"Oh damn!" I squint at the blinding light coming into my cabin the following morning.

I must've slept in if the sun is already this bright! I haven't done that once since I arrived.  The full belly did me a world of good, lulling me into a deep and lasting sleep.

I did a few things as I waited for my meat to fully smoke. I weaved a makeshift box out of sticks to store the smoked meat. It sits proudly on my shelf, making me feel a little better about my food supply here. 

I also made my best attempt at carving a spoon from a piece of wood from my downed tree. It's not bad; it looks weird, but it works. I even made a second one. I told myself it was for a backup, like if it broke, but that's not why. I made it for Jackson in case he ever eats here with me again.

I know I'm ridiculous. He made it clear it was a one-time thing, but I can't help but want to know him. I've never been the one to initiate contact with anyone. If this was back home and a guy told me to buzz off, I'd never go near him again. In fact, I would go out of my way to avoid him. It's funny what loneliness will do.

I sit up, groaning as my body aches, the sleep and the food were so needed, but so is a day or two of rest. I've been hiking in these woods almost every day, and my body has had enough. I can't keep pushing this hard. But I feel like I'm racing against the clock that is Mother Nature.

My legs scream at me as I stand up, and the back of my calves feel like they could rip right down the center. I don't have a choice, do I? I need to take it easy today. I'm wearing myself out, and exhaustion won't do me any good either.

I hobble over to the wood burner and add a log so it keeps burning. I take a peek at the stew and lick my lips. It's gotten so thick overnight it looks like sauce! I'll need to add water to this and stretch it out. I still have enough here for three days, give or take. This is the first morning I haven't woken with a growling, painful belly. I'll wait for breakfast. Make it a brunch thing.

"Water," I groan. I am almost totally out. Damn it. I should go now, get it over with.

Today, I'll take it easy, I decide as I grab my water jugs. I'll fish all day tomorrow, as I can sit doing that. Two days that I'd be mostly sitting. I should be healed after that, especially with all the protein.

Satisfied with this plan, I exit the cabin, and the sun is shining bright! It looks like we're going to get a little blast of warm weather before the cold starts to hit. That happens often at home in Chicago, too. It doesn't last long—a week at best, but I'll take it!

Maybe it'll even get warm enough for a creek bath. Although, now I'm going to be all paranoid that Jackson will show up...

Jackson. I finally have a name to go with the face. It suits him, sort of rugged but with this touch of handsome elegance behind that dirt and scruff. I wonder if he ever goes by Jack? That may fit him even better out here, short to the point. 

Here I go again...

Maybe later, I'll work up a good daydream and imagine Chase is here. That'll help me forget about my woodsy neighbor.

I make my way to the outhouse to take care of my morning business. I bring the little water I have left to wash my face and brush my teeth.

After that, I start heading towards the creek with my two empty water jugs, the corn cans, and a toolbox. I'm still in my sleepwear, a baggy tee shirt, and flannel jammy pants, but I don't care too much. What I look like has been the last thing on my mind while I'm here, other than worrying about weight loss.

I can't help but let it wander into my thoughts now. I've seen my face in the reflection of the glass door on my stove, but to clean myself up, not to check myself out. Does Jackson find me pretty? He's met me after days without a bath and then covered in deer blood, unlikely. I nearly laugh at the idea.

I hear the crunch of leaves coming towards me and come to a halt as I see Jackson walking towards me.

He's carrying one of his buckets but walking towards my camp with it?

"Hey—uh, here," he says, avoiding my gaze as he sets the bucket down at my feet. I look down to see it's full of water.

"What? That's that for me?"

"It's from the creek, so you'll have to boil it. I have enough buckets. I can spare one."

I'm stunned. After spending so many hours with me yesterday, I assumed he'd stay far away. My tongue is tied as I look down at the bucket and then back up at him.

"I— thank you," I manage.

"You're going to kill yourself trying to get water every single day. This will help," he shrugs off the gesture. "But—today, I need a favor from you..." he trails off, his eyes falling to the cans in my hands, and he arches an eyebrow. "What are you doing with those? They're at least ten years expired."

"That's why I was going to open them far away from my camp," I explain. "I figured I'd try and dig a hole to keep the corn for fishing and wash the cans at the creek. I want to use them for maple sap."

"How are you going to tap the trees?"

"A nail and hammer, and I'll make a spout from the lid on the can."

A smirk tugs at his lips for a moment. "You are smart, Sam, but it's not that easy."

I consider correcting him, but I don't mind the shortened nickname; maybe that fits me better. I am a new me, after all. 

"I have a tool for it and I know what trees are more likely to work. I can come and tap a few for you tomorrow." He continues and I refocus my attention on the topic at hand. 

"Really? You'd do that?"

"You're going to use that sugar to make syrup, right?"

"That's the plan."

"If you share the syrup with me, we'll call it a fair trade."

"Why are you helping me?" I arch a curious brow.

"I need this favor today, and syrup sounds much better than straight sap."

"What's the favor?"

"I'm behind on what I need for smoked fish. I need the creek today, and I need it quiet so I can focus. Can you stay away for one day?"

"Yeah... I can, but I also need to get a lot of fish smoked."

"You can have the creek for the rest of the week. I just need today."

"Okay. Fair enough," I agree.

"Hand me those cans. I have something I can put the corn in."

I do, and for a moment, my hand brushes his as he takes them from me. A warm feeling comes over me, but it's gone as fast as the touch. He turns without anything further to say leaving for the creek.

I watch him for a moment and then grab the bucket and turn to head back home. It's heavy, but I don't have far to go. 

This is amazing. I can make it last at least three days, maybe more. I lug it to my camp and get right to reigniting my outdoor fire. That downed tree from the storm not only helped me build my smoker but also gave me some extra firewood.

I work on boiling the water as I sit and rest my legs.

A day off, what do I do with it?

***

I'm lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. After getting my water sanitized, I had lunch and decided to nap.

It's futile. I'm wide awake, and in the silence, the thought about how my dad is back home has crept into my subconscious. Is he still fighting for the insurance money? I assume so. When my mom died, it was nearly six months before we got paid out if I remember right, and that was a normal case with a body. What if they don't believe my dad or suspect he's up to something?

"Don't go there, Sammy!"

I need a distraction I don't need to be dwelling on things I can't control.

Chase... I'll think about him. I squeeze my eyes shut and try but can't seem to conjure him into my head. Jackson, on the other hand, and those eyes of his easily take over my thoughts.

I warn myself not to crush on him, but it's hard not to notice that he is extremely attractive despite his skinny frame and choppy hair. Seeing him relaxed by the fire, eating, and offering advice, I saw this softer side of him. It felt like maybe we could turn a corner and work together.

He took it upon himself to bring me that bucket... that's a good sign.

"Or is it?" I'm getting out of bed as I suddenly doubt everything.

He made it so clear it would be a one-time thing the about-turn doesn't make sense. 

Does it?

No, I decide. It doesn't and did he even make eye contact with me? No, he conveniently shifted his eyes to the corn cans and got into his "favor."

I let myself get carried away, deciding to trust him. I assumed since he didn't steal anything when he had the chance, he was a good guy. What if I was wrong? This is land that belonged to criminals, after all. He probably is one or is involved with them. 

My heart wants to believe I'm right about him, but my head isn't so sure.

It is true he didn't catch any fish yesterday. I saw the empty bucket. But he said there's a pond near him. He has traps set up, and he had fish in his smoker the other day.

He wanted to make sure I didn't come to the creek today.

"Why?"

I can't very well follow him; then it'll be too obvious that I don't trust him. My plan to continue to try to work with him and be the bigger person was a good one, and it still is.

But....

I need to know what he's up to.

I quickly cleared all the items off my table and then dragged it outside. I set it by the side of the cabin and studied it. I'll need a bigger boost than this.

Running back in I grab my chair and then set that on top of the table.

"If you fall, you're screwed," I mutter more so to remind myself to be careful.  I am. I go slow as I climb up on the table, ignoring the scream of my calves. 

I then climb up on the chair and reach for the ceiling. As cautiously as I can, I use my arms to pull myself up on the roof. It takes a bit of effort, but my arms have gotten strong from all the wood chopping, and I manage to pull myself up. 

I climb on and stand amazed at how much of the woods I can see. The roof is slightly slanted but not so bad that I can't balance myself. I turn towards the water, and sure enough, I have a clear view of the creek from up here, just like I thought I would!

"Where is he?" I squint. I see his bucket and his pole, but not him.

Maybe he's taking a bath, and that's why he wanted me to stay away! My cheeks redden as I consider this, and I am just about to hop down when something silver flashes in the sun and catches my eye.

"Wait... what!?"

His boat... the one he uses as a bathtub, is in the creek, and Jackson is sitting in it, rowing it across.

"That liar!"

He's going over there. Why? Is it to get those walnuts before I have a chance? Whatever it is, he lied. He said he was fishing all day. He said not to cross the creek and there he is doing just that. He is not to be trusted, and I did. 

 I'm such a fool, sharing my hard-earned food with him.

"No way." I am determined as I carefully climb back down.

He thinks he's got one over on me, but he's wrong. I'm going to find out what's over there, too. 

I'll be right behind him.