Free Moonlighting in Vermont by Kate George Page A

boots in the grass, but the rest of me was a lost cause. I swung my mud-plastered leg over the seat of the bike. I’d be cleaning this machine before I rode it again. I headed home, where I took my second shower of the day and flopped onto the bed to try and unravel my bizarre life.
It was dusk when I woke up. I yawned and made myself get out of bed. I padded down the stairs and looked in the fridge. I didn’t see anything I wanted so I grabbed the Moose Tracks ice cream out of the freezer. I ate half the carton standing up, leaning against the counter.
I went to feed the outside animals. Then the dogs were hounding me, so I fed them and the cat, too. The rain had stopped. The evening was crisp and clear. The breeze had blown the damp air away into the night. I stood on the porch, hugging my sweatshirt around me, and watched the sky darkening while Annabelle entwined herself around my ankles.
I walked out to the paddock behind the barn, where Lucky was snarfing up hay. I hopped the fence and stood with him, rubbing a spot on his back just above his tail. He blew air at me and went back to his dinner. It was his way of telling me he liked being scratched. I told him about the fight with Meg and riding home all muddy. Lucky turned around, rubbed his face on my arm and let me pull the tangles out of his forelock with my fingers.
I headed back indoors and checked the clock. I wasn’t scheduled to work at the Inn this evening, but I had a ton of unfinished work at the paper. The couch was calling my name but it seemed kind of pathetic to fall asleep watching TV. I grabbed my jacket off the hook and pulled on my boots and helmet. I picked up some rags and a soft brush and headed for the bike.
The mud on my bike was still too wet to be brushed off. I dragged the hose off the porch, attached it to the spigot, and pretended I had a high-pressure washer. That did the job, and I dried the bike with the towels. I put on my jacket and helmet. I threw my leg over the bike, forced myself into the darkness, and headed down the hill into town.
I was clicking along down the dirt road, about halfway to town, when I saw movement in the hay field to my right. I slowed a little and flicked my eyes to the right. Definitely something out there, but it was too dark to see what it was.
I glanced back at the road and then tried to focus on the movement. It was too big to be a dog. Too slight for a cow. Didn’t move like a bear. The clouds cleared a little, and I took another look. Bells went off in my head. It was a fawn, a lone fawn. I shifted my vision back to the road in front of me, and in that instant, a doe appeared directly in front of me.
    Five
    I shoved the bike to the left, trying to swerve behind the doe as she bounded across the road in front of me. The bike missed the deer but lost traction. My tires started to slide out from underneath me on the gravel. I shoved right, trying to force the bike upright. It was too late. The dirt road was slick from the rain, and the bike was going down. I hit the engine cutoff switch, curled onto my side and pulled my left leg free of the bike as I hit the dirt. The bike slid for what seemed like forever, but it was probably only a couple of seconds.
    I lay in the road for a moment staring into the dark sky. My left thigh felt like it was on fire. I hoisted myself up and gingerly moved around. Nothing seemed to be broken, but my leg hurt like hell, and I could feel warm blood seeping into my pants. The doe and her fawn were long gone. Well, at least I hadn’t hit either of them.
    It occurred to me that if a car came along now, I’d be flattened. I muscled my bike up off the road. I couldn’t see it clearly, but I doubted there was any serious damage. Scratches, probably. I got back on, pointed it back up the hill, and motored home. I left the bike in the tractor shed and limped into the house to check out the damage to my leg.
    I peeled off my helmet, jacket and boots in the kitchen and headed up to