The Woodsman's Baby

by Eddie Cleveland

  And now it’s going to end.

  The thought shoots through me, burning my nerves and making my hands shake around my coffee cup. Cole and I spent the entire day and night fucking. The amount of times and ways that we were one left my body sore in the best way and my spirit awakened. I was sure, as we were drifting off to sleep last night that he would finally whisper the word I’ve been longing to hear for days.

  Stay.

  “Tomorrow we have to say goodbye, huh?” He asked and my heart shattered.

  “If you think so,” I tried to leave it open, to put my foot in the door, leaving a crack of possibility for him to change his mind and invite me.

  “I can’t keep waiting to be found. It’s only a matter of time until the authorities head out this way. I’m guessing your boss has gotten a hold of them and his own boss by now,” his deep voice was tinged with betrayal.

  For a moment, I felt guilt swirl up inside me that I had ever been a part of that manhunt. My ignorance about who Cole really is didn’t feel like an excuse.

  “I’m sorry I’ve caused all this trouble for you,” I tried not to let the lump growing in my throat affect my voice.

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Besides, none of that matters now. I guess the only thing to do is get you back to town and for me to find a new place to make my home.”

  “Sure,” I didn’t want to say any more than that single word because I knew if I uttered even one syllable more, my voice would crack and my tears would pour out of me.

  Instead, I rolled over, trying to seek comfort in Cole’s arm wrapped around me. Trying to memorize the way his skin felt on mine as he spooned me. Trying to make the moments until he marched me out of these woods last forever.

  Mama was right about so many things. Living my life. Having new experiences. Opening my heart. What she didn’t tell me was the overwhelming pain of heartbreak that comes from losing it all.

  I wipe my hands over my misty eyes and stand up. I need a distraction. Sitting here crying isn’t going to change a damned thing. Cole’s going to need a fire in the stove to cook the fish on, so I’ll go grab some wood and try to get one started for him.

  Placing my mug on the counter by the door, I slip on my boots and walk outside into the early morning sunshine. The air smells sweeter this time of the day, with the dew glistening on the plants and bushes. Everything looks like it’s twinkling. I take a deep breath of fresh air into my lungs and try to clear my head. Turning the corner around the cabin, I start stacking a small armful of wood onto my arm.

  Thud, thud.

  I turn toward the heavy footsteps smiling, expecting to see Cole holding a line with his catch of the day dangling from it.

  My eyes grow wide and I open my mouth to scream as I drop the wood to the ground, but no sound escapes my lips.

  Cecil stares at me with wild eyes and a scowl etched onto his dirty face. His hair is standing on end and he has debris scattered throughout it. His clothes are ragged and filthy. He looks like he was dredged up from a swamp, his hollow eyes flash at me as I can see madness dancing inside them.

  “Good morning Abbie,” his voice is stuffed up like he’s got a cold or suffering from allergies.

  I glance from side to side for Cole. He’s not here. My eyes desperately scan around me for a weapon. I’m not an idiot, I know a deranged animal when I see one. When I look at Cecil he looks no different than a rabid bear. He’s probably twice as dangerous.

  The only thing around me is the wood and I lift up a log unconvincingly like a short, fat bat.

  “Stay back,” my voice wavers.

  “Isn’t it crazy?” He steps toward me slowly and I inch back until my legs hit the pile of wood. “I’ve been out here for days looking for you Abbie. Fucking days!” I can see scrapes and what look like bee stings covering the backs of his hands. His grimy clothes are tattered and his gray hair is strewed. “I thought you might be dead. I worried about you. And all this time you were shacking up with a fucking killer.” He lunges forward and I yelp, twisting to the side, I run around the corner of the house, but my scalp sears with pain as Cecil jerks my head back by my hair. I swing the wood, but miss him and it clangs against the side of the cabin with a deadened thud and drops from my hand. Cecil grabs my shoulders and throws me against the wall so hard my teeth rattle and I see spots in the sky. Before I can scream, his hand circles around my throat and he’s pressing down hard. I gasp for air.

  “Let me go,” I sputter and kick at him but he throws his entire body forward and pins me back against the wall. I’m trapped under him and the corners around my vision are starting to go black as I fight for my breath.

  “I looked after you. I was going to make you rich. Make you famous. But it turns out you just wanted to chase some dick, huh? Isn’t that what you’re doing out here. Sucking his cock?” He glares at me with his icy blue eyes.

  I try to argue. To scream. To plead. But all that comes out is a squeak as he crushes my windpipe. I’m feeling dizzy and my head is growing light.

  Is this how I’m going to die?

  I can’t even cry. I’m just stuck under him. Stuck smelling his rotten breath as he accuses me of being a slut.

  “Cause if it’s cock you’re chasing, I’ve got some for you,” with his free hand he tugs the front of my pants down and I try to twist my legs shut. He presses harder on my throat and I can feel my consciousness slipping away. My limbs are hard to control, my lips are tingling and my head is woozy as I try to suck in some air.

  “No,” I manage to breathe the word out. Not that he cares.

  Cecil steps his foot between mine and kicks my legs open, I try to claw him, to slap him, to kick him, but I’m barely hanging on. The world has become a small tunnel containing only his disgusting, dirty face.

  I can feel his gritty hand on my skin and I can’t even sob. My face feels like it’s filled with too much blood. Like when I was a kid and used to hang upside down on the monkey bars for too long. Tears spill over my cheeks and I realize there’s nothing I can do. He’s stronger than me. I’m overpowered. He’s going to rape me.

  He might kill me.

  And there isn’t anything I can do.

  33

  Abbie

  I hear a fast crunching sound, but my mind can’t make any sense of it.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Cole’s voice cuts through the fog, giving me hope as I sputter for breath.

  I hear a fleshy thud and then my throat is free. I fall to the ground and wheeze in long, deep breaths, my lungs burning for oxygen. I cough and choke as I gasp at the air like a fish out of water. Slowly my vision returns and my mind clears. I realize that just because Cecil isn’t on me anymore that doesn’t mean this is over.

  I reach down and pull up my pants, fighting my instinct to vomit at the thought of him groping me. I push away the vision I have of what he planned to do to me and struggle to get to my feet.

  Using the wall, I pull myself back to my feet and look to the ground where Cole and Cecil are struggling for power. They roll around in the dirt and Cole slams his fist into Cecil’s face.

  Blood explodes from his nose, pouring everywhere but it doesn’t stop Cecil from fighting like a rangy wolf. He twists and turns, managing to break free from Cole’s mount and before I can blink, he pulls a gun from a holster inside his jacket.

  Cole doesn’t move, he stays perfectly still on his back and raises his hands up. “Listen, we can work this out. You can put that away,” his tone is firm yet somehow calm.

  “Work it out? Like how you snuck up on me and knocked me out? You left me to die, you think I give a fuck if I kill you? I’ll probably get a medal.” Cecil waves his gun at Cole menacingly, “Not to mention a million bucks.”

  “Cecil don’t!” I cry out and he twists toward the sound of my voice and points the gun straight at me. “I should kill both of you. Murderer and his slut,” he glares at me and I shiver.

  Cole lunges up from the ground and knocks Cec
il over, but the gun doesn’t fall from his hand. Cole holds down his arm and struggles to keep him from firing it as he punches him again. Cecil flings his head to the side like a rookie boxer who just got knocked out by a world champ. He goes limp and Cole stands up and looks over at me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I am now,” I tremble and Cole walks toward me. I need to feel his thick arms wrapped around me. I need to...

  BANG!

  Cole drops to his knees and blood spreads over his shirt and down his arm as Cecil struggles to get to his feet.

  “No!” I screech.

  Blood is pouring from Cole onto the dirt. The only thing that moves on his burly frame is the spurting river of red gushing from his wound.

  Cecil teeters on his feet like a newborn calf and I let out a deep scream of losing yet another person I loved as I bolt at him. I have no real plan as I plow into his gut like a linebacker, throwing him off balance and forcing him to stumble backward to the edge of the cliff. Cecil sways back and grabs onto me, twisting his hand in my shirt and dragging me forward as he tries to anchor himself to me. My body weight is no match for his and I slide forward. My feet reach the edge and rocks kick loose under his feet as he begins to fall over. My toes are over the side and I can see the fall that is about to kill me. I’m going to plunge to my death with him.

  My arms are suddenly yanked back roughly and I’m pulled away from the cliff and topple on Cole as Cecil shrieks loudly and then stops when his body hits with a sickening thud below.

  I turn over and roll off Cole. I know I almost died, but I can’t hide my elation. I’m so happy he’s alive!

  “Oh my god! Cole, can you get up?” My eyes fall to the blood still spilling from his shoulder and I strip my shirt off, I couldn’t care less about my exposed body as I press the fabric to his wound to try to stop the bleeding.

  Cole grabs my fingertips that are pressing against the shirt. “I love you Abbie,” his voice is hoarse and he tightly presses the shirt to his wound and sits up.

  “I love you too,” I blink back tears, surprised at how much I needed to hear those words from him. “You saved my life,” I murmur, like I’m explaining what just happened to myself.

  “We saved each other,” he answers. “You’re a lot tougher than you let on, Abbie. Not a lot of girls would do what you just did.”

  “It’s like you said, sometimes the only option is to kill,” I echo back his words and try to throw his good arm over my shoulder and help him to the cabin.

  “What are we going to do?” My mind reels at the reality of Cole’s wound and a dead man at the bottom of the mountain.

  “We’ll figure it all out, together,” Cole answers through grit teeth and I guide him inside not knowing how we’ll fix any of this but confident that with Cole I can do anything.

  34

  Cole

  I keep Abbie’s shirt pressed tight against my shoulder, trying to clot the bleeding. I slump down into a chair and grit my teeth as Abbie watches me with wide eyes and wrings her hands.

  “What are we going to do? We have to get you to a hospital,” the reality of this situation seems to be taking root in her mind and tears I expected a while ago finally well up in her green eyes.

  “No hospital. No doctor. I’ll go to jail. That’ll be the end. I need you to listen to me, got it? You’re going to help me through this. We can do this together, but you need to calm down and follow my instructions, okay?” I try to keep my own voice cool and collected, but struggle with every breath that brings searing pain to my shoulder.

  “Yes,” she wipes away her tears. “You’re right, what do I do?”

  “First thing you can do to help,” I start.

  “Yes,” she watches me intently.

  “Is go put on another shirt. I can’t think with your beautiful tits in my face,” I try to smile, but it comes out more as a grimace.

  Abbie looks down at her exposed torso like she completely forgot she removed her clothes. “Oh, uh, of course,” she covers her breasts with her arms and rushes across the room, pulling a plaid, button up shirt from my clean clothes. I’ve gotta say, I prefer how it looks on her, clinging to her curves.

  “Now, boil some water Abbie. And while you’re over there, take a look through my military duffel bag for my old sewing kit. I need you to grab the smallest needle in there and some thread, okay?”

  Abbie nods dutifully and lights the stove, placing a small pot of water on top. I focus on my breathing as she scrounges through my belongings until she finds the old army green sewing kit and plucks the supplies from inside.

  “Abbie?”

  “Yeah?” She whirls around and stares at me, waiting for instructions.

  “Go grab the last of the whiskey, will ya?”

  “Sure, just a sec,” she doesn’t question me, she just rummages in the cupboard until she finds the quarter bottle of booze.

  “Give it here,” I hold out my good hand and Abbie opens the top and places the bottle in my palm. “Okay, grab a clean cloth and bring the pot over here with the sewing kit,” I gruffly command her and take a long swig of the booze as she does as she’s told.

  Abbie brings the stuff over to the table and I finish off the whiskey in one long gulp.

  “I’m gonna need your help getting this shirt off,” I plunk the empty bottle of booze onto the table and Abbie nods.

  Together we manage to get the bloody shirt free from my body.

  “Did it go through?” I try to turn my head, but the pain is too much.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Take a look at the back of the wound, is there a hole back there too? Did the bullet go through?” I wince as I lean forward in my chair and Abbie peeks at my back.

  “It did. You’re bleeding down your back too,” her chin quivers and I hold up my good hand.

  “You gotta keep it together. You’re doing amazing right now, just a bit of stitching and it’ll all be taken care of,” I try to soothe her.

  “You want me to give you stitches?” She gasps.

  “You have to. I need to close this wound up and I can’t stitch myself very well.”

  Abbie nods slowly, like she’s trying to understand words in a different language. “Okay,” she finally answers, “tell me how to do this.”

  “First, I need you to clean the wound up. Get the cloth dripping wet and clean both sides,” I push my good hand against the wall for support as Abbie prepares the cloth. She places it over the bullet hole and I sharply breathe in over my teeth and shut my eyes. “Keep going,” I encourage her shaky hands. “You gotta clean both sides.”

  She listens to my instructions well, gently flushing out the hole in my shoulder with the hot water.

  “Now what?” I open my eyes and see her fear has been replaced by determination. She juts her jaw out and looks at me.

  “Do you know how to sew?” I ask, hopeful.

  “Sort of, it’s been a while,” she answers sheepishly.

  “Great, it’s like riding a bike, you never forget. So, thread the needle, got it?” I watch as she laces the thread through the eye. “Perfect, now I need you to hold the skin together as close as possible and stitch it up, make a knot after every stitch, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best,” she answers, but her hand hovers in the air, shaking. Her eyebrows knit together and she freezes to the spot.

  “Abbie,” I interrupt her thoughts, “you already saved my life today, I know you can do this too. You can do anything,” I encourage her softly.

  Abbie takes a deep breath and her breasts push up and out. She leans over me and I can feel the needle press through my flesh, but it doesn’t hurt. “Good girl, you got this. You’re a badass, you know that?” I smile.

  “I’m really not,” she protests, but keeps her fingers busy as she ties a knot then slides the needle back into my skin for another stitch.

  “Well, you took care of that piece of shit like a badass, that’s for sure. I’m proud of you,” I tel
l her honestly.

  Abbie ties another knot and makes another stitch, “What are we going to do about him?”

  “What do you mean?” I wince as I feel her pull the thread tight and the wound closes up. Abbie keeps sewing, not answering me.

  “I mean, someone is going to find him. They’re going to know he was killed when they find this place. They’re going to find out I murdered him,” her voice creaks and tears stream down her face.

  “Hey, shhh, come here,” I pull her in with my good arm and kiss her on the forehead. “Listen, you can still go back to Whitehorse. I mean, if the bears don’t eat him first and someone really does find him down there, they’ll think it was me, not you. If they ever find me, I’ll say it was me, okay?” I soothe her.

  “No!” She yells and jumps back.

  “What? What are you talking about?” I search her face for an answer, but her tears leave me no clues.

  “I don’t want to go, Cole. I don’t want to go back to Whitehorse, or the US or anywhere that isn’t right here with you. And not because of Cecil. Not because I lost my Mom, or any of that. I don’t want to go because I’d be walking away from the only man I’ve ever loved. I can’t. Please don’t make me go,” she sobs into her hands, her body shaking.

  I’ve been hoping she would give me some kind of sign that she didn’t want to go. For days now, every time I’ve brought it up, I’ve been holding my breath, hoping she would tell me she wanted to stay. However, each time, she always agreed with me that it was time to leave.

  “Come here,” I demand, holding out my hand to her.

  Abbie wipes her sleeve over her face and steps back into my arm looking down at me hopefully.

  “You don’t have to go anywhere, Abbie. You think I want to watch you leave? You’re mine, remember, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life remembering the short time I had with the perfect woman. I want to live with her, fill her belly with babies, live each day with her until we’re old and wrinkled up. I never wanted you to go, I just didn’t want to make you stay.” My voice is thick and full of emotion as my heart beats rapid fire in my chest.