by Raina Wilde
#
She started work the day after, and was kept busy for a week learning the ropes and slowly taking over the work load. Two of those days she spent driving around introducing herself to the farmers she would undoubtedly be visiting often. The land was pretty here, so much different to her native Kansas. There were gentle rolling hills, cleared of trees, that looked out over ragged mountain ranges to the west. Occasionally the land dipped low into a thickly forested river valley, the pine trees and ferns growing so close to the road that she couldn't see into the trees.
One evening, just before sunset, she stopped at a scenic rest area a few miles from her house. The gravel rest area was no more than parking for a few cars, a picnic table, and a trash can. It overlooked a valley with a river snaking through it. Blueberry bushes covered the side of the hill she was parked on, and in the distance were mountains that looked hazy purple. She sat on the picnic table and listened to the sound of crickets as they started their songs for the night. Suddenly she heard a rustling sound from the bushes a few yards away. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She wasn't usually spooked, especially by animals, but something was making her feel on edge. She retreated back to the car and as her headlights swept across the picnic table she saw a giant black bear emerge from the underbrush. She gasped at its size, much larger than an average black bear. It stood on its hind legs and placed its paws on the picnic table. For a second Evita thought the table would break under the bear’s weight. The bear looked at her and she felt there was something familiar about its eyes. After a moment the bear turned around and retreated back into the bushes. Evita watched him go, and then pulled away. After driving slowly and carefully back to her hotel, she slipped into a fretful sleep, filled with dreams of bears.
The next day was Saturday and she woke up early to go to the house. When she pulled up, she saw Shane's truck was in the driveway. He was mowing the front lawn. She watched him for a few minutes, still amazed at his size and strength. Finally he noticed her and shut the mower off to come over.
"Hello, gorgeous, " he said while wiping his hands off on a rag. "How are you this morning? " She noticed he had black bags under his eyes and looked tired.
"I'm okay. You look like you need to go back to bed, " she said.
"Yeah, rough night’s sleep. But. . . " he drew out the word and reached down for her hand. His hand was smooth and warm, and although she would have normally pulled away from a man brazen enough to grab her hand without asking, she found herself entwining her fingers into his as he led her toward the house.
"I have a surprise for you, " he winked at her suggestively.
"It better be a sanded kitchen floor and new wiring, " she replied.
"Oh, it's better. Close your eyes, " he said when they get to the front door. He slipped behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. She walked slowly into the house, with the press of his body behind her guiding the way. She wanted to walk slowly, to stay in this position. His solidity behind her felt incredible.
"Open your eyes, " he said when they had come to a stop. His breath was warm against her ear and she shivered. When she opened her eyes she resisted squealing like an excited little girl.
"This is beautiful, " she said instead. Shane had not only sanded the floor and replaced the wiring in the kitchen, he had built custom maple cabinets. They were stained dark, almost black, but since the kitchen had large windows and faced south the effect was somehow warm. The floors were stained to match, and the walls were painted a crisp clean white. The countertop was a beautiful white granite and he had installed stainless steel appliances.
"This must have cost so much more than I gave you, " she said finally.
"Nah. The appliances aren't brand new. Close, but used enough that I got them at a pretty good discount, " he ran his hand over the wood. "The wood came from my lot. It's right next door, actually. I milled the trees down myself in my shop so these are all solid wood. "
Evita breathed in deeply. It smelled like freshly milled wood, sweet and earthy.
"I love it, " she said quietly.
"Good, " he replied.
She turned to him then and kissed him on the lips. They were salty, but soft. At first he was surprised, and he didn't resist but he didn't react either. Then Evita felt his arms wrap around her body and pull her in tightly. She gasped at the strength of him, the easy way in which he pulled her close. He moaned into her lips, a deep wild sound, and she felt her body react. She pushed against him, running her fingers into his hair. It had been a long time she had been with a man. She was always so focused on school and work that she felt like she didn't have the time or energy for a relationship with another person.
Shane lifted her up so swiftly and easily that she gasped. His large hands cupped her thighs and wrapped her legs around him. Evita clung to his back, her arms not long enough to encircle him. He walked her through the newly installed kitchen toward the dining room.
"I have another surprise for you, " he said, his voice was throaty and hoarse.
"You're dirty, " she joked. She wanted to kiss him again, she was aching to feel his lips against hers.
He made a throaty groaning noise that was part desperate sexual need and part laugh. "That's not the kind of surprise I was talking about, " he held her up against him with one hand and threw open the doors to the bedroom. It had been refinished as well, but he had also installed a king size bed made from the same hard maple as the cabinets. It was a chunky, solid looking sleigh style bed. There was just a bare mattress on it, but Evita didn't care.
"Where did that come from? " she asked.
"Don't worry about that right now, " he growled in her ear, and he brought her in for another rough kiss. One hand held her body against him, and the other roamed over her clothes, desperately pulling them off one layer at a time. He placed her on the bed and unzipped her jeans. His fingers brushed against her bare skin as he pulled them off and she moaned with desire. When she was naked in front of him he held her knees, spreading her legs. His eyes took every inch of her in, and although she was confident, she was also always just a bit self conscious of being naked in front of anyone. The desire in Shane's eyes, however, and the greedy way in which his hands roamed up her legs pushed any shred of self consciousness out of her mind. She could tell he wanted her, and she wanted him so desperately she could barely stand it.
As he undressed himself Evita watched, his muscles flexed and rippled as he moved with fluid grace. His hips were chiseled and defined, and she saw he had a scar running across his chest. She looked into his eyes and thought they were darker, an intense black she had never seen before. They were almost feral. For a minute she felt afraid, but when he slipped between her thighs he was so powerful, but gentle, she forgot any apprehension and lost herself in sheer pleasure.
Afterward they lay on the bed, entwined, and when she finally got her breath she asked him where he got the bed.
He rumbled a laugh deep in his chest. "I made it, a long time ago. It was a request from a woman who was paying me to make all of the furniture in her house. . . some big deal oceanfront place with lots of windows. Well I made it; I thought this grain pattern was interesting. . . " his fingers traced a peculiar pattern in the wood that resembled leopard spots. "It's called a burl, it's where the wood has grown into a bulge after some kind of stress. An injury or disease. Anyway, she didn't like it. The bedside tables I made were with different trees, without burls, and she wanted the bed to match. . . "
"So you had to make it again? "Evita asked, her fingers also touching the grain, expecting it to feel bumpy like it looked, but it was cool and smooth.
"Yeah. I made it again. And then I just put this one into storage, " he shrugged.
"Why don't you use it yourself? " she asked. He didn’t answer, instead he rolled over and kissed her deeply. After a few seconds she forgot she had asked the question at all.
#
The next morning was foggy and a light dew had settled on th
e grass. Evita got a call at four that morning about a laboring horse in distress. When she woke up she found Shane had left during the night. As she drank her instant coffee and pulled on an old pair of LL Bean boots, she tried not to dwell on the fact that he had left in the middle of the night after having sex. She wasn't the type of girl to get offended easily, and just chalked it up to the fact that he wanted to go home, to his own bed. She didn't often think of other people's reactions as a slight on her. People did what they did, and that was that, as her father used to say. She drained her coffee and jumped into the SUV for the45 minute drive to Applewood Farm. The hike through the paddocks was picturesque, with the sun breaking through the morning sky and lighting the world in orange and pink. The horse lay on the ground, each agonizing breath coming from its nose in a fog of steam. The farmer was there with his horse; he wasn't inexperienced, but he had done everything in his power to help and was at a loss for what to do next.
Evita instructed the farmer on what to do, and together they got the foal free. As Evita cleaned and stitched the mother, the foal took his first steps toward her to feed.
"Thank you for your help, " the farmer said, holding out a hand for Evita to shake. She took his hand and smiled.
"That's what I'm here for, " she said.
"I know, but it's still appreciated. How are you settling in? " he asked as they made their way back down the field.
"I'm settling. I bought a house and it's being renovated right now. I'm staying in a motel until it's done, " she answered.
"Anyone good doing the work? I know a few guys, if you need another hand, " he said.
"It's a neighbor. I was lucky to meet him actually. His name is Shane LeFevre, his property abuts mine. . . "Evita was going to continue and say that Shane had done a beautiful job on the kitchen but the farmer had stopped short. His face was pale and drawn, and Evita dropped her bag, ready to give the man first aid. Surely he couldn't be in shock from a simple farmyard birth? He was an old-time farmer, he must have seen much worse. He held up his hand and shook his head, seeming to come out of it.
"Are you okay? " she asked, "do you need to sit down? "
"No, no. I'm fine, " he answered, and started walking again. "But you want to stay away from that LeFevre. He is well known around these parts and he is nothing but trouble, " the farmer quickened his pace, as if eager to be away from Evita. She hoped she hadn't just lost a customer, and back-pedaled to try to save face, and find out more about why this old man disliked Shane so much.
"Oh, I don't have time to keep close relationships. He's just a hired hand, " she said, and the farmer looked at her so earnestly she felt ashamed at the lie.
"You want to be keeping it that way, " he replied. "That LeFevre is no good, " the farmer shook his head and spoke under his breath as he walked away toward his house. Evita could see his wife at the door, still in her dressing gown, and she waved politely.
On the drive back she mulled over what he could have meant, and she wished she had asked for details. Maybe she would call the farmer and inquire further, but then she shook it from her head. She wasn't a stranger to small-town politics. Just because this was Maine didn't mean the old farmers were any different to how they were in Kansas. Men held grudges. Maybe Shane did some work that someone wasn't happy with. Or maybe he slept with someone's sister and didn't call her back. Who knows? The littlest things can ruffle some people's feathers. Although Evita felt a pang of jealousy wash across her at the thought of Shane with another woman. She shook it away and turned on the radio as a distraction.
When she neared home, she pulled into Shane's driveway on a whim. She told herself it was to ask why he hadn't deposited the check for the work yet, but really she just wanted to see him. Especially after the night they had had together. And maybe she would ask why the farmer was so cagey. She pulled down his long gravel driveway but the house was dark and empty. His truck was in the drive, but she couldn't see the motorcycle. She figured maybe he had gone for an early morning ride. Or maybe he was working on a construction project and was on site. Either way, she backed out of his drive and then headed to work, eager to put on a pot of coffee. It had been a long morning already.
After a few hours of cleaning up the office and sterilizing equipment Evita flipped the sign on the door to open and took a seat behind the reception desk with a fresh cup of coffee. She intended on spending an hour or so sorting paperwork before her first appointment, a routine vaccination of a house cat, when the bell over the door disturbed her. A man came in wearing a khaki colored uniform and hat. He removed it as he came in, and Evita could see the local university insignia on the breast pocket of his jacket. He wore a gun holstered to his hip.
"Can I help you? "Evita asked, standing up.
"Hi, I'm Matthew. I'm a biologist with the university, " he held up an ID badge. Behind him another man was coming through the door carrying a german shepherd.
"We were in the area studying bears when our dog got caught in a trap, " he continued, and the man carrying the dog came forward enough so Evita could see its leg was severely lacerated and broken. Evita jumped to her feet and guided them behind the desk into the surgical quarters. The men watched as she tended to the dog's leg. He was in pain, but still gentle, and lovingly licked her hands as she administered a local anesthetic.
When she was finished she led the men, and the dog, back to the front of the office and sorted out their bill.
"Thank you very much, " Matthew said. He was friendly, but Evita couldn't help but think it was a little forced and false. The other man was quiet, he had barely said two words. Evita chalked it up to being upset about the dog. They paid, and the man handed Evita his card. She felt like he was looking at her a little too earnestly, as if he was trying to look deep into her mind and gain some kind of insight. She was glad when she could close the door behind them. She stood at the window watching until they loaded the dog in the back of their truck and drove away out of sight.
#
The next few weeks passed both slowly and in a blur. Evita hadn't seen Shane since their night together, and with each day that passed she got more anxious that it was something she had done and more worried that something had happened to Shane. After another two weeks in the hotel, she was eager to move into her new house. She gave up waiting for Shane to come back and called a local woodworker to finish the job. Ten days later she moved into her house, with the upstairs and down completely renovated. On a whim she asked them to install a basic operating room in the basement, just in caseshe needed to do emergency procedures out-of-hours. The room was white tiled, floor to ceiling, with a drain in the floor. It had a stainless steel table in the middle and she stocked it with some basic supplies and equipment from eBay. She decided she liked the bed Shane had left, and figured if he had a problem with her keeping it, she would just offer to buy it from him.
The rest of the house was furnished in mostly new, but some well-worn old, pieces, and one of the two small bedrooms upstairs was converted into an office. The first night she spent in the finished house after checking out of the hotel was wonderful. She had never felt so settled. She made an elaborate ravioli dinner, rolling the pasta out, then cutting circles with the rim of a glass. Then she carefully scooped spoonfuls of mushrooms and cheese into the dough and slipped them into the pan to cook. She plated them with a side salad and brought a bottle of wine into the living room, where she curled up on the couch to watch television.
The next morning, on a whim, she pulled into Shane's driveway again. His house was dark, and the lawn looked like it hadn't been mowed in weeks. The grass was tall and weedy, and fallen pine needles littered the gravel paths. There was a single light on over the garage, but otherwise the place looked abandoned. Evita got out of her car and approached the house carefully. She felt on edge, and a little like she was trespassing, but she took the stairs up to the front door anyway. She tried the doorknob and found that the house was unlocked. She stepped inside timidly, and called Sha
ne's name a few times. The house was silent except for the hum of the kitchen appliances and the tick of a clock on the wall. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Shane's phone number. She heard the faint sound of a phone ringing and followed it. Through a set of sliding glass doors that led out to a wooden deck on the back of the house, Evita could see a pile of clothes left on a table. There were several leaves on top of them, and they looked damp. She opened the sliding glass door, which was unlocked too, and stepped onto the back deck. Shane's clothes had been folded and left on the table, and his boots were under it, his socks balled up and shoved inside. She stepped forward and dug through the clothes until she found his phone and wallet. The phone battery was almost dead, and he had 5 missed calls. She felt like she was intruding but scanned through the calls anyway. The earliest one was from almost a week ago. A knot of anxiety curled in her stomach. His phone, a simple pay-as-you-go burner you could buy at any gas station, hadn't been touched in a week.
She took his clothes and boots inside and left a note asking Shane to call her if and when he got home, and that she was worried. She left the note on top of the clothes and then went back to her car. Nothing in the house or outside looked amiss. Shane was simply gone. While she backed out of the driveway she dialed the local police and reported him missing. They submitted a missing person's report, but after a few days when Evita called to ask how the investigation was going, they said there were no leads and it wasn't a high priority case.
She sat at her desk after hanging up from the police with her head cradled in her palms. She checked her phone for the hundredth time that day, hoping that maybe he had sent her a text or a call. The bell above the door rang and she looked up. It was the biologist from a few weeks ago.