Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
I head to the bathroom, which is a bit more modern, the usual ceramic tiles and stainless steel for the various fixtures in there. After everything I had done, a good shower is something that called to me. I turn the knob, and find that the water gets hot pretty quickly and am thankful that this place is not totally rustic.
As I step my naked body under the hot stream of water, I’m left thinking, what’s next? Where was I going when I stormed out? Nowhere in particular. And I should have been at work four hours ago. Charlene was going to be pissed that I didn't show up, and I dread getting back to my phone and seeing the eighty-seven angry voicemails and texts that she has probably sent me since then.
I borrow some of his shampoo. Not my usual strawberries and cream scent, but sometimes you just want to be clean and don’t care how you get there. Lathering my hair, I look out one of the small nearby windows in the bathroom and see Hunter outdoors. He’s got a wood ax in hand and is hewing some firewood, all while shirtless. He’s sweating, and I can’t help but watch his back glisten as his muscles flex as he does his work. I start to wonder how any girl could have resisted taking all their clothes off and throwing herself at him with how he looked.
Freshly clean, I get dressed and head outside as he’s stacking up his fresh wood supply.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says, a sly smile on his face.
“Good afternoon,” I admit, not willing to lie to myself. “Thank you for washing my clothes. And for feeding me. And for... um... everything else.”
I’m beet red, and he just chuckles. “All my pleasure, Savvy.”
I stroll about and look around us. At his little patch of land, his cabin, and how rustic it all is. “So, you cut your own wood. What else do you do yourself up here?”
“Pretty much everything,” he says, setting the wood down in a plastic bin right outside the front door. He shuts it to protect it from the rain. “I do my own hunting; I have my own little garden; I live a pretty quiet life.”
“Completely off the grid, I guess?”
“Hardly,” he replies. “Unless you think I went and hunted my own cow for the beef stew.”
I shrug. “I’m a city girl, so I’m not going to pretend to be an expert, but I've never heard of a wild-cow problem plaguing Evergreen Valley.”
“Because there isn’t. I still got bills. I gotta pay for power and water, and even the internet.”
I look at the horizon, seeing nothing but tall trees and mountains. “You must get some terrible speed out here.”
“Hell yeah, it’s terrible, but it’s good enough for what I need it to be. I’m just modern enough to not be a caveman.”
“How do you make money, then?” I stroke my chin in thought. “Wait, are you some rich trust fund kid living out his hardened woodsman dreams?”
Hunter laughs louder. “Kind of wish I was, but no. I do enough to get by. There’s demand for venison—that’s deer meat, by the way.”
“I’m not that out of the loop, Hunter.”
“Well, sorry, I didn’t want to assume. But deer, moose, even the occasional boar. In other words, not domesticated livestock. What I don’t need, I take to the market. But my main income is from carpentry.”
“Carpentry? Woodworking?”
“Whatever you want to call it. I cut down the evergreens around here and do all the processing myself. All the furniture and wood pieces inside the cabin are things I’ve built with my own two hands. Then I keep making things, and sell them at the local market and on the internet. People will pay a pretty penny for stuff that’s handcrafted. I just use the word ‘artisanal’ a lot, and it all ends up selling really well.”
I’m fascinated by what he’s describing. It all seems so much slower paced. “So, what, you just stay away from society beyond that? Are you some sort of prepper? Thinking the world’s going to end soon or whatever?”
He stares off in the distance, scratching his head. “God, I hope not. Where am I going to get my whiskey if the world ends? I haven’t looked up how to distill that stuff myself yet.”
It all brings a smile to my face. “I’m sure it’s not that hard. First thing mankind ever did was figure out how to get drunk.”
We stride over to a porch swing outside of his cabin’s front door. He slaps the wood, inviting me to join him on it. I do so without hesitation. “Savvy, my girl, I’m a simple man. I do what I need to do to get by, then I head back down into the outskirts of Evergreen and enjoy some adult beverages responsibly on the weekends. I just don’t think I need to be rushing to make more and more money. All I care about is taking care of myself.”