Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 126823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
The café had been built with the exact intent to show off the sky’s colorful display. In Shabina’s eye, the building was a work of art and had captured her dream exactly. Sitting at any booth or table in ninety percent of the café, one could see the vibrant colors spreading across the sky. If a storm came in, those darker purples looked amazing and quite beautiful.
Patsy escorted a group of four men to one of the premier tables near the bank of windows showcasing the rising sun. For a moment, Shabina’s heart dropped. Three of the four men wore the traditional garb of men from the Middle East. Her mouth went dry, and her hands went clammy. She forced air through her lungs. They had visitors from different countries all the time, and she didn’t have problems with any religious beliefs. What was wrong with her? Stella had already advised her that students were coming from the university. They would be on her bird-watching tour as well.
“I guess I should work too,” she told Raine.
She waited until they had gone over the menu before she approached the table. The men were speaking to one another in Arabic. Two had Algerian accents, one sounded as if he might be from Turkey, and the last, she was certain, was from Belgium. That meant nothing. As usual, she asked if they had any questions on the menu. When each answered, she listened carefully to make certain she was correct about their accents and where they might have originated from. Only the man from Belgium had a French accent.
Disregarding her natural inclination to wait until they asked questions, she chatted as if she knew little about their culture, asking if they’d met at the university and had been friends a long time. The answer was important.
Jules Beaumont had met the three others at Sunrise Lake. They’d found they were attending the same university, although none shared the same classes. Emar Salhi and Jamal Talbi were from the same tribe in Algeria and were furthering their education in the hopes of modernizing many of the agricultural techniques to help their people. Deniz Kaplan, from Turkey, had met the two at the university and become friends. He’d decided to take the opportunity to vacation in Yosemite with them. They were pleased that Shabina was going to be their guide for the bird tour on Tuesday. They were looking forward to it.
Shabina couldn’t find fault with any of the four. They treated her respectfully. Everything they said made sense. It shouldn’t be a red flag that Jules Beaumont hadn’t known the others prior to coming to Sunrise Lake Resort and that he spoke fluent Arabic along with French. Shabina spoke Arabic, Italian, and French as well as several other languages.
Many university students vacationed there. Most were climbers or hikers. Some enjoyed fishing. Sunrise Lake was the halfway point between Yosemite and Knightly. Staying there in one of the cabins or the campgrounds with showers and bathroom facilities was a good compromise. Getting permits to camp in the park was becoming difficult, and Knightly didn’t have a lot of accommodations.
She waited tables and made her rounds all the while keeping an eye on the four men. None of them seemed to take special interest in her. They didn’t sneak out their cell phones and snap pictures of her. They didn’t seem to be talking about her, but they lingered longer than most customers did.
The table across from theirs held the five young people who had been hired to rehabilitate the trails in Yosemite. The two women were in their early twenties. Both had dark, straight hair pulled back into ponytails.
“I’m Georgia, and this is my sister, Mandy.” The older of the two girls introduced them. “We’re from West Virginia and started out hiking the trails in the Appalachian Mountains. It’s so incredibly beautiful there. We always wanted to hike Yosemite and saw the job come up and applied immediately.”
“Do either of you boulder?” Shabina asked. It was unusual for anyone to come to Knightly and not want to attempt to climb the famous boulders.
The two girls looked at one another and burst out laughing. It was Mandy who answered. “No. I guess we’re in the minority. We’re avid backpackers. We’ve already mapped out so many trails we want to hike through Yosemite on our time off.”
“At least we won’t have to worry about you getting lost like that poor dude who didn’t make it back to his group last night,” said a blond man.
Shabina recognized him from the year before. She gave him a bright smile. “Pete. It’s nice to see you again. You too, Billy.” Like the women, they were also in their early twenties. They’d frequented her café the year before so much that she remembered their routine orders for both breakfast and lunch. They were definitely climbers, both boulder and trad climbers. She wasn’t surprised that they’d taken jobs at Yosemite again.