Page 8 of The Other Half

A thick layer of dust coated every available surface, and suddenly I missed Eleanor more than I expected. Even though she would want to see me suffer, she would faint if she saw the state of this place. Her feather duster would be wiggling a mile a minute while she whisked away the grime and dirt years of neglect had left in its wake. I imagined sitting at the salon getting my nails done and returning to find the cabin transformed into a clean, beautiful little getaway with new furniture, bedding, and even a new kitchen with granite counters and stainless-steel appliances. Okay, maybe I’d need more time than just a manicure to see all the changes I envisioned, but I knew she could work miracles in a short time.

But this is exactly what they expected of me, to call for help and go live my luxurious life while someone else took care of my problems. There would be no housekeeper rushing in to sweep the dust out from my path, no cook whipping up my favorite carb-free recipes in the kitchen, and no maintenance man putting the screen door back on straight. It was me. Just me. This was on my shoulders now and I lifted my chin, preparing myself for the work it would take to make this place habitable.

“Don’t touch anything, Poppy,” I said, holding her tighter and refusing to let her precious paws touch the filth surrounding us.

Movement by my foot drew my eyes and a long, slender shape slithered past me and the bedroom door. Grandpa could have heard my scream back in New York as I shrieked and bolted over it back out the front door. “Snake!” I screamed while I kicked open the screen door and it slammed open against the wall. With the slithering creature following behind me, I held Poppy tight while I bolted across the porch. When I took the first step it cracked beneath my weight and my foot slammed through the wood, down to the dirt.

“Poppy!” I screamed as she tumbled out of my arms and landed in a pile of leaves. Struggling to free my leg from the wooden stair trap, I watched her get up and shake herself off, unscathed by the fall.

Assured of Poppy’s safety, my efforts turned back to my imprisoned leg, and I pulled at the wood, desperate to free myself. When I saw the snake sliding toward me, another scream ripped out of my throat. This one was loud enough that my friends who went to Paris for the weekend likely heard it.

“Oh, my GOD!” I shrieked as it loomed closer. My leg throbbed from the pain, but I pulled harder, desperate to get free and away from the grey and black creature moving across the porch. This is it. It wasn’t a serial killer in the house that would be the end of me. It was a snake. A venomous, dangerous, vicious reptile! And I waited for it to wrap around my neck and squeeze the life out of me.

As I accepted my gruesome fate, Poppy yipped at it and bounced around me. But her bark changed tone, and she aimed it to the other side of me. Whipping my head around to see what could possibly be worse than a snake, another scream ripped out of my lungs when a large man covered in green and black shaggy camo hovered above me. Nope. It was going to be a serial killer that ended me, I thought while my scream continued shaking the world around us.

With speed to rival the snake, he reached out and snatched it by the neck. A quick toss and the long creature flew through the air and landed twenty feet away, pausing for a moment before slithering into the trees. My scream petered off as I ran out of oxygen and I looked up into the man’s painted face. When my eyes locked with his, I saw iridescent blue irises peering out from behind the black paint surrounding them. Other than his eyes, camouflage or paint covered every inch of him.

Panic ripped through me from his scary getup and yet I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like beneath all that paint. Those eyes bore through me and I struggled to refill my lungs, the screams having depleted me of every last breath.

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked, freezing while his eyes perused me and landed on my trapped leg.

Without a word he leaned down and grabbed the jagged edge of the broken stair and pulled. It gave way easily to his brute strength, and the pressure around my leg released. He tossed the rotten board off in the same direction he’d sent the snake. When I turned back from watching it thump to the ground, his rigid back was already striding away. Poppy hopped into my arms and covered my face with kisses. Dodging her tongue and trying to see, I watched him disappear into the woods, a bow in one hand and a backpack in the other. It was incredible how quickly he disappeared into the brush, his scary shaggy suit helping him blend in in mere moments.

“We’re alive,” I breathed, and crumpled into a boneless pile. It seemed neither a snake nor the man resembling a sasquatch would be the end of me. At least not today.

CHAPTER THREE

Jake

“What the hell is she doing here?” I grumbled while I pushed through the woods, away from the cabin with the hysterical woman scared of a harmless pine snake. That place had been abandoned my whole life and now suddenly this woman appears? When I had heard her scream, I’d thought I’d find an injured fox or at least one mating. They sounded a hell of a lot like a screaming woman. After seeing an actual screaming woman, I’d felt about as shocked as she probably had when her snake friend had tried to shake her hand in welcome. Unlike her, at least my shock didn’t end in me screeching so loud there likely wasn’t a creature left in these woods.

Looking back over my shoulder to where I’d see the cabin if it weren’t for the trees blocking the way, I shook my head. Great. My whole life I’d been able to roam free through these woods and now, just like that, they were no longer safe from the invasion of the outside world. I knew my feelings were irrational since I didn’t own the property, so I didn’t really have a say, but at twenty-eight years old and never having left this town, I’d never seen anyone here before. It felt like mine even if I didn’t have the official deed... even though I wished I owned it. I loved this twenty-acre spread of land butted up against mine. Now there was a stranger on my turf, and I felt my hackles rise at having my territory invaded. It didn’t even matter she was easy on the eyes, more than easy if I admitted it to myself, but I didn’t care how good she looked. She didn’t belong here.

VRBO. Had to be. I bet whoever owned this property tossed that God-forsaken shack up on the internet and advertised it as a “charming waterfront cabin” and charged an arm and a leg. Then the unsuspecting snake screamer had arrived and... surprise. The thought of her horrified expression realizing what “charming” really meant made me chuckle. From the looks of her, she wouldn’t last an hour in a place without internet and a maid service. If I had to guess, she’d arrived today, and she’d be gone by afternoon. Then I could get back to the peace and quiet these woods always afforded me.

But then I realized if she’d found the place online others would as well. Soon my little stolen piece of paradise would be booked every week and I’d have people running amok on the property bordering my two acres. From the state of the abandoned cabin, they’d be knocking on my door in no time begging me for help when the electric went out, or the plumbing, or the roof caved in. I didn’t have time to play handyman to a bunch of city folk and I certainly wouldn’t do it for free.

While I wished for a million dollars to snatch up this land and make it my own, I looked around and listened for the panting that followed me everywhere I went. All I heard was a soft breeze brushing through the leaves above me, so I put my fingers in my mouth and blew. My high-pitched whistle broke the silence, and a moment later I heard the rustle of leaves and something that sounded more like a bull charging than a black lab. But out through the bushes burst my dog, Hank, and he galumphed across the forest floor and slid obediently to my side, panting hard.

“Did you find anything good out there, buddy?” When I scratched his head, his pink tongue dropped out farther and he closed his eyes. “Any signs of those coyotes?”

A pack had moved in and was picking off my new fawns. Hank and I had spent the past three days in the woods hunting them down, hoping to scare them off before I lost another one. The resident deer in my woods were more pet than prey, and they lounged around my back yard most afternoons. Even though I hunted each year for meat, none of these deer would ever find themselves in my scope. I went up north to snag my yearly buck and left them meandering about, safe within the confines of my woods. And even though I didn’t own this property, as her presence reminded me today, I hoped this new development wouldn’t impede my hunts and walks through these woods.

“Come on, Hank.” With a pat on his head we started back to my house. After we walked a few more minutes, we wound down the worn path from our daily hikes and stepped into my yard. My small two-bedroom house on the lake was the only place I’d ever lived. When my parents moved to Arizona three years ago, I’d bought it from them for well under market value with the promise they could stay here anytime they wanted to visit. This property had been in our family for seventy-five years, since before the prices had skyrocketed when Door County became a vacation spot. Inheritance was the only way anyone like us could afford waterfront property in Door County, so I had no intentions of giving it up. Even when the developers offered me a fortune for it, I’d still said no. This was my home and I wouldn’t sell it for any amount of money. I had the lake for fishing out the back door and the woods surrounding me on three sides. It was peaceful here. Private.

Just how I liked it.

Hank beat me to the door and wagged his big black tail while he waited for me to open it. When I caught up with him, I pushed the door open and he raced inside to his water bowl. Big laps of his tongue sent water flying everywhere, and I laughed, wondering why he hadn’t figured out how to drink without making such a mess. It was a good thing for that towel I kept under the bowl.

I walked over to my den and hung my bow up on the rack. One layer at a time I stripped off my ghillie suit and hung it back up in my closet. A quick spritz with de-scenting spray and I closed it behind the doors until the next time I needed to be incognito in the woods. After wiping off my face paint, I went back into the kitchen. Hank trotted up beside me. Those big brown eyes found mine, and I knew that look. He wore it often.

“It’s not dinner time, Hank. You’re like three hours early, buddy.” But hearing the word dinner had his whole-body wagging, and I cursed myself for saying it. “You can have one bite. One.”

As if he knew he’d worn me down, he raced over to the bowl and sat down like he’d been taught since I got him as an eight-week-old pup. Unable to resist his well-honed begging routine, I walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a handful of dog food. Drool slipped out of his mouth and onto the floor before I could toss it in the bowl.

“This will tide you over. You can have your full dinner later.”

While he gobbled up the bites, I walked over to the over-sized window in my living room overlooking the lake out back. In another hour or two the fish would start biting, and even though I fished for a living on a commercial boat, I’d still spend my evening sitting on my dock casting into the water. Even after spending countless hours a week helping tourists haul in their own catches, I still enjoyed fishing. It was my therapy. But after what I’d been through this spring, there wasn’t enough fishing in the world to ease all the pain.