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Rust

Something's off. I can feel it in my bones.

When you live in the wilderness alone for as long as I have, you learn to sense a shift in the harmony of the forest.

I stop mid-swing, setting my axe down beside the firewood.

The sound of a whimpering scream echoed through the trees again. It was a human sound. A woman. I haven't forgotten what a woman sounds like.

I follow the sounds through the trees, south from my cabin, until I see her.

A woman, dressed in pink, lying crumpled at the base of a tree. She's clutching her knee, her face contorted in pain. She slowly struggles to her feet before noticing me. She freezes like a deer.

"You alright there, girl?" I ask, my voice gruffer than intended. I don't like people in my woods. People bring trouble.

She looks up at me, her eyes wide with surprise. They're a sparkling green, like the first leaves of spring. She offers a small, apologetic smile as I step into the light.

"I think I twisted my knee," she says, her voice soft and sweet, like fresh honey. "Thank goodness you came along. I thought I was dead meat for sure."

I feel a sudden urge to protect this woman. Every muscle in my body wants to move to her, hold her, and never let her go. I stomp down the feelings, keeping my expression neutral.

"Night's coming. What the hell are you doing out here alone, girl?"

Her smile falters. "I was trying to find some wild blueberries. I got turned around and...yeah." She gestures to her knee. "This happened."

I raise an eyebrow. "Blueberries?"

She nods. "For a very important order at the bakery I work at. I'm Charlie, by the way." She extends a hand towards me.

I ignore it, instead looking down at her knee. It's already starting to swell. She's in no shape to be walking back alone. I grumble under my breath, "Stupid town folk."

The woman, Charlie, glares at me. "You don't have to be such a grump."

But I am a grump. I like my solitude, and I don't like people. I'd rather spend my time chopping wood and fishing than having meaningless small talk with people.

"Your knee," I say, gesturing towards her. "Looks like you might have sprained it or something. No way you're walking back to town like that. Especially in the dark." I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck.

It looks like I'm going to have to help her. There goes my plans for the evening.

I was supposed to be preparing for tomorrow's fishing trip, not babysitting some city girl who got lost in my woods. Still, I can't just leave her here to fend for herself. She'd never make it back to town in her condition.

"Come on," I grumble, offering her my hand. "Let's get you back to my place. I can patch you up there."

Charlie looks at me, her eyes searching my face for a moment before she finally takes my hand. Her grip is warm and surprisingly strong. She winces when she puts weight on her leg.

Holding back another sigh, I grab her and hoist her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry.

The woman shrieks.

"Don't worry, I won't drop you," I say.

It's not far from here to my cabin. She's a thick, beautiful woman, so I don't mind having my hands on her, even if it is only for survival purposes. Even though she's sweaty and dirty, her scent is sweet, like vanilla and sugar.

I stomp through the woods with her on my shoulder. She squirms a little, grumbling about her dignity. I grin to myself, knowing full well she can't see me.

"So what's your name anyway, mountain man?" She asks, her voice muffled against my back. "I've never seen you in Darkmore before."

"It's Rust." I glance back, forgetting that I can see nothing but the great view of her ass in tight denim shorts. I snap my attention back to the path. "I don't go into town often."

"Not even the bakery? That's where I work."

"I don't eat bread."

"What?!" She shrieks. "How does someone not eat bread?"

"I have gluten intolerance."

"Oh," she says sheepishly. "Well, we could special order gluten-free flour for you. Or maybe even rice flour."

"That's fine," I cut her off her enthusiastic nattering. "I've gotten used to life without it," I grumble, adjusting Charlie's weight on my shoulder as we approach my cabin.

The warmth of her body is starting to get to me, making my mind wander to places it shouldn't. I shake my head, trying to clear the thought. I'm not the kind of man who goes after women who look to be half my age.

"Well, that's a shame," Charlie says, her voice soft. "Bread is my life. The smell of freshly baked bread is...well, it's magical. You should try it sometime. I'll make something special for you."

I snort but say nothing as we reach the cabin.

My pile of firewood is abandoned in the yard, if one can call the grassy clearing a yard. It's the closest thing I have living out here. The lamps cast a warm glow on the porch. The cabin is small, with one bedroom and simple furnishing, but I made it with my own two hands.

"Here we are, home sweet home," I say as I set her down.

Charlie uses my arm to steady herself.

Fire ignites in me at her touch. No. I can't let her affect me like this. I'm not some sort of caveman. I'll let her stay the night and rest. Then she's out of here. No ifs, ands, or buts.