Chapter 3
An hour later, the man is sprawled out on my small bed in the camper. He’s almost too big for it, and he’s bleeding all over my bedding.
I try not to grumble to myself because it might not have been his fault that he got shot. Innocent people get hurt all the time, and he certainly didn’t appear in my life for the sole purpose of intruding on my space.
But I’m not used to people anymore, and my camper and its small spot by the creek have become my private sanctuary.
I don’t want him here.
He’s unconscious now, so there’s not much hope of getting rid of him soon.
I’ve cleaned him up better and cut off his torn and bloodied trousers. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of old gray cotton briefs that do little to hide his body.
He looks bigger than he did outside. His body is toned and muscular. His thighs and biceps are huge, and his belly is mostly flat. There’s dark hair on his arms, legs, and chest and more visible beneath the waistband of his underwear.
I can see the outline of his privates beneath his underwear, and that makes me feel uncomfortable too.
It’s intimate.
And I’m no longer intimate with anyone at all.
He’s still sweating, but he starts to shiver, so I find the blanket I use in the winter and cover him up with it, hoping he’s not going to ruin the warmest thing I possess.
I wipe some of the sweat from his face because it’s dripping everywhere, but that feels too intimate too, so I stop.
I sit there on the lounge across from the bed and stare at him, Molly curled up beside me with her head down but an eye on the intruder.
This man shouldn’t be here. I really want him gone.
But I also don’t want him to die.
He mumbles something under his breath, and the only word I can make out is “bunny.” He must really be into his woman if he can’t stop babbling about her.
The three of us stay like that for almost two hours. Then his eyes finally flicker open and land unerringly on my face.
I stare back at him.
He shifts slightly, wincing as he does. He lifts his head to visually examine his situation—the small camper bed, the blanket over him, me and Molly on the lounge nearby.
“You need anything?” I ask at last. He looks a little better. Much less pale than he was earlier, and he’s neither shivering nor sweating right now.
“Water, if you have it.”
Water is something I always have. I get it from the creek and boil it to kill any germs. Then I fill gallon jugs with it, so I always have it when I need it.
I pour out a glass for him and bring it over. He lifts his head and reaches for the glass, but when his hand shakes, I hold the glass steady for him as he sips it.
He takes one swallow after another until he’s drunk half the glass. Then he rests his head back on the pillow. “Thanks.” He clears his throat and blinks several times. “I’m Micah.”
“Kat.”
His eyes follow me as I set the glass on the counter and sit back down, reaching over to stroke Molly, who has sat up, ready for action. “With a C or a K?”
“A K. They tried to call me Kathy when I was little until I made them change it to Kat.”
“You definitely look more like a Kat than a Kathy.” His eyes are weak but warmly amused.
I have no idea why he’d be either warm or amused. He might no longer be close to death, but he’s in pretty bad shape right now.
“Do you live by yourself all the way out here?”
I frown. “Why is that any of your business?”
“It’s not. Just curious. I’m surprised. Women don’t usually live on their own anymore.”
“I know. But I can take care of myself. That’s a lot safer than trusting men.”
His eyebrows lift slightly but not in surprise. “Which man broke your trust?”
“Why do you assume there’s only one?”
His lips open and close, like it’s a response to whatever he’s thinking. Then he nods slightly. “I can move out of your bed if you want me to. I think I’m up to hauling myself to my feet.”
“No. I can turn that table into another bed, and you’ve already bled and sweated all over that one.”
He gives a short, choppy laugh and relaxes again.
He seems to be a fairly good-natured guy. I wouldn’t have guessed it from his intimidating appearance. His hair in the sun coming in one of the small windows has a slight reddish cast to the brown, and he’s got a crease in one cheek that’s almost—almost—a dimple.
Cleaned up and healthy, he’s probably a very attractive man.
Not that I care about such things anymore.
“What’s her name?”
My eyes jump to his face in surprise. Then see he’s focused on Molly.
“Molly.”
“Hey girl,” the man says. “Hey, Molly. How you doin’? You’re a beauty, aren’t you?”
Molly jumps off the lounge and hurries over so she can present her head to Micah for pets. She pants blissfully as he caresses her fur and scratches behind her ears.
I almost smile.
For some reason, his bonding with my dog makes me more uncomfortable than ever. He seems a lot better now. Maybe he’ll be able to leave first thing in the morning.
Into the silence, his stomach growls. Very loud.
I jerk in surprise, and he gives one of those dry huffs of amusement. “Sorry. Haven’t eaten in a while.”
With a sigh, I get up and go to the cabinet where I stowed the food I got in trading with Billy. I need to eat something too, so I make us both sandwiches with the cheese and ham.
I hand him one and sit back on the lounge to eat mine with a fresh glass of water.
“This is damn good,” he says around his second bite.
“I trade with the bar in Cleverly. They’ve got a community garden there and some goats, pigs, and chickens, so they always have bread, eggs, goat cheese, and ham or bacon.”
“What do you trade?” His eyes are slightly wary, and I immediately know why.
“If I wanted to trade sex for food, that would be my choice and a perfectly rational choice nowadays.”
“I never said it wouldn’t be.” He pauses. “Do you?”
“No.” I tell him the truth because I can see no purpose in a lie. “I would if I were desperate—anyone who says they wouldn’t has never been desperate enough—but I’ve been able to scavenge enough supplies to trade with.”
He nods and doesn’t answer. Just continues to eat his sandwich.
It’s just as well. I’m not sure there’s any answer he could have given that wouldn’t have raised my hackles.
It will be no surprise to anyone that my hackles are nearly always up.
I didn’t use to be like that, but I am now.
Later, Micah manages to get up and go outside, walking far enough to pee in the outhouse and return. He’s really shaky on the final steps back to the camper and the climb inside, so I don’t suggest he leave tonight.
Tomorrow morning will be soon enough.
I check my perimeter warning traps, go to the bathroom myself, call Molly back in from the woods, and then lock up for the night.
It’s pitch-black inside and out except some faint light from a crescent moon and the battery-operated lantern I turn on in the camper.
I fold the tabletop down, unfold the booth seats to spread into a bed, and then put my one spare fitted sheet over it with an old fleece blanket.
I’ve pulled out my braid and am brushing my long hair when I realize Micah’s eyes are on me. I thought he was already asleep.
I meet his gaze with a questioning look.
“You’re beautiful,” he says.
I blink, surprised by the compliment out of nowhere.
His eyes slide from my hair to my face to my chest, where my breasts are obvious beneath the thin fabric of my tank top.
I have an old sports bra I wear when I go out in the world since it’s easier to hike long distances and run if I need to without my boobs bouncing everywhere. But I don’t sleep in it.
“Don’t be getting any ideas,” I tell him bluntly.
“The only idea in my head right now is that you’re gorgeous.” He appears to mean it. There’s some heat underlying the admiration on his face, but there’s nothing predatory or aggressive.
“Being gorgeous is irrelevant to my life now,” I tell him, pulling off my socks and jeans and covering my lower half with the blanket.
“I don’t have sex anymore. And I sleep light with the pistol in easy reach.
” I call Molly up to my bed since she was eyeing our normal bed like she was confused about which one she was supposed to get up on. “So don’t get any ideas.”
He gives that choppy burst of amusement. “Okay. Got it.”
I turn off the lantern, and into the dark, Micah adds, “Not sure I’m up to much fuckin’ tonight anyway.”