“Okay, let me just pour us a couple of coffees,” I lift the bubbling pot of water from the woodstove with a gloved hand and fill two metal mugs. “I know it’s not Starbucks or whatever, but it’s caffeine,” I open the lid of the instant coffee and tap two fingers along the edge until the crystals swirl into the water and turn black.

“Thank you,” Abbie stops picking at her hair and smiles at me. She’s managed to make quite a mess of her locks from the tumble she took in the mud last night. She’s managed to get torn leaves and pine needles braided into her long hair. As she runs her hands over the mess with her face contorted in dismay, I can tell she’s not too happy about it.

“Hey, what flavor oatmeal do you want? I’ve got apple cinnamon or maple and brown sugar left,” I hold up the Quaker packets shaking them.

“Umm, whatever you want is fine,” she scrunches her nose and paws her long locks, distracted.

“Great,” I rip open the last of the maple and brown sugar and dump them in the remaining water, giving them a quick stir before I throw the lid on the pot. “Abbie, don’t worry about that, you’re gonna go cross-eyed trying to pick all that stuff out. We’ll get you fixed up after breakfast, I promise. First things first though, how’s your ankle?”

I walk over to where she’s sitting and kneel down at her feet, carefully lifting her foot.

“It’s, ahhh,” she breathes in sharp as I loosen the laces and open her boot wide to look inside, “still sore.” She does an unconvincing job of trying not to flinch.

“You did a number on it, that’s for sure.” I can see the bruising beginning to stain her creamy skin.

“I’ll be okay,” she puffs out her breasts and sits up straight, but I can see she’s not going to be putting real weight on this foot for at least a few days. Will we be safe here that long? Or am I sitting here with a bullseye on my back, risking my freedom and possibly my life for a woman I barely know.

“You will be, that’s true, but it’s going to take some time.” I just hope time is something we still have. I shake away the thought. Her partner probably went back into town anyway. I’m guessing he’ll be alerting the cops when he does. That is, if he can find his way back. After following them yesterday, I have my doubts. I can’t risk carrying her into town right now, not if there’s a posse of officers trying to track me down. We have no choice but to wait until she can hike. Then I can lead her a little way and send her in the right direction on her own. In the meantime, I’ve gotta hope that fucking P.I. doesn’t get the law swarming in on me. And if they do start nosing around, hopefully the way I set this place up will make me hard to find. I look at Abbie, she’s watching the thoughts flit over my face. I need to stop worrying about this shit. I’ll deal with whatever happens.

“I made something for you,” I stand up and make my way outside, picking up the branch I’ve been transforming for her.

Abbie twists her head to watch me, “What is it?”

The bells I attached to the top jingle like an old ice cream truck as I hand it over to her. “It’s a walking stick, I made it while you were sleeping.” She takes it from my hands.

“Thank you,” she looks at it like I just gave her the keys to a new car. There’s something so refreshing about the wonder in her face. I watch her green eyes twinkle and try to remember the last time I saw the magic in anything. When was the last time I let the world amaze me? It’s easy to tell myself that I haven’t had time, not when I’m out here trying to survive. However, I know that lustre wore off years before any of this became my life.

“No problem. It should help you keep your weight off your ankle until it heals up better. Once you’re swelling goes down we can figure out a plan to get you out of here. Right now, we’ll have to lay low and wait it out. Trust me, I know it’s not ideal, but you’re in no shape to make that kind of hike.”

“I understand. I’m not in a big hurry to get back and run into Cecil again anyway. I’m not even sure how I’m going to get back home. He has my plane ticket and he hasn’t paid me yet, so I’m kinda stuck.” She runs her slender fingers over the stick where I peeled the bark off in a spiral design. Her face transforms in awe.

“You decorated it for me?” She meets my eyes and I’m frozen in place. The way her plump, pink lips are slightly parted makes me want to run my thumb over them before marking them with my kiss.

Shrugging, I look back to the pot of oatmeal, “I had time to kill,” I lie. There were other things I could’ve spent that time on other than making her a pretty cane, but I couldn’t help myself. I guess someone as beautiful as her inspires beauty in everything.

“Ready to eat?” I don’t wait for her to respond, with the way she’s looking at me right now I need the distraction. It’s not my job to notice her lips or think about all the ways I want to enjoy them. It’s my job to keep her safe for a few days and then get her back. That’s it. I stand up and begin portioning the sweet smelling breakfast into a couple of bowls.

“Why did you put bells on it?” Abbie shakes the stick and fills the air with the twinkling sound.

“For bears,” I answer simply and hand her the bowl with a spoon.

“Bears?” She looks out the window like she expects a grizzly bear to wave at her from outside.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. They don’t want any more to do with you than you do with them,” I grab my own bowl and drop it on the table, realizing I have no place to sit. Quickly, I go back outside and grab the big stump I use to cut my firewood on and heave it up, carrying it back in. With a thud, I drop it on the floor at the other side of the table and dig into my cooling breakfast. “Those bells give any animals in the area a heads up that you’re around,” I explain as I eat. “That way you don’t end up between a cub and its mom,” I empty my bowl in a couple of bites. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I took the first taste.

I watch as Abbie slowly eats her breakfast. I let my gaze travel over her supple skin, down over her perky tits and slide down between her legs. My cock aches with a deep desire I didn’t realize I was fighting. Just like my breakfast, I didn’t know how starved I was until the temptation was there.

And just like my breakfast, I want to eat her all up.

I stand up abruptly and start gathering the dishes. You’d think it was the most complicated job in the world with how much forced focus I’m putting into it.

“Oh, let me do that,” Abbie protests from behind me.

“No, stay put and eat. I’ve got it. I’m gonna get this stuff tidied up and then I’ll help you get cleaned up. Normally, I just sponge bathe with a cloth and a pot of water, but when I get as dirty as you are I’ve got a place I go clean up. I’ll take you so you can wash your hair,” I keep my back turned to her. Until I get my appetite under control, it’s the safest option.

“Really? Thank you!” Her voice is as musical as the bells I attached to the top of her walking stick.

“No worries,” I turn and let myself watch her. My hardened features soften as I soak her in. It hits me, that sense of wonder that I thought I lost, the one that has been buried under years of boredom and cynicism has returned. I can feel it stir from its deep slumber when I look at her.