by Chris Hechtl
“Oh …,” she dithered a bit and then picked her way along the shore with Bill and Jim in tow. “Hang on, gal, easy,” Jim cautioned. She's nervous about Bret coming; she fretted about his being hurt on the slopes around them. When he came down, her fears were confirmed. He was there. Her heart soared, but he was limping a little. He was also dragging a sledge with a pair of haunches on it.
Instead of taking the meat off the sled, he handed the entire thing over to Bill. Bill gave him the pack of gear silently. Hayden was worried about him. She looked him over frowning, then came over and grabbed the arm he had been favoring.
“What?” he demanded. He shook her arm off since she was pulling him off balance.
Bill shook his head. “Dude. Give it a rest man. She's worried about you. She's been worried about you.”
“I'm fine,” he growled. “Dummy me just tripped over a stupid root on the way down,” he grumbled.
She winced, hands going back. “I'm going with him,” she declared when he limped as he turned away. He turned to her in surprise. “You can't carry it all with your ankle like that. Are you sure it's not broken?”
“I'm fine. Sprain at best. I can put weight on it. I just need to get off of it. Sprain or twist.”
“Which takes longer to heal than a break,” Bill said with a shake of his head. “Do you want Doc to check?” he asked hesitantly.
Bret shook his head. “No thanks. I did this a week ago, and I was back to normal after a day. I'll be fine; I just aggravated it,” he said with a shrug.
Hayden came to a decision. “I'm still coming,” she said, hefting one of the two packs. She held the other. He looked at her. “This way, right?” she asked, pointing in the direction he had come from. He looked at the men as she passed him.
Bill was grinning. Jim shook his head. "Best go with it, man. She’s a firecracker. You know she'll get her way eventually.”
Bret shook his head and then snorted at Jim's amused expression.
“Oh, boss man asked how do we get the damn pin feathers out of the birds. We've got a mess of them. You've got some of the feathers in the pack there.”
“Pin feathers?”
Dwayne and the others caught some turkeys,” Jim said with a grin of pride.
“Cool,” Bret replied with a nod of acknowledgment over the achievement. “I trapped a chicken of all things,” he said. Jim's eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Rooster. If you catch a hen, let me know.”
Jim's eyes went even wider in surprise. “Really? You are keeping it alive?”
Bret nodded. “Yeah, feeding it grubs and stuff. He's a pain in the ass though.”
Bill snorted. “The perfect alarm clock.”
“No, but he does like to crow when something comes near,” Bret sighed.
“Funny. A guard chicken.”
“My aunt and uncle had guard geese. And believe it or not, a skunk.”
“Ewe.”
“The skunk was fixed and had its scent glands pulled,” Bret replied at their expressions. “But it had wicked claws and loved to dig and chew on stuff. Watch out for them. I think I saw one yesterday.”
“I so do not want to be sprayed,” Bill said with a shudder.
“Me neither. About the feathers?” Jim asked doggedly.
“Use a knife or scraper. Tweezers would work, but the knife is easier. Go against the grain. Like pulling a splinter out. Hot water helps,” Bret explained. “Like rubbing fur the wrong way. Same deal with the feathers. Think splinter.”
“Splinter. Got it,” Jim said with a nod.
“Are you coming?” the woman demanded from further up the trail. He turned slowly, still grappling with her sudden stubbornness. She had her hands on her hips. He shook his head hiding a smile. Jim patted him on the shoulder. She looked amazing he thought, but fought to keep it out of his expression.
“Just go with it man. You are outvoted, and hell, she's something else.”
“Whatever,” he sighed. He was too tired and sore to fight her. “I'll … we'll be back in two days, weather permitting,” he said over his shoulder to the departing men.
“Gotcha,” Jim said with a nod as he went to check the fish trap. “Thanks, man.”
Hayden led the way until she stopped at a T junction. She clearly had no idea where she was going. She turned in time to see him silently pass her and lead her on. He tried to hide the hobble but winced when he stepped down too hard on the bum ankle. He has to keep the weight off the damn ankle again.
He was quiet she thought, frowning. Did he even care that she was there with him? She wondered why she was letting her impulse take her but wanted to see where it would lead. She looked around as they slowed down, noting the area. Her momentary distraction allowed her to slip on some dew covered moss. After a while she put more effort into watching her footing. The hillside was thick with roots and was slick in some areas. Probably because of the rain she thought.
When they passed the first tree stumps from the trees he had felled, she blinked and whistled in appreciation. He looked back at her in curiosity and snorted but then kept trudging on. At his pace it was nearly an hour back to base camp.
They got back near noon, and he was clearly tired. She paused at the entrance to the clearing and stared about her in surprise and wonder. He'd done quite a bit, all on his own she thought. Quite a bit. There was what looked like a pit on one side. Rocks were piled nearby. There was a shovel, scrapers … he had improvised tools everywhere as well as a cluster of them in what had to be some sort of work shed. Some were broken and in the process of being mended. Others were experiments of some sort she judged. Trust Bret to have good tools.
Another pit was off to the left. A teepee he had mentioned was near the center of the clearing. Trees were piled around the perimeter. There were two ways in and out she realized. She heard some clucking and looked around. He caught her expression, noted the sound, and then pointed up into the branches. She looked up to see stuff hanging from the branches of the trees around the clearing.
He silently pointed to one nearby. She shaded her eyes and then saw something white dripping and winced. She looked at him in inquiry. “Rooster, like I said,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Really?” she asked after a moment. He nodded as he took a seat on a stool. She took in the sight of a pile of bird shit nearby. For some reason he was saving it and not burying it. She wrinkled her nose but didn't say anything.
There were racks everywhere; some had hides stretched out in the sun. Some were empty and clearly ready for use. He was planning ahead she thought with a nod of approval.
There were stakes along the outer perimeter of the teepee and other places, all stuck with their point facing out.
“Yeah,” Bret drawled, clearly tired and not quite willing to get up and move again. “I need to check his cage. The little bastard's quite the Houdini. He's gotten out on me once.”
“Oh,” Hayden murmured. She blinked as he hobbled over to the line and untied it from a lanyard and let the cage down. The cage was woven out of branches. "You've been busy,” she said in admiration and approval.
He snorted. “Lucky too. This guy fell in my hands. He came strutting into my camp like he owned the place,” Bret said. She watched as he took a clay bowl out of the cage, flicked out the poop, and then added grubs and greens. Another bowl had water.
“I see you've come up in the world,” she said amused as he added more grains and changed the water.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, not keeping the world safe from insects by eating grubs. You delegated it,” she teased, uncertain about how he would take it. He snorted. That answered that question she thought.
“I want to find a hen. More than one of course. I miss having omelets in the morning,” Bret said quietly.
She laughed a throaty laugh, startling him and the chicken. He looked at her, and she was smiling a genuine smile. “Ambitious,” she murmured with a wicked smile that tore r
ight through him. He nodded looking away. She noted he was still favoring that ankle, standing with most of his weight on his good leg.
“Get off that foot,” she said, nodding to his bum leg. “I'll take a look at it,” she said setting her packs down nearby. He snorted and put the cage back up into the air and then dropped his bag near a log and sat. He stirred the fire with a poker then tossed in some branches and dried moss to get it burning again.
“You've really been busy. What's that?” she asked as she knelt at his feet.
“What's what?” he asked, wrinkling his nose as she picked at his shoelace.
“That.” She pointed to the first pit.
“Oh,” he looked over to it. “It is the basement for the cabin,” he explained.
“Cabin?” She was shocked. He had gone that far?
“Yeah, um, a log cabin or hut. When I get around to building it,” he said with a diffident shrug.
“Oh.” She untied his boot shoe lace and helped him ease the boot off. She looked it over. “A little swollen,” she observed, “but I don't see a break.”
“Yeah,” he said, fighting the urge to suck in a pained breath at her cold but helping hands.
“What about the other pit?” she asked as she examined him. He winced as her cold hands massaged his abused flesh.
“Tttthat …,” he hissed as she hit a sore spot. She looked up. “That's where I started the cabin but ran into a bad rock so I stopped. The thing's too big to break or move so I gave up and started over. I'll do something with it sometime. Maybe use it as a foundation.”
“Oh.” She frowned thoughtfully.
“Maybe a barn or something someday,” he said.
“Oh.”
“I can't dig right now anyway. The rain flooded the basement. I've got to wait for it to dry a bit. I could work on the garden,” he mused, looking over to where he had it planned out.
“Well, you're not digging on this foot,” she warned him. She pulled a pack over and propped it up. “You need to elevate it and put some ice on it. Get the swelling down,” she said, hefting his foot up to prop it up on the pack.
“Okay, you're the nurse,” he said amused. She dimpled a little at his confused/amused look.
“So what's the pit going to be now?” she asked. “Or are you filling it in?”
“No, I thought about making it a midden or compost mound, but I've been using it as storage,” he admitted.
“Oh.” She pulled her pack apart and took out some dried meat. He looked at it and snorted. He pointed to the right. “Food in the bag there,” he said. “Smoked venison jerky,” he said.
She looked up and blinked.
“Here?” she asked touching a rope. She pulled on it but the indicated bag didn't move. “No … that's not right.” She found the right rope and let the load down. “Okay, dumb question but … why is all the stuff in the trees. Not that I'm complaining but ….”
“Bears, he said succulent.
“Oh.”
“Put it up like that and they can't get to it even if they climb the tree,” he said. “It's far enough out from the trunk and out of reach.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Okay, so how did you do all this?” she asked. “All in such a short time?” she said indicating the surrounding area.
He held up a knife in a sheath. She looked at it. He took it out, and she gasped at the sight of the wicked thing. “It's a bowie, a classic Rambo knife.”
“I saw first blood as a kid and had to have one. I've had this sucker since Christmas that year. I pestered my dad senseless to get it.” He grinned. “Mom was pissed when I unwrapped it.” He turned the pommel. “I love it. Compass, sharpening stone, and other stuff in the handle.”
“Swiss army knife,” she said.
“I got one of those too,” he said, fishing it out of his pocket and holding it up. It wasn't really a Swiss army knife; it was one of those big utility ones with a pair of pliers and other tools. She blinked and shook her head. “My, you are full of surprises,” she murmured in approval.
“I've got a few other odds and ends. A few things I got from the plane too,” he admitted. “Dad used to take me camping, I mean real camping—hunting, the works. All old school living off the land. Believe me, you learn the hard way,” he sighed ruefully, resting his back and trying to get his rump comfortable.
“I'm glad he did,” she said in approval as she worked.
“Too right,” he chuckled. He watched as she went through the food bag and started spitting food over the fire on the stakes he had carved and laid out for that purpose.
When the meat was hot, they ate in mutual silence. She cleaned up and then had him point out the various things around the perimeter he had done and what he planned to do next. She also cooked the remaining meat. It was more than what they needed, but that was fine. He showed her where the tubers and other vegetables he had found were and she cleaned them off and then cooked kabobs for dinner.
----------
That evening she climbed in bed with him. When he didn’t make a move, she was hurt. She nestled down beside him, thinking it was over before it had begun. She did her best to sleep, but it was difficult. When she heard a noise in the night, she was startled awake. She opened her eyes and saw his eyes in the darkness. He looked out the opening carefully. They heard the sound again. “Wind rustling something I think and hawk,” he murmured. “Maybe an owl,” he said softly.
“Are you sure?” she asked. He nodded. “Oh,” she said softly. She snuggled closer anyway. She felt his arm go instinctively around her. She pulled it close when he started to withdraw it. He looks down at her in surprise and then snorted softly. She snuggled up tighter to him. “Bret, don't you like me?” she asked as he closed his eyes and drank in her scent once more.
“Um … opposite, remember?” he asked carefully. “You on the other hand made your feelings clear the first day. I had the mark on my cheek to prove it, remember? And elsewhere,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Now I'm confused. Thoroughly confused. I guess I should get used to it. Women,” he said.
She sniffed. “Typical male,” she said as she poked him. She felt his chest rumble in a chuckle. She poked him again and then elbowed him. He chuckled again. “So I have to do everything?” she demanded, turning over to face him.
“Maybe,” he said with a snort and smile.
“Fine then. How is this?” she pushed him over onto his back and then climbed on top of him. She pinned him and then leaned down to thoroughly kiss him.
“Hey, promise not to hurt me?” he asked softly, looking up at her. She was an incredible sight he thought, just mesmerizing. She grinned in the dark. She felt something between her thighs and knew she was onto something. She wiggled a little, feeling her own body reacting. Her hands stroked his chest, then went back to pinning his arms again when he started to move.
“No, but I will promise it will be a good hurt,” she said huskily, giving him a hungry kiss. She nipped his neck and then suddenly he was into it. She purred in approval as his hands came alive. Coherent thought after that went out the window.
He was reluctant to go far though, so when both of them were ready, she pushed him onto his back once more and mounted him when he was hard. She rode him, enjoying his wandering hands. They were hard, callused but felt good on her soft skin just the same. When they were done, she collapsed in his arms, both a sweaty sated mess. He was a marvelous lover; she regretted her earlier impulse. It was worth the wait, but damn, she could have had him all along. She hugged him tightly.
She panted a bit, wiping her hair and the sweat from her brow as his hands caressed her. His own breathing wasn't quite steady yet either but getting there she judged. “Talk about a workout,” she sighed in contentment. He chuckled softly in the dark. They snuggled together in spoon fashion, tangling their arms and legs together as only lovers could. Eventually their breathing merged, and the two settled and drifted asleep.
They woke almost
in unison sometime after dawn. She stirred when she didn't feel his warmth near. She looked around, getting her bearings. Then she finally realized he was not in the tepee. She looked outside only to find that he was busy at the fire. She got up and came over with the blanket over her shoulders like a shawl. “Hey,” she said softly touching his shoulder. He looks up and smiles.
“Hey yourself sexy, cold?” he asked, touching her naked thighs. She nodded and shivered. He stood carefully and then stretched a bit. She shivered holding the blanket to herself tighter. She looked at it when a thought struck her. She realized after examining it that it was an animal skin. She blinked but then pulled it tight as the cold wind picked up.
“I gotta keep the fires going. I let the one in the teepee go out,” he grumbled. He stoked the fire with a stick, poking at it and then adding a bit more kindling. “It's a pain in the ass to get one started over again, trust me.”
“Okay,” she said softly. She knew how true that statement was. She thought she would’ve died of hypothermia that first night. It had taken the trooper hours and hours to get the fire lit.
“Hey, go pee. Bathroom over there,” he said pointing. “Put some sand in when you're done. It keeps the smell down and the flies away. Well, mostly away,” he said batting some in front of his face.
“Ah,” she said nodding. He was back to being practical again. Well, she could and would work with that.
He straightened, and she hesitated. Quietly he put his arms around her. She looked up, putting her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a lingering kiss. “There, is that better?” he asked.
She smiled, lighting his day. “Better. Much better. Don't you forget it,” she mock growled.
“Yes, ma'am,” he teased. She went to let go, but he held on and tickled her flanks. She twisted and writhed, laughing. She finally begged off to go pee. He finally relented after extracting another kiss for ransom. Once she was free, her lips puckered and she punched his arm and then got out of reach. He snapped a rag at her in passing. She stuck her tongue out at him but danced away with a frisky grin.
