Moonsong (6 page)

So when Adele and Scarlett went into town for the afternoon and Chase disappeared on one of his many errands, taking his shiny red Camaro with him, Millie decided it was as good a time as any to explore the woods behind the house.

It wasn’t nighttime, in fact, it was a perfectly cheery Autumn day, so Chase couldn’t read her the riot act for venturing into the woods. Slipping on her sturdy new pair of hiking boots, Millie set off at a moderate pace, without much of a goal in mind except to see what there was to see.

There was birdsong aplenty overhead, and the scurrying sounds of little feet told her the woods were positively teeming with wildlife. She explored for about an hour before deciding to stop for lunch; picking a peaceful clearing with a large, fallen log she could rest on.

Busy eating, she didn’t notice anything was amiss right away. It was the sudden silence that tipped her off at first. Millie froze; the back of her neck tingling. It was like she’d stepped into a vacuum of sound, even the breeze stilled. For long seconds she sat there, afraid to so much as chew, until she decided she was being an idiot. She’d all but decided her imagination was to blame when she heard the growl.

Heart pounding at the unfriendly sound, her eyes darted around, unsure what kind of animal made the threatening noise. With coiled menace, a mountain lion emerged slowly from the brush, its eyes boring into her with a baleful stare. Never having seen such an animal up close and personal, Millie was struck by the size of the thing. The paws were larger than a grown man’s hands, with lethal claws sinking into the leaf covered earth.

“Nice kitty…” It was just a big cat, right? Millie talked to cats like that all the time. Though to be fair, none had ever looked like it wanted to rip her head off the way the cat stared at her now. “Are you hungry? I’ve got some chicken here… you can have all you want, okay?” She tossed the chicken leg towards the lion at a trajectory she hoped would lead it away from her. The cat tracked the motion, but didn’t change its stance, its eyes returning to her after a brief sniff in the direction of the chicken.

“No chicken, huh? How about… a nice piece of cheese? Does that sound yummy?” Had she just asked a mountain lion if it thought cheese was yummy? With shaking hands, Amelia unwrapped a little round cheese from its wax wrapper and tossed it closer to the animal. The big cat took a step closer to the offering this time and sniffed it, deciding the cheese was acceptable and gobbled it up in one bite.

“Oh good, you like cheese. I uh, I only have one more though… but you’re welcome to it.” She hastily unwrapped the other cheese disc and lobbed it at the cat, who snatched it up out of the air with surprising speed, swallowing it whole.

“That’s all I have, no more.” Amelia held her hands wide like she would with her own cat. Normally she’d get a sniff and he’d move on, but she wasn’t about to let this animal get that close. “Go on home now, kitty, I don’t have anything for you.”

The mountain lion let out a yowl that made her jump. What was she supposed to do? Trying a different tack, she made her voice deep and authoritative. “You shoo now, kitty, go home!” she commanded, pointing off into the woods.

The cat yowled again and took a step closer, teeth bared.

“Shit!” Amelia hissed, stumbling over the back of the log to try and put a barrier between them.

The great cat coiled its body low to the ground as if it was about to spring, hips shifting from side to side. Amelia let loose a scream as the animal launched itself into the air, claws extended. Hastily throwing her arms up over her face to protect herself, she huddled in a ball, bracing herself for the blow that never came.

Instead another growl sounded, and Amelia opened her eyes in time to see the mountain lion crash to the ground in a blur as something tackled it from the side. Scrambling to the edge of the clearing, Millie was stunned to find a man struggling with the animal, their bodies coiled around each other as they fought for dominance.

A howl of pain tore free from the man’s throat as the cat’s teeth sank deep into his shoulder. And then it was over, a sickening gurgle and the lion went limp in his arms, its blood covering his hands. Hands that looked huge and misshapen with claws…

In a blink they were normal hands and he lay panting on the ground, shoving the carcass of the animal aside. Millie edged closer, letting out a ragged breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Are you… are you alright?”

The man turned to stare at her in surprise, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there entirely in the heat of the battle. Chest heaving, covered in blood, his shirt in tatters, he gave a short bark of laughter. “Yep, I’m swell.” With a groan, he pushed his way to his feet, wincing as he limped to the log to take a seat.

Approaching him slowly, Millie tried to figure out how much of that was his blood and how much was the animal’s. The growing stain near his shoulder seemed to be all his, and she frowned over how rapidly it spread. “Take off your shirt, we need to take a look at that bite and see if we can stop the bleeding.”

“It’ll be fine,” he waved away her concern, but she wasn’t about to let it go.

“No, it won’t, not if we don’t do something right now. So take your shirt off!”

His jaw set into a mutinous line and Millie thought he really might be stubborn enough to sit there and bleed to death instead of accepting her help. Finally, he gave in and eased the shredded t-shirt up and over his head, leaving him in a blood soaked and equally shredded wife-beater. Using the ruined shirt to mop the lion’s blood from his hands and arms, he swiped away the worst of the mess but the shoulder continued to bleed profusely.

“Jesus…” Millie breathed when the shoulder wound became more visible. It looked like the lion had taken a chunk out of his shoulder but it was still attached. The man needed stitches at the very least and he needed them fast. Taking off her outer flannel shirt, she wound it around his shoulder, using the arms to tie it tight. “We have to get you to a doctor… do you have a car or something out here?”

“No doctor,” he bit out through gritted teeth as she knotted it into place.

So, he was one of those…
“Uh, look tough guy, you might be one of those macho ‘punch my stomach’ kind of guys, but you can’t screw around with a wild animal bite, it can get infected in a heartbeat. My friend Brian was out hiking with some friends, and a wild dog bit him. He thought it was no big deal but two days later he was in the hospital with his leg swollen up like a balloon, and there was even a chance he was gonna lose that leg, so…”

“No… doctor…” he cut her off with another growl, almost as menacing as the mountain lion’s had been.

Men were such babies sometimes. “Any chance of you growing a brain and going to the hospital?” Millie asked, her head tilting to one side.

“Any chance of you shutting up?” he muttered, already trying to push himself up to a standing position.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” Millie scowled as he shifted his weight with a grunt, obviously too wounded to carry on by himself, but too stubborn to admit it.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s exactly what I was going for.”

“Here, let me help you…” Amelia moved to help take some of the weight off the leg that was obviously paining him.

“I don’t need your help,” came the automatic reply, even as she insinuated herself under his good shoulder and wrapped her arm around his back, utterly ignoring his idiotic protests.

“What am I supposed to do, leave you out here to bleed to death while I skip on home without giving you another single thought?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Right beside him, Millie took the opportunity to study him up close. The piercing green eyes she noticed right away, hard to miss when their glare was aimed right at her. He was handsome in a rugged, outdoorsman way, and she could easily picture him as a lumberjack or some other physical profession. Or maybe that was just a fantasy spun by his well muscled chest and arms that looked like they could easily swing an axe hard enough to split a man’s skull… or crush a mountain lion. Older than her by at least a good ten years or more she guessed, his eyes showed faint traces of laugh lines. At least that proved he knew
how
to laugh. Dark hair fell in a slightly shaggy style that begged for a haircut, but the overall effect wasn’t unappealing, if she could get past the ever present scowl.

“You could try being grateful for the help you know.”

He gave a bark of laughter, “Me… be grateful to you… at the honor of being that thing’s chew toy for saving
your
ass? You’re a piece of work, lady.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to tackle a mountain lion for chrissakes, who does that?” She shook her head over the stupidity of such an action. “But I am grateful to you for saving my life,” Amelia added in a more subdued tone.

“Sure kid, anytime,” he grunted.

“You say that like it’s a normal occurrence for you. Do you fight wild animals on a regular basis?” He had managed to kill the animal pretty quickly and without a weapon as near as she could tell.

“Most of the time we leave each other alone. Then again, I’m not stupid enough to bring a picnic lunch into the middle of their feeding ground.”

“I didn’t know it was their feeding ground, and I was hungry…” Amelia protested, how was she supposed to know something like that?

He stopped walking and stared down at her like she’d grown another head. “For real you were sitting there eating lunch? Jesus lady, you don’t care much about temptation do you? When I said picnic lunch, I meant
you
; I didn’t think anyone was brainless enough to bring bait with them.”

Amelia resisted the urge to stomp on his foot, temper pricked by the insults when all she was doing was trying to help him. “No one bothered to go over lunchtime etiquette with me before I got hungry. What do you do when you stop for lunch?”

“I eat.”

“So the difference between us is…?”

“I can take care of myself. You… on the other hand, are nothing but a walking meal out here. Do yourself a favor, lady, go home and lock the door where it’s safe.”

“Would you stop calling me lady? My name is Amelia,” she snapped back, unable to fault his logic, only she hadn’t thought through the danger during the day.

“Go home,
Amelia
, I’ll be fine,” he stared down at her, his voice losing some of its bite as his eyes swept over her face.

For long seconds she stared up at him, tempted to leave him to his own idiocy, but there was something in his face that made her wonder if he didn’t want her help just the same. After all, he could easily shove her out from under his arm, the man was made of muscle, injured or not. Something about him intrigued her, and she wasn’t ready to give up yet. “I’m taking you out of here whether I have to drag you kicking and screaming or not. So get over yourself; I’m more stubborn than you are,” she urged him in the direction they’d been heading.

A long drawn out sigh was given, but he started moving forward again, the silence stretching between them until she spoke again.

“What’s your name?” He met the request with stony silence, focusing on the path ahead. Amelia frowned over the non-response; the guy had no social skills whatsoever. “God, I asked for your name, it’s not like I asked for your social security number or anything,” she grumbled.

“Okay…” Millie tromped along beside him for another few feet before she asked another question. “So, do you work out here? Live out here?”

Message received.

Chapter Seven

Millie took the hint and walked in silence, focusing on little more than lugging the hulk of a man through the woods. “How much farther is it?” she asked finally, her voice sounding overly loud to her own ears in the stillness of the forest.

“Not too much longer, see that formation of rocks there?” Cutter automatically pointed with his free arm which happened to be the wounded shoulder, causing him to wince.

“Don’t do that!” she scolded automatically before turning her attention back to the distinctive rocks. The log cabin came into view as they rounded the rock formation, a faint trail of smoke from the chimney the only indication anyone lived there. It was much sturdier than the shack she’d been imagining, but small to be someone’s entire house. There was no sign of a car, though there was an overgrown gravel drive leading up to the cabin. Both an axe and a chainsaw were propped near the front door, lending to the theory that he was some kind of lumberjack.

“Thank God,” she breathed, as they finally reached the threshold.

To say the cabin was a mess would be an understatement. Not that there was an abundance of garbage lying around, but the place clearly hadn’t seen a good spring cleaning in years. Thick dust clung to nearly every surface and cobwebs hung from the rafters. The furniture was dated and faded, though not particularly worn upon closer inspection. There were no light fixtures and a quick search turned up a lack of any light switches or power outlets visible anywhere. A
lantern on the table and an oil lamp on the fireplace mantle were the only signs of lighting sources except for the midday sun that struggled to penetrate the dirt streaked windows. And wood shavings, everywhere there were wood shavings! On the floor, the table, the kitchen counter;
how could someone live like that?

Someone had once made an effort to make the cabin a home. There were faded throw rugs on the smooth, wooden floor near the couch, before the fireplace and another in front of the kitchen sink. On top of the mantle were framed photos lined up neatly but so obscured by dust, she couldn’t tell what the subject of the pictures were from her vantage point. All in all… kind of a hole to be living in.