Cabin Girl (2 page)

I push the damaged muffins to one side of the wagon and continue with my deliveries. When I'm done, I head back to the kitchen. Up ahead I see Sid. He's on course to walk straight across the path in front of me. Before that happens, I call him over. He might not be a cat, but he is black, and with the luck I've been having, I don't want to take any chances. Sid immediately changes direction and trots toward me. Disaster averted. I offer him a piece of muffin.

Once the guests hit the lake, I can begin cleaning. In the meantime, I have a half hour to grab some breakfast.

The staff dining room opens onto the back deck of the lodge. The guides have already eaten, so the place is deserted—except for Winnie. Winnie is the grouchiest person I've ever met. She could out-sour lemons! She is always on my case. Even though I haven't done anything wrong yet today—she doesn't know about the muffins—I want to turn around and walk back outside. But I know she's seen me, so I say good morning and head over to the food counter.

I lift the lids of the metal warming pans—cold scrambled eggs, cold bacon, cold pan fries and limp toast. I opt for cereal and juice.

“Six guests out today and eight new ones in, all by ten thirty,” Winnie says before I even sit down. “So cabins three, eight and nine get a change of linen as well as a cleaning. And you'll need to wash the floors in all the cabins. With yesterday's rain, there will be mud everywhere. When you're done with that, you can help me hang bedding on the line to air.”

I pour milk on my cereal and nod. Winnie slurps her coffee. When the screen door opens, we both look up.

“Morning, ladies.” Ed smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. He grabs a mug. “How's the coffee?”

“Wet,” Winnie says. I'm amazed at how grumpy she can sound with one word.

“Just how I like it.” Ed smiles again and picks up the carafe. “Can I pour you another cup, Winnie?”

She shakes her head and sets her cup in the dirty-dish bin. “I have work to do.” Then she taps her watch and glares at me. “And so do you. Best get to it.”

“Yes, Winnie,” I mumble and start to get up.

Ed puts a hand on my shoulder. “Let the girl finish her breakfast, Winnie. The guests haven't even left the dining room yet.”

Winnie doesn't answer. She just scowls and stomps out the door.

I don't get it. The woman is in a perpetual bad mood. Someone needs to give her smiling lessons. I glance at Ed. He would be the guy for the job. He has happy lines even when he's not smiling.

“She hates me,” I say when the screen door bangs shut.

Ed takes the seat Winnie vacated and, of course, smiles. “That's just her way. Don't take it personal.”

“But I do! It's like she's waiting for me to screw up. She's such a—” I stop before I say something I might regret.

Ed looks at me over the top of his mug. “Such a…?”

I shake my head. “Let's just say she's working at the right place.”

Ed's eyebrows dive together in a puzzled frown.

I lean toward him and whisper, “Witch Lake. I think the place was named after her.”

Ed says, “I wouldn't let Winnie hear you say that.”

We both smile. Then Ed returns to his coffee, and I finish my cereal.

As I push the bowl away, I ask, “How did the lake get its name?”

He gets up and pours more coffee. “There's a legend,” he says, “about a fur trader who lived on the lake back in the seventeen hundreds. Like most trappers, he was a loner. He spent the winter months here in northern Manitoba. Then, in the spring, he'd head south and sell his furs.

“He married himself a Cree woman, the daughter of a shaman. After a time, they had a little girl, built a cabin and settled on the lake. But every spring he'd leave for a few weeks to trade his furs.

“One afternoon while he was away, three woodsmen stumbled upon the cabin. Seeing the place was occupied, they hid behind some trees and watched all afternoon and into the evening. The moon was full, so it was easy to see. When they were sure the woman and her teenage daughter were alone, they moved in and took the cabin by force.

“Mother and daughter fought hard, but they were outnumbered and overpowered. During the skirmish, the mother was thrown against a wall. Her neck snapped, and she died instantly.”

I gasp. “Oh, no! That's terrible! What about the girl?”

Ed takes a gulp of coffee before he continues. “That's the crazy part. According to the legend, she went into a trance and started chanting in Cree. Then—right there in the cabin—she turned into a giant black bear. In a matter of minutes, she tore two of the woodsmen to pieces. Then she burst into flame, burning the cabin to the ground. The last woodsman raced back to civilization.

“Of course, when he told people what had happened, nobody believed him. They thought he'd lost his mind, which, by that time, he pretty much had.”

“What about the fur trader?”

“He went back to the lake, but there was nothing there—no cabin and no sign of his wife or daughter.”

“Not even ashes or bones?”

Ed shakes his head. “All he found was his daughter's necklace. It was on the ground at the edge of the lake. The necklace had been passed down through the shaman's family and was thought to be magical. The girl had never taken it off. Legend has it that every full moon, she comes back to the lake to look for it.”

A shiver races up my spine. “You mean her ghost?”

He nods. “That's what they say. Some of the guests at the lodge have claimed they've seen her.”

I feel the blood drain out of me. “Have you?”

Ed pushes back his chair and stands up. “Not so far.” For once, he's not smiling.

Chapter Three

Somehow I make it through my first two weeks at the lodge without getting fired. It could be because Gabe is never around when I mess up, which is amazing, since I mess up a lot. The harder I try to do things right, the more goes wrong. Thank goodness for April. If it wasn't for our nighttime chats, I'd probably crawl under a rock and never come out. But she understands what I'm going through.

We are getting ready for bed after a long day when I admit how much I hate being the butt of everyone's jokes. I feel sick about my mistakes, but everybody else in camp acts like they're a big joke. You'd think I'd been hired as comic relief instead of a cabin girl.

“It's like that for everyone at the beginning,” she says. “Don't worry about it.”

I sigh. “You don't understand. This was supposed to be my chance to show everyone that I'm not a little kid anymore.”

“Show who?”

I shrug. “My parents mostly. I'm sixteen years old, but they treat me like I'm ten. I have to get their approval for every little thing I do. For instance, all my friends are getting their drivers' licenses, but not me. Even though the law says I'm old enough, my parents think I'm too young. If I do okay here, I'm hoping they'll let me make my own decisions.” I roll my eyes. “The only reason they let me take this job is because Gabe owns the camp, and even then I had to beg to be allowed to do it. They're counting on Gabe to keep an eye on me. Like he has the time. He's so busy he barely knows I'm here.”

April laughs. “That's good, right?”

I smile sheepishly. “I guess.” Then I add quietly, “I wish I was like you.”

“What d'ya mean?”

“You know—independent, the boss of myself. I want to run my own life—like you do. No one tells you what to do. You can do anything you want.”

“I don't know about that, but I do like trying new things. Like, when the season is over here at the lodge, I'm going to—”

Suddenly April stops talking.

“What?” I say. “What are you going to do?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I shouldn't have said anything. It's not for sure yet.”

“Come on, April. Tell me. I won't say anything.” When she doesn't answer, I add, “Hey, I shared my secret with you.”

For another minute or so, April looks at me like she's trying to decide. Finally, she says, “Okay, but you can't tell anybody. Promise?”

I nod and cross my heart. “Absolutely.”

“Okay,” she says again and leans in closer. “I'm going to open a flower shop. Come the fall, I should have enough money saved.”

“April, that's great! You see? I was right. You can do anything.”

It's been three whole days without a screwup, so I think I'm over whatever my problem was. Now that I know what I'm doing, I'm more relaxed. I'm not tired all the time either, and I don't ache everywhere. Lately I've even been waking up before the alarm, though that might only be self-defense.

Best of all, I'm starting to fit in with camp life. Everyone is really friendly. Well, everyone except Winnie. But I think Ed's right about her. She's just naturally grumpy.

Today was a great day. I got a tip from some guests, so after supper I decide to buy myself a treat at the camp store. The Witch's Lair, as it's called, is open in the morning before the guests go fishing and then again for a couple of hours in the evening. There's not a lot in it—mostly fishing gear, chocolate bars, sunglasses, mosquito repellent, that sort of thing. Drake usually runs the store, but this evening Ed is behind the counter.

“Well, look who the wind blew in,” he says with a wink. “What can I get for you, Bailey?”

“Ice cream. I've been dreaming about it all day.”

He gestures to the freezer. “Help yourself.”

I lift the lid and start digging around inside. When somebody jabs me in the ribs, I look up. It's April. She's come for cigarettes. Like most everyone in camp, she smokes.

“Ice cream's better,” I holler as she leaves.

She turns and gives me the finger, but she's smiling, so I grin back.

“You two getting along all right?” Ed asks when she's gone.

I nod. “For sure. April's great—kinda like my Witch Lake Lodge big sister. Well, maybe not big—she's pretty little, but you know what I mean.”

“I never had a sister.”

“Me neither. But if I did, I'd want her to be like April.”

“Why's that?”

I shrug. “She's smart. She's good at her job, and she's tough. Did you know she's been on her own since she was fourteen?”

“Nope. Can't say that I did.”

“Well, she has. And as you can see, she's doing fine.” I want to tell Ed how April's going to open a flower shop, but I promised April I'd keep that information to myself, so I don't say anything.

Ed pulls back and squints at me. “Are you the president of her fan club or what?”

I frown. “Now you're making fun of me.”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. I don't mean to. You're actually a breath of fresh air around here. So I'd hate—”

April pokes her head back in the open doorway. “Come on, Bailey.” She gestures for me to hurry. “The guys have set up the volleyball net. We're going to have a game.” Then her head disappears again.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ed says. “Get out there.”

After the game, one of the guides walks April and me back to our cabin. His name is Sloan, and he's totally hot. His abs ripple right through his T-shirt. But he's a lot older than I am. If Gabe even suspected I liked him, I'd be on the next plane home. Besides, Sloan has a thing for April. I can tell. I think she likes him too.

I glance up at the moon. It's lopsided, like somebody shaved away part of one side. In a few more days, it will be full. The thought makes my heart skip a few beats.

“Do you guys know anything about the Witch Lake legend?” I ask.

“Sure,” Sloan says. “Everybody knows the legend. Why?”

I heave a sigh. “No reason. It's just such a sad story, and it's kind of spooky. Ed says the witch comes back to look for her necklace when the moon is full.” I point to the sky. “That's pretty soon.”

April laughs. “Don't tell me you buy all that mumbo jumbo. It's just a story. We tell it to the guests to make the lake seem mysterious.” She laughs again.

“But it has to be true,” I argue.

“Why?”

“Because Ed said some of the guests have seen her.”

“No doubt.” Sloan chuckles. “After a few drinks, people see all kinds of things.”

He and April laugh again and go back to flirting. When we get to the cabin, I leave them on the steps and get ready for bed. I'm under the covers and flipping through a magazine when April comes in. I expect her to start gushing about Sloan, but all she does is grab a hand mirror and tweezers off her bureau, plunk herself on her bed and start working on her eyebrows. When she's done, she puts the mirror and tweezers down and heads into the bathroom.

There's clearly not going to be any girl talk tonight, so I toss the magazine onto the night table, switch out the light and burrow beneath my covers. Right away I start to drift off. There's nothing like fresh air and exercise to conk a person out. I don't even hear April come back into the room.

Crash!

I bolt upright. “What was that?”

“Sorry,” April says. She's on her knees, picking up glass shards. “I broke the mirror. I forgot I left it on the bed, and when I pulled back the covers, it fell on the floor.” She pads across the room to get the broom and dustpan.

“That's seven years bad luck,” I murmur.

She stops sweeping and blinks at me in disbelief. Finally she shakes her head. “You have to be the most superstitious person I have ever met. On Friday the thirteenth, you stay in bed all day, don't you? The only bad thing about breaking that mirror, Bailey, is that now I have no mirror.”

I know April thinks I'm being silly, but I don't back down. “You can call me superstitious if you want,” I say. “I call it being careful. Things happen all the time that people can't explain. I'm not saying there are such things as spirits, but you can't prove there aren't.”