After another few hours of watering the fields, Cammie and Ginger drank some awful iced wine, cleaned the house, made fruitless attempts to teach Jacques to sit, had dinner, and went to bed while the sun was still high in the sky. Cammie’s last coherent thought as she passed out was, I hope I find my inner farmer soon. And I hope she’s a morning person. Five hours later, she awoke as Kat climbed into the queen-size bed. “Hey,” Kat said directly into her ear. “Are you awake?” “It’s the middle of night!” Cammie mumbled. “No, it’s not. It’s barely ten o’clock. Why are you guys asleep?” “Go away.” “Move over.” Kat shoved Cammie out of the center of the mattress. Cammie kicked in Kat’s general direction. “When did you get home? Why aren’t you in your room?” “Move over and I’ll tell you.”
