“For now. I am a sad and empty girl. I loved the world more than anything, and then the world took away everything that meant anything to me. I hate it now, and if I died tomorrow in a gunfight, who would remember me? No one, and that’s just fine with me.”
“I’d remember you for the rest of my life,” I said, my voice choked with emotion.
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to be practical.”
“Damn your practical. I’m happy to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.” I stood up and went to her, took her hands in mine. They were slim and cold, and I felt the edges of the hard calluses on the sides. Drawing her up to me, I hugged her tightly.
“Got one,” she yelled and slipped away. She grabbed the pole with the bobber that had been tugged underwater, hauling out a hard-looking little fish that resembled a catfish. After pulling it up, she ran her hand along the head to hold down the fin, then she took the hook out of its mouth and put it in the bucket.
I smiled at the thing as it swam in circles looking for a way out. We had dug out some worms and grubs and put them in the empty breadbox, so we would have a fresh supply ready all day. The hook went back in the water, and she took a seat to watch the poles. That was how we spent our first day together.
It was coming up on the hottest part of the day when she stripped off her shirt and tossed her panties at me. I hung them on the back of my chair and marveled at her body in the daylight. She stepped into the water, having moved the fishing poles aside, hooks removed and stuck in a branch so we could find them easily.
I shrugged out of my tank top and let my pants join hers. I followed her, and when my feet hit the water, I gasped. It was hot out, but this was very cold water. She flashed a smile at me then moved deeper, so the calm surface came up to her knees.
“Come on and catch me.” Some of the tension went out of her, and I followed. She dashed one way as I closed in, and then the other way when I reached for her. She stepped back, and I moved after her. Her eyes gleamed in the fading light, and I felt a rush of emotion for her once again that was hard to explain. The analytical side of me understood that I had a need to protect her, to watch out for her even though I had seen that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
I sank to my ass and felt my pride shrivel up between my legs. She splashed water at me and I splashed back. A pair of birds flitted across the surface of the water behind her, then fled to the trees. I wished I had a way to catch them.
Her nipples were hard as little rocks when I caught her and pulled her close. We kissed, and I held her to me so she couldn’t get away. The water settled around us, and I thought about making love to her right there, but suspected it was too cold to try, though things below hinted that I was up for the challenge.
“You caught me. Now what are you going to do with me?” She smirked.
“I guess you’re mine now. I think I get to do whatever I like. I mean, as long as you, you know, want me to,” I finished lamely.
“That stuff I told you about was a long time ago, Erik. I trust you.”
“I’m glad.”
I stared past her at the far shore, because I thought I had seen movement. A shape that was vaguely manlike moved into the woods, but maybe it was just an animal. I stared for a long time, and she turned in my arms to follow my gaze.
“What is it?”
“I thought I saw something. Probably a deer.”
“Hmm, let’s go inside where the animals won’t see the things I am about to do to you,” she purred.
“Wait a minute. I get to do what I want.”
“Right. Same thing.”
Shadows moved across the wall after I lit candles in the dark. There were a few of them left, and I felt like it was the right thing to do—a romantic gesture. She stretched on the bed as I moved around the room with the lighter.
Earlier we had hauled in some of the fish, changed the water on the others, and then split them and fried them in a bit of olive oil I had saved. There were spices in the cabinets, things that had expired, but they tasted fine to me. Salt and pepper with a dash of powdered garlic that was so old it was turning white. The fish were delicious, and we ate a couple of them. We boiled beans and ate them with the fish, and when we were done, I soaked the pan in some water and took her back to bed.
We lay together again as I tried to find sleep. Her hand was draped across my waist this time, and every once in a while she would flinch, like she was nodding off. I wanted to sleep, but my mind was on all the things that had happened. Spring was on the way, and I was pretty sure we would be able to live on the stuff we caught here. Hunting would turn up some deer, and we would have meat, but we wouldn’t have any produce—no vegetables or fruit. We had some powdered milk, but not a lot, and the calcium would be sorely missed.
Unless we could find some fruit, I worried about us getting scurvy, the way sailors used to when they were at sea for lengths of time. Lack of vitamin C might be worse than lack of anything else.
I started to drift off as well, but something drew my eye to the window. The moon made the outside world murky at best, but the lack of outside light meant there was nothing to reflect off the glass in the cabin, so I had a good view out the window directly across from us. We could have constructed some sort of curtains, but there was no need for privacy out in the middle of nowhere.
Shadows drifted—diffuse shapes that eluded trees and ringed the cabin like silent sentinels. My eyes were drawn to a copse far away. I could just make it out in the dim light, and I could also make out a shape that I thought had green eyes, which stared into my own. I gasped and sat up in bed, clenched my eyes together then stared again, but the shape was gone.
“It was probably a deer plotting to set a trap for you,” Katherine said the next morning.
We were enjoying breakfast, such as it was. She was sitting across from me, having woken earlier and made coffee and some flat but tasty pancakes. We didn’t have anything to make the things rise, and she used some Cheerios, ground up, to make the mess stick together before baking them in the oven. The coffee was strong, and I enjoyed several cups.
She wore one of my shirts again, and it looked a hell of a lot better on her than on me. Long legs flashed every time she moved around the room, and she wore the top unbuttoned low. She looked rested for the first time, like she had really slept last night. I imagined it was hard to leave the life she had led over the past five or so months and move in with me. All the familiar sights and sounds – just gone.
She cracked the windows so a breeze rolled through the cabin and out the open door. I thought of the shape I had seen the night before, but discounted it as not being real. We were too secluded to attract one of those things.
Then again, why hadn’t I ran some sort of snares or alarms? Bottles hanging from twine might be just the thing to give me a heads up. I would have to scour the cabin for stuff to use. There are probably enough bottles left over from the preserves to make something. The biggest problem would be covering the entire area around the cabin. If I did it, I would have to be careful where I placed everything.
I tossed the rest of my coffee back, wandered to the back window, and stood there for some time. The trees made it hard to see far, so I crouched down to the level where I’d been when I saw the figure and stared for a long time. I found the copse and watched it. Birds flitted from tree to tree, and I heard the unmistakable call of a hawk as it soared somewhere over the woods. It was green, pastoral, and I felt at ease once again. The sense of normalcy, the comfort of having Katherine with me, sank in, and I smiled at my imagined apparition, then went to join her in the other room. The smell was all Pacific Northwest. Trees and fresh dirt. Moisture in the air. Everything just as normal as it should be.