Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) by Lisa Acerbo (best motivational books for students .TXT) 📕

the closest town was nearly twenty miles away. The group, since their arrival, had also fortified most of the inn’s boundaries with fences.

Winded, Jenna huffed, slowing to a walk, ambling around the grounds. The morning sun warmed her shoulders, but the air remained crisp.

She’d put the incident behind her. Put Caleb behind her for good and start fresh in the garden. Inside chores be damned. While everyone cooked, did laundry and kept public areas clean in collaboration, some chores were like Streakers guts. Disgusting.

Human or New Race, the common area men’s bathrooms were disgusting, and that was the duty awaiting today. Sure, there were private bathrooms in each room, but people often used the common bathrooms to conserve water.

A good soldier, she never complained outright, but wished for more time to spend on personal projects.

While there was so much to like at the inn, George’s words about sticking to the kitchen had enjoyed some truth. She no longer had to kill Streakers and thanks to the landscape and solid fences erected, patrols were irregular. As much as she hated it, men banded together for labor intensive jobs like cutting and hauling wood and special projects like the gasifier. She cooked and cleaned, completing mundane chores.

She’d save chores until later out of consideration to New Racers who tended to live nocturnally and sleep through the afternoon.

A lame excuse, but justification for her actions.

After spending so many months living in close proximity to everyone, wasting an amazing day was an impossible idea. It didn’t even matter she ran outside in pajamas.

One thing about living through the apocalypse, no one cared if you were eccentric, as long as a beating heart confirmed you were of the living.

Jenna put a hand to shade her eyes so she could see the tilled plot of land that would become a garden. A frown formed.

What was there?

Bursting into another sprint, this time her shouting was for an entirely different reason. Rabbits and deer in her garden, sure, but this.

“Get away,” Jenna yelled at the big white horses whose heads hung over the chicken wire fence she had erected. “Move, move!”

The horses failed to comply.

“Really?”

The horses looked at her with skepticism.

Out of breath once again, she approached the large, rather filthy, animals.

“How did you make it so long, out here alone?”

The horses looked at her perplexed and wary but did not shy away. They’d stopped munching the tops of the carrots which had only begun to sprout. At least they had left the beets, kale, and turnips untouched.

Jenna had started her garden the first weeks after the group arrived, finding the work soothing, but a lack of knowledge frustrating. It wasn’t like she could jump on a computer and Google what crops to plant in late summer and early fall.

She was nothing if not persistent and planted, watered, and watched carrots, turnips, radishes, cucumbers, beets, and Swiss chard emerge from seed.

Proud. Heck yes but not alone in the venture.

There were mornings she’d come out to the garden and find the entire area watered and weeded. No one admitted to being her garden elf. She wished she could thank the person or people helping, and soon, the garden would be too big of a job for a single soul. Many hands would need to pitch in when the plants made the trip to the greenhouse.

What to do with the plants in the winter would be another challenge. Weeds triumphed daily and the greenhouse required serious rehabilitation. Broken windows needed replacement and the tables for potting the plants, repaired. She put time in at the greenhouse every day, but it was slow going.

What about the problem in front of her?

The horse’s mane reminded her of her former best friend’s long hair. Holding tight, she led the beast away. Large hooves clomped next to her boots. It followed willingly, bobbing its head against the flies. The second one fell in line.

I guess even summer horsemanship camp becomes useful during the ends of time.

The drafts plodded along side to a nearby field where they grazed. Hoping the horses wouldn’t bolt, Jenna trekked across the field to a barn for rope. Quentin was inside, welding a broken pipe from one of the bathroom sinks. His bare, rugged arms filled out a T-shirt stained from sweat and hard work. Recently cropped sandy brown hair stood straight and spiked.

“Hey stranger.” A gap-tooth smile beamed.

While Caleb had become a ghost, she’d seen a lot of Quentin.

They managed to turn up in the same place or work on the same project. The more close and comfortable they became, the farther Caleb slipped away. She hated the stilted conversation when they should be mourning Eric’s death together. Every attempt to approach him and offer comfort met resistance and, at times, hostility.

“How are you today?” Quentin asked.

“Two horses have invaded my garden. Do you have something to tie them with in here?”

“Horses? Can I see?” His eyes lit with excitement.

Her heart fluttered. Maybe. A little.

“Sure. The more the merrier when wrangling horses.”

“They used to have an equine program here. Everything you need should be around somewhere.” Moving toward the other side of the barn, he pointed to the wall. “There’s lead ropes and halters. A ton of stuff. I’m not sure what half of it is for, and I used to ride.”

“Me too. I took lessons when I was younger, and I went to camp. I wonder if the two outside are ridable?”

“We could go out on a trail ride together if they are. Do they look okay?”

“A little skinny and very dirty, but we can add some weight to them in the next few weeks if they come in the barn and learn to trust us.”

“You plan on keeping them here?”

“Why not. I love a new challenge. First a cat and now this.” She grabbed two halters and lead lines.

“Don’t forget the chickens Ford brought back last week. You’re becoming the official animal whisperer.”

“How’d I forget the chickens? I hope we get some eggs soon.”

“We’ll need to start