Nora
Sunlight peeks through the slats and boards of the room. A rooster crows. I pull the blankets up over my head and will myself to go back to sleep. The smell of bacon cooking motivates me to get up. I remove my elastic and finger comb my hair back into a neat ponytail before I stand. I use two baby wipes to freshen up and slip on clothes before brushing my teeth. When I open the door, I’m taken with the landscape before me. The trees are thick, green and abundant. The sky a dazzling blue and cloudless. Sunshine pours over everything. It’s gorgeous. There is nothing but nature for miles and miles. With a smile, I open the door to the cabin.
“Morning, Nora,” Holden says. His voice is deep and he draws my name out, again in that way I’ve never heard before.
“Morning.”
“Nora,” Lotte calls and runs to me. She throws her arms around my hips and squeezes. It takes me a moment to warm up, but I do. “Good morning, Lotte.”
“Let the woman breathe,” Holden says. His chuckle fills up the space around us. Lotte releases me and takes a seat at the table. I follow her lead. Holden brings over two plates piled with bacon, eggs and toast before carrying his own plate over.
“Eat up. You’ll need it,” he says.
“Lotte.” She looks to me and waits. “Would you show me around today?”
She stuffs a fork full of eggs into her mouth and nods enthusiastically.
“Lotte, you behave with Nora. Chores first and then you can explore a little.”
Holden’s voice is stern when he speaks to her. It’s clear he’s protective of her. She nods at him and continues devouring her breakfast. Holden lifts his chin toward the woodstove, which is also the cooking stove. “Coffee’s ready, if you want some.” I nearly groan with pleasure at the mention of coffee. While I fix my mug, Holden scrapes his fork against his plate with each bite. The sound is jarring in the quiet room.
“Oh. Meant to mention,” he says, standing to clear his plate. “If you hear gunshots later on, it’s just those trespassing hunters who keep coming ‘round.” He puts his plate in the sink.
“Is it safe to explore? Do I need an orange hat or something?”
Explosive laughter rips from him. He clutches at his midsection. I look to Lotte but she stares at her plate, finishing off the last of her breakfast. I’ve barely even had time to start mine and they are both finished. As if it were a race to eat. As if the food might run out.
“You’re safe here. Lotte won’t take you anywhere you shouldn’t go. Right. Lotte?”
She stands, holding her plate expressionlessly. “Yeah.”
My shoulders slump at the morning routine as I eat. Lotte leaves me to get started on feeding the animals since I’m so slow.
When I step onto the porch, Holden is fifty yards away, swinging a hammer, driving nails into a board. I step off the porch and he looks up, flips his hammer and tips his hat at me. I stifle the giggle that wants to erupt from my throat. I’ve never had a hat tipped at me before, nor have I seen someone wield a hammer the way he just did. Extending his right arm out straight, he points me in the direction of Lotte. I watch him a moment longer. He doesn’t look like the guys at home. He’s sinewy and graceful, like a mountain lion. Feral looking or maybe just unhindered by the norms of city society. His forearms bulge with every swing of the hammer. He isn’t your typical go-to-image of hotness but there is definitely something hot about him. I look away and head in the direction he offered.
I sneak up on Lotte. “How can I help?” I ask.
Lotte holds the apron of her skirt so it makes a pouch. It’s full of grain. She grabs handfuls and tosses it out around the chicken coop. “I’m almost done,” she says.
“Wow, you’re fast.”
She doesn’t stop her work. “Holden likes fast.”
I look at her while she finishes up. “What do you do for fun?” Her hair is wild but pretty. Her garb old fashioned but functional here on the farm. But dark circles tarnish what would otherwise be bright eyes.
Lotte doesn’t look at me but shrugs. When the last of the grain is gone, she drops her apron and wipes her hands off on it.
“You must know some cool places,” I say.
“There’s a creek we can swim in. Sometimes there are frogs, too. Ev-” Lotte freezes with tears in her eyes. I don’t know why Eve is such a touchy subject but it clearly sets Lotte off.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry she left you. It’s obvious you really loved her.”
A shot rings out. It echoes off the land around us. It startles me. Lotte sniffs and uses the backs of her hands to wipe at her eyes before pulling herself together. She reaches out and grabs my hand.
She forces a smile. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
When we pass back around the house, Holden is gone.
Weeks one and two span on the same every day. Wake early, rush through breakfast, chores, then Lotte time. Lunch was more relaxed and dinner was quiet—everyone too tired to do much more than eat. Lotte’s chores stunned me. She was responsible for a lot daily. Much more than I had ever been responsible for daily at her age. Occasionally, Holden lets me help with meals or some light housekeeping but mostly I am treated like a guest. Sometimes we talk, mostly we don’t. Holden is strong and silent. He is warm when needed but also appears far away at times.
The nightly time we spend together grows more familiar and easy and comfortable. At night, after reading Lotte to sleep, I’d have a mug of tea with Holden. Then I would retreat to my room and read for a while. Holden gave me a book on plants and how to identify them. I teach Lotte what is edible and what’s not. It’s nice to feel so needed. Teaching Lotte is easy. She is curious by nature. Beyond working on her reading, in the afternoons, we work on math and writing. While we explore the woods, I teach her what I know about animals and plants and survival. She loves that I was a Girl Scout when I was her age and seems to devour anything I share with her. At bedtime, she gloms onto me. Snuggling against my side. Toying with my necklace as I read to her.
There are chickens in the yard. Foxes and fisher cats and wild pigs and bears meander through the woods around us. Holden always keeps a gun near, just in case. He said just last month a fox got a couple of their chickens.
Owls hoot in the early dawn. It’s eerie and wakes me sometimes. We eat eggs, milk, rice, beans; Lotte and I pick fresh veggies and Holden deals with all the game meat. He is a great cook. A great survivalist.
“Holden?” I call out from the porch. It’s silent a beat and then I hear the sound of his boots coming.
“You called?” His grin is infectious and I can’t help but smile in return.
“I did. I can’t find any shampoo.”
“You checked under the kitchen sink?” he scratches his head.
I nod. “Guess it’s time to make a trip into town. It’s too late to go today. Lotte doesn’t like being alone after dark. Can it wait until tomorrow?”
“Of course,” I answer. Lotte will have to take me to the creek again so I can bathe and wash my hair. The baby wipes aren’t really cutting it anymore. My scalp hurts from having my hair tied up in a ponytail for fourteen days. Holden wipes his hands on his jeans and brushes his ear against his shoulder.
“We should get dinner going.”
“I’ll let Lotte know,” I say. He watches me as I walk into my room. I can feel his eyes on me. My cheeks flush as I wonder if he likes what he sees.
I flop on my bed, indulging in the few moments I have to relax before the dinner rush begins. Out of habit, I reach out for my parents picture. My hand slaps around on the nightstand hitting nothing. I sit up. The picture is gone. I pull the table away from the wall and check the floor around it. I search through my stack of books. Under the bed. Panic sets in.
I storm from my room into the cabin.
“Have you seen the photo from my nightstand?” I ask. Holden stiffens and Lotte’s eye bulge but she stays still as a board.
“Lotte, if you took it, it’s okay. I don’t mind you looking at my things but you can’t take them.”
“I didn’t,” she says. Her eyes dart to Holden, then me. Back and forth.
I swing my gaze to Holden. “Holden?”
He pulls his head backward in an offended motion. “Why would I take a picture? It probably just fell off the table.”
“I checked the floor and under the bed. It’s gone.” Tears well in my eyes.
“It’s just a picture, Nora,” he says.
“It’s one of the only ones I have of my parents.” I feel like a little girl, petulant and ridiculous under the weight of Holden’s domineering expression. Holden reaches out for me. Some flicker of intuition tells me that I am not ready to feel his touch and I shy away. Cross my arms over my chest.
His eyes turn stormy. He spins to face Lotte. “Give it back,” he demands. She shakes under the weight of his stare. “Did you hear? Give it back, Lotte.” Tears well in her eyes and I feel the need to protect her.
“Stop it, Holden. You’re scaring her.”
“Excuse me?” he says, swinging his eyes to mine.
“Lotte, would you help me look for it again?” She nods rapidly and walks to my side. “Is that okay, Holden?”
He grunts something about preparing dinner in a few minutes but nods. Lotte and I walk briskly to my room.
I kneel on the floor and take her shoulders in my hands. “Please, if you have it, just tell me,” I whisper. She bites her bottom lip and looks genuinely upset.
“I didn’t take it. Things go missing around here. Holden says it happens.”
I try to make sense of her explanation. “Lotte. You know lying is wrong, don’t you?”
“I’m not lying,” she hisses. “Things go missing here. Just . . . just ignore it. You have to look around.”
“To find it?”
“No, right now,” she whispers. “If we don’t look, he will think we lied to him.”
I stare at her and shake my head. I feel like she suddenly isn’t speaking English anymore. She unstacks my books, then sweeps her hand under the bed and restacks them. She looks under the dresser and under the other side of the bed as well. All while I stand dumbfounded, watching her.
“It’s not here.”
“I know,” I say.
“It’s time to make dinner.”
Still standing in my room, I watch Lotte walk out of my room.
What just happened?