins stopped. “That’s it, Miz Meg.”
Meg searched the twilight sky. “Where? What does a bat look like? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one before.”
“Not the bats,” Josh said. “What we gotta climb to see the bats.”
Meg lowered her gaze and followed the trail of his pointing finger. The mountain loomed before her.
Clay might call it a hill, but it was a mountain.
“Sun’s goin’ down, so we gotta hurry!” Josh cried as he and Joe ran toward the mountain.
“You don’t have to do this,” Clay said quietly behind her.
She angled her chin. “Of course I do. That’s the rule.” Bending, she reached between her feet and grasping the back of her skirt, brought it up and tucked it into her waistband so she had a makeshift type of trousers. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thrown on Kirk’s clothes before she crawled out her bedroom window. Probably because she hadn’t realized she’d be out searching for bats.
She walked to the foot of the mountain and stared at the twins scrambling up its side. Grabbing the bushes as one went seemed to be the secret. She took a deep breath.
“I know you’re not fond of my touch,” Clay said, “so I think I’d better warn you. If you start to fall, I’ll do all in my power to catch you.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Then I’d best not fall.”
She flexed her fingers before wrapping them around the low branch of a bush. She stepped onto the slope.
“Test your weight on that spot before you go any farther,” Clay said.
“I can do this without your help,” she said as she glared at the high rocky ledge from which the twins were already peering down at her. She tried to test her weight on the spot without letting Clay see she was following his advice. She heard him move in behind her. “You’re not coming up with me, are you?”
“No, ma’am, I’ll follow a good distance behind.”
Meg released her stranglehold on the bush and lunged for another one. She pulled up inch by inch. She’d be at least a year older before she saw the bats.
The twins urged her on. She reached for another branch and scooted farther up the side of the hill. She had nothing to fear.
She glanced down. Clay still stood on the ground. He’d hiked one foot up so it rested on the hill, but his arms hung at his sides as though he were waiting for her to climb farther before he followed.
She moved her foot to a large rock protruding out of the dirt. She knew how strong rocks could be, so she shifted her weight to that side. The rock broke free of the earth and fell down the side of the hill. Losing her footing, she dangled from the bush.
