By J. L. Burrows
*Originally published in Clean Fiction Magazine Winter Edition 2023
Through the window I saw a large man stepping out of the ice-capped pines and trudging up the undisturbed snowy walkway to my cabin. Each footprint was a black indent instantly filled with shadows. The winding brook I’d emptied my babbling heart out to over many days, the place my words finally returned, was now snaking along at his side. The traitor. These were my picturesque woods. My slice of peace, my Fortress of solitude.
He exhaled a crystalized puff that drifted lazily away. Leaning back, he stopped and studied his surroundings, seeming to think twice about his approach.
You got that right buddy. Turn that whole kit and kaboodle around, and reckon your way right out of these here parts!
No idea why a country western accent was suddenly taking over my mind, but when the shoe fit and all.
“Not again, Lacey!” I closed my eyes and wished the tall, dark, and handsome away from my Kincade cottage. Men only bungled things up.
Exasperated, I flung my arms into the air having a silent war with my heart. They should have named the cottage: Romantic Mystery Hunter Haven.
That name wouldn’t stick. I was a writer. Am! I can do better.
“Go write in a cabin in the woods! They said. Find peace. They said. You’ll have your next book finished in no time. They said.” I huffed and glanced back out the window. The sun’s low rays danced across ice crystals that traced delicate doily patterns on the edges of the glass and painted the whole evening in purity and stillness.
His built frame suddenly filled my window. Little ice crystals had formed on his collar and beard. As quickly as he’d filled the window frame, he was gone again. His boots thudded with purpose toward my door. My door!
“Hello,” he called after a surprisingly gentle knock.
“I don’t open the door for strange men.” I carefully checked the lock and silently pressed my back against the door. My twenty two was cold and heavy in my hand. The situation was unnerving at best, my heart rate accelerating out of control. But everything in life was fodder for the next story. Could this be its beginning?
When his footsteps clomped over to the window again, I followed him both as the writer trailing the story carrying her mind away and as the single woman feeling brave, at least with a wall between her and wood man Joe out there. I caught a glance of him, shoulders slumped, peering in at me with two hands cupping the cold pane of my window.
I gasped and flung myself behind the bookshelf.
“Listen, we’ve got a situation–” He stopped to peer over his shoulder. “Would you let me use your phone?”
My heart squeezed, but I promptly dismissed it. Firstly, there was nothing smart about letting a strange man into the cabin you’re renting, and secondly, his voice held an air of command. Conclusion: this man was one used to being obeyed.
Still, my conclusion didn’t settle well with me. Something about him made me want to listen, to obey, to follow him wherever he led. . But I wasn’t about to fall for another pine-scented woodsman. Not this time, not ever again.
He knocked on the window. “Can you hear me through this thing? Time is short!”
He pulled his hands from the glass, rubbed them together, clearing his throat. “It’s not safe. I need to, in fact, you need to get away from this cabin. There are these guys out here. These woods aren’t safe–”
Two gunshots rang out as if to punctuate his declaration. In the few moments that had passed, the evening’s sunset sky ran deep with blood red and fiery oranges seeming to glisten as the backdrop to the gunfire.
He clenched a fist and rested it against the window pane.
“Don’t you dare!”
“You can’t stay in there. It isn’t safe.”
“Weren’t you just trying to get in here? It certainly doesn’t sound safe out there!” I rubbed my twenty two in my pocket gleaning a bit of strength in fire power.
“That was before–”
“Oh! You can’t be serious–”
“Look lady. We need to get out of here. They’re coming this way.” He glanced over his shoulder again, and my gaze followed.
Two burly men stepped out of the woods, one holding a long gun.
The guy slammed both hands into the window with such force I was convinced they’d crack. “Fine!”
He started to back away around my house.
I have to do something. Right? I can’t just stand here and wait for these two to come attack the cabin. They certainly don’t look like they’re coming to see if I want to buy grandma’s cookies. I needed to do something. I needed to call him back. “Wait! Come back.”
With no idea what I was doing, I ran to the door and froze.
“You have to open the door right now!” His voice brokered no argument.
I flung the door wide and in almost slow motion it thudded against the wall. My gaze drifted to my hand. What was I doing?
“Look, I don’t have time to explain.”
I finally saw him. Like really looked up and took in his sparkling blue eyes. “What‘s going on?”
“You’re going to have to leave with me right now.”
“What? You wanted to come in here and now we need to leave.” I studied him as he moved through my rental cabin’s space. His movements were calculated, precise.
“Who are you?”
“Do you have a weapon?”
I nodded and pointed at my dad’s old shotgun sitting on the mantle. “You can see I do. Do you have a name?”
“Jack. Anything bette–”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“Ammo?”
I moved to the closet and pulled out a mostly empty box, shaking it for him. “This is all I have left. My name’s Lacey, not that you asked.”
“Okay. Hopefully, we won’t need it.”
“What do you mean? My name?”
“The ammo.”
“Hopefully doesn’t sound too reassuring.” Something dark and furious writhed deep in my gut.
“We’re going to make it through this. If you follow me–”
“I’m not leaving the cabin.”
“Lady. You don’t have a choice.”
“The name’s Lacey.”
He huffed, throwing her dad’s gun over his shoulder. “Lacey. You don’t have a choice. You’re going to need to follow my instructions.” He glanced at the window where the men were charging toward the house guns rocking in their grip.
“Are they coming here?”
“Are they coming here?” He mumbled under his breath, shaking his head. “Yes, we need to move. Is there a back door?”
I grabbed my coat and was reaching for my laptop when he grabbed my arm and yanked me down the hall.
“This way?”
I ripped from his grip. “I’m not leaving without my laptop. I’m an author.”
He grunted. “Hope it’s a book worth dying for.”
They flew out the back door. Raced down the mountain.
Were the two men following? How close were they? Would they catch up to us if we paused for a breath. My heart leaped as I stumbled onto the main road. We’d traveled a mile in what felt like seconds. Civilization climbed along the edge of the road.
“We haven’t put much distance between us, but this is a lot better than a remote cabin in the mountains.” Something settled in his features, and my skin seemed to spark with bits of fire as his gaze swept over me.
“Either way, I’m grateful you were there when you were.” Without his protection, I couldn’t even imagine where I”d be right now.
“Look,” he turned and gripped her by both shoulders. “You can’t go back to your cabin.”
“Wait. Never?”
“No. Never. What are you a city girl? Some author come to the mountains to find the next American novel. This area here is run by a vicious group. You can’t imagine the kinds of people that’ll be coming out of that area.
“But it’s such a beautiful area.”
“Beauty A. is in the high eye of the beholder and B. can be quite deceptive.”
I nodded. All true. “I have to get my stuff some time.”
“Just don’t go back.Let the rental company ship your stuff to you.”
“Okay. If it means–”
He started to turn away from her.
“Wait! You can’t just leave me like this.”
“Listen. There’s nothing else for me to do. You’re out of there. I’m out of there. I need to go do my business. You need to go to your business.” Jack shrugged.
“I guess but it just feels like . . . like an unfinished story.”
He chuckled. Isn’t everything a little bit of an unfinished story? Maybe we’ll meet again, sometime soon. You’re the writer. Write a good ending to this.” With that he turned, walked through a nearby yard, and was gone.