Everleigh…

Ka’chack! Ka’chack! Ka’chack!

Each sound came in rapid succession. It wasn’t exactly the sounds I’d expected to wake up to, but honestly, it could only be one thing. I got to my feet, and assured, the day before that the boards in the cabin and on the porch held no loose nails and were all worn to a satiny finish, padded barefoot to the back door. I stepped out into the morning sunlight streaming through the portals left between the roof supports on the porch to see Whi – Narcos on the other side, as if floating in midair, stapling screen to the very same supports.

Ka’chack! Ka’chack! Ka’chack!

“Morning,” he grunted, and climbed down the ladder to move it over.

I leaned out one of the areas yet to be screened and waved down to him. He chuckled and moved the ladder, climbing back up. He reached for the roll of screen, which he’d rested inside the closed-off porch rail, and I helped as much as I could.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

I let go and stood back while he stapled it first along the support, then along the rail, then along the top and finally along the next support, closing the back portion of the wrap-around in.

I smiled. I was excited. With this done so swiftly, as soon as he went to town I could leap on phase two of my little master plan.

Ka’chack! Ka’chack! Ka’chack!

Ka’chack! Ka’chack! Ka’chack!

“Mind getting me one of those gallons of water?” he asked and I jumped a little, coming out of my daydream, and nodded rapidly. I went into the cabin and retrieved a big quart Mason jar from the cupboard above the sink. I poured it to the rim and took it out to him. He downed half of it in three or four large swallows and handed it back.

“Thanks, if you could hang on to that for me and give it back when I need it, that would be helpful.”

I nodded, and just kind of stood around while he completed the last half of the back porch. He had me hand him the water at the corner and polished off the glass. I kind of shook it back and forth to ask if he needed a refill. He wiped the excess from his beard and mustache and shook his head.

“No, thanks, I’m almost to the bank here. I’ll come around the front, here, and get the screen door from the garage and hang it at the end of the walkway. This went a lot faster and easier than I thought it would. I wish I’d done it a while ago.”

I smiled and made a motion of eating and he nodded.

“Some of those muffins would be great.”

I went around and back inside and fetched them and my own glass of water. We sat on the porch in the shade of some trees along the side of the little cabin. He put his back against the wood between the railing supports, and I put my back against the cabin itself, the jug of water and plate of muffins between us. I munched happily as he considered me, and finally he said, “All it took to make you happy was putting some screen up, like really, that was it. That’s kind of amazing.”

I shrugged. Not really, not if he hadn’t wanted to do it. I think that’s why a lot of relationships had a tendency to fall apart ‒ couples not really listening to the intent or meaning behind little requests. Then again, we weren’t a couple, and, frankly, never would be. I mean, how we could be, after he’d nailed me to a tree, was a little beyond me. Was he attractive? Sure, I’d always found him attractive but I’d also thought King was handsome and look at what he had done… he was supposed to love me and he had given the order.

I smoothed my hands over my skirt, my palms suddenly sweaty, the wounds in my hands aching, though I couldn’t tell if it was from my train of thought encouraging them or if they were legitimately hurting at the moment.

“They hurt?” he asked, eyeing my hands.

I waffled one of them back and forth some and he caught my eye with his.

“May I?” He held out a hand, palm up, and I tucked my hands in my lap, shaking my head. He sighed, a heavy disappointed sound with the weight of the world in it, and nodded.

“I get it,” he said shortly, and drained his water jar. He stood up and threw a leg over the railing, climbing back onto the ladder.

I didn’t know why, but I felt… bad… for hurting his feelings. Which was crazy, considering he was the one who nailed me to a tree a little more than a week or so ago. Maybe two? I didn’t know. The days had begun to blur together at the hotel, the walls closing in on me.

I liked it much better here.

Here I could breathe, there were trees and sunlight. The sound of the river was soothing, and the knowledge that nobody knew where I was or could find me was the most comforting thing of all.

I got up and cleared the dishes. I couldn’t wait for a hot shower. He’d said ‘tomorrow’, but if I had to, I would clean myself up camping-style and rinse off the worst of the sweat and dirt in the cold river. It would be nice to at least have soap, but I don’t think he’d bought any.

I figured I’d better start a list for when he went back into town. I couldn’t expect him to think of everything, could I? Just the thought of writing anything down made me nervous, but I bucked up and made the list.

Just as I finished, I realized there was no more sound of the staple gun biting into the wood, and to be honest, I was glad it was staples and not hammer-and-nails. I shuddered at the thought.

“Hey.”

I jumped.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m going to get to work on the truck, try not to wander too far, okay?”

I nodded and he ducked back out the back door, which I had left standing open since the porch was screened in. He went out the screen door at the end of the porch and clattered down the stairs and I felt my tense muscles ease with his absence.

I shook my head to clear it and picked up my apple crate with its candle fixings and went out onto the porch. I plucked up my courage and followed him down the stairs, setting it on the old metal desk full of tools, odds, and ends in the garage.

“Need help?” he asked.

I shook my head no, and picked up an old metal pail by its wire handle to go look for some plant life goodies nearby.