Lumberjack BOSS

by Tabatha Kiss

  The keys slip from my hands and clash against the pavement.

  “Dammit,” I whisper to myself as I bend down.

  “Hello, Leonard.”

  “Ahh!” I shoot up and fall backward against my truck, recoiling from her shadow.

  My life flashes in front of my eyes. I look to her hands, searching for a weapon but all she has is that book clenched in her little fingers. She’s still wearing that stained skirt. Her cheeks are rosy from the autumn chill in the air. They poke out from the hood of her coat and I can’t help but think how adorable she looks.

  She holds up her hands and points at herself. “Hi, it’s me. It’s just me. Hazel Smith. How are ya?”

  I blink. “What the hell are you still doing here?”

  “Waiting for you. Believe me, I know what you’re thinking; that I must be some crazy lunatic but I can assure you that’s not the case.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Hazel chuckles. “Pretty sure. I’m just a highly-motivated girl begging and pleading for you to have a five-minute conversation with me about this whole Jackman Springs thing—”

  “No,” I interrupt. “I’m not canceling the project.”

  “Leonard, please—”

  “Leo.”

  She pauses. “Leo?”

  “Stop calling me Leonard. No one calls me that.”

  “Okay, well, Leo…” she holds out the book, “if you could just—”

  “No.” I open my truck.

  “Please. Please. Please—”

  “No.”

  I climb up and slam the door behind me. She quickly walks off and I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking that I’ve finally gotten through to her as I turn the ignition on.

  I shift the truck into reverse and tap the gas to crawl backward but I quickly slam on the brake as her form fills my rearview mirror.

  “I’m not moving until you talk to me!” she shouts, her voice echoing throughout the garage.

  Goddammit.

  I grit my teeth and roll down my window as my blood pounds with rage. “Get out of the way!”

  She twitches as I rev the engine but she doesn’t budge. I lift off the brake to jut backward enough to scare her but all she does is clench her eyes shut in terror.

  I groan with frustration and roll the truck back a little farther, inching closer to her until my bumper touches her stained knee.

  She opens her eyes and gasps. “Hey!”

  “Move!” I shout out the window.

  “Are you trying to kill me?!”

  “Yes!”

  Her jaw drops. “You’re psychotic!”

  “Me?!” I shift into park before hopping out of the truck. “I’m psychotic? You’re the one waiting around in a parking garage for nine hours. Don’t you have a life or a job or group therapy sessions to get back to?”

  “No,” she answers.

  I pause. “Oh.”

  She takes a deep breath, making her chest rise and my gaze instantly falls to it out of instinct. “I believe that Lover’s Trail is worth more to this community as it is now.”

  I look up. “This community? Do you even live here?”

  She flexes her jaw. “No, but—”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Spokane.”

  “Washington?” I gawk at her. “You came all the way out here from Washington to lecture me about what’s best for my community?”

  Her eyes shift in their sockets. “No, I just—”

  “Go home,” I tell her. “Just… go home.”

  I spin around to walk back to my truck but she steps forward.

  “You know, you could at least apologize for hitting me with your truck.”

  My anger spikes. “First, you stood in front of it. That was your fault. And I nudged you, I didn’t hit you. Second, I don’t apologize. I never apologize. Especially when I’ve done nothing wrong and I’ve done nothing wrong here. You’re the one who should apologize for wasting my time.”

  She shakes her head. “Do you even listen to yourself when you speak? Or are you one of those rich guys that can’t hear the douchebag in their voice over the sound of people kissing their asses all day long?”

  I take a step back, searching my tongue for a reply but instead, I sit flabbergasted. “Whoa.”

  She winces. “Sorry, was that hurtful? I’ve had a rough few days. First, I find out about this stupid housing development. Then, I get arrested for trespassing…”

  I blink. “That was you?”

  Her eyes fall in shame. “… No.”

  “Okay, look…” I stare her down. “I admire your spunk but I’m not going to tell you again, Heather.”

  “My name is Hazel,” she corrects.

  “Get out of the way or I’ll call security and have them drag you out of here by your earlobes. Again.”

  Hazel chews on her bottom lip. After several moments, she slides back and out of the way. “Fine,” she says.

  “Thank you.”

  I climb into my truck. As soon as I close the door, I turn to look for her again but she’s gone. I check again, glancing at every mirror and through every window to find her but she’s nowhere in sight. A closing door echoes through the empty parking garage. She must have really left.

  “Thank you,” I whisper again.

  I back my truck up, eyes wide open for her adorable, crazy face, but she’s nowhere to be seen from here to the street exit.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and speed off toward the edge of town.

  Soon, I reach the mountain road and turn off. A light gray fog billows in from the forest. Like always, I roll down my window to get a whiff of nature’s perfect scent. A wave of relaxation washes over me and I shift into first gear with a genuine smile on my face.

  I glance at the rearview mirror to see a pair of headlights tailing my truck up the mountain road. At first, I think nothing of it. I’m not the only person who lives up here but the yellow paint job brings me pause. It’s a taxicab.

  It continues to follow me along the winding road, taking each turn I do with just as much speed. I try to ignore it. I try to think of any other reason for it to be here other than what would amount to my worst nightmare but my smile fades completely as it follows me down my own damned driveway.

  “Oh, hell no,” I mutter as I step down from my truck.

  The back door of the cab opens and Hazel steps out.

  “No, no,” I say, pointing at her. “This isn’t happening.”

  She steps closer. “You know, all of this would be over if you’d just let me talk for five minutes.”

  “It won’t matter. Get back in the cab and go home!”

  I move toward my porch. Pearl sits on the top step with wide, protective eyes, growling slightly at the invaders on her grass and I don’t blame her. I pat her head to calm her and glance back at Hazel to make sure she’s leaving.

  She spins around and pokes her head into the open window to speak to the taxi driver. A few seconds later, she reaches into the backseat, grabs her duffel bag, and slaps twice on the roof.

  The driver takes off at full speed down the road and disappears into the thick fog.

  “Whoa, whoa—” I take a step down off the porch. “What is this?”

  She stands there and drops her bag by her feet.

  I frown. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m engaging in a silent protest,” she says, straightening her back to get as much height out of her petite stature as possible.

  I pause. “You’re what now?”

  “I’m not leaving this spot until you agree to have a serious discussion with me about saving Lover’s Trail.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not!” I growl. “Go home.”

  She digs her shoes a little deeper into the dirt.

  I grit my teeth. “I’m not changing my mind.”

  “I think you will.”

  “And I think you are trespassing on my land. Again.”

  “Have me arrested, then.”

 
“You think I won’t?”

  “No, because I am an optimist.” She sticks her nose up a little higher and I snort. “I believe in the good in people and I believe in you, Leonard Jackman.”

  “Jesus Christ...” I turn around rush into my house. Pearl follows me in and I slam the door behind us.

  I immediately double back to the window, watching and waiting to see if she caves but she doesn’t. She just stands there with locked knees and closed fists, staring forward at my front door through the blowing fog.

  You’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me.

  I throw the door open and step back out onto the porch. “What about food?” I ask her. “Eh? We’re out in the middle of nowhere. There are no cell phone towers out here. No restaurant delivers to this area. What are you going to do about food?”

  She hesitates. “I…”

  “You didn’t think about that, did you? You didn’t prepare for hours — possibly days — of silent protest. Did you?”

  “I am confident that you won’t let me starve to death, Leonard.”

  “Stop calling me Leonard.”

  “No...” She smirks. “Leonard.”

  My eye twitches but I throw a smirk right back at her. “I don’t suppose you have toilet paper in that bag, do you?”

  Hazel blinks to hide the horror on her face. “I’m not leaving!”

  “Yes, you are!”

  “No, I’m not!”

  “Yes!”

  “No!”

  I stomp with frustration and spin around to go back inside. “I do not have time for this shit!”

  “Leo, name one thing in this world that you actually care about!” she shouts after me.

  “I’ll name two,” I say from my doorway. “Peace and quiet.”

  I slam the door and close the blinds. My pulse pounds in my chest, pumping rage and adrenaline through me, but I quell the temptation to argue with her any further.

  She can rot out there for all I care but this protest will never go that far anyway. She’ll give up and go home in a few hours. Her Spokane, Washington, city-girl nature will eat at her soon enough. She’s not dressed for camping and she’s not hardened enough for any sort of real protest.

  Pearl swipes at my thigh and whines with inquisition. I reach down and scratch her head while I slowly peek through the blinds at my front lawn one last time.

  Hazel Smith.

  What a brat.

  Five

  Hazel

  Leonard Jackman.

  What an asshole.

  I just want five minutes to tell my story but he won’t let me get three words out before shutting me down. Well, if peace and quiet are what he wants, then peace and quiet are what he’s going to get.

  I’m not moving from this spot until he agrees to talk to me. I owe it to my parents to at least try and preserve this one small piece of their history. It’s not like Lover’s Trail is hurting anybody. What the hell vendetta does this guy have over a few miles of trees by the lake?

  A chill runs down my spine as my body temperature falls a little more. I kneel in the dark to search my bag for my sweatpants.

  The door opens and Leo steps outside with a steaming mug in his hands. “You know…” he says, taking a sip, “if you’re really going to stand out here for my amusement, you might as well throw on some boots or a shorter skirt.”

  I grit my teeth and kick off my shoes before stepping into my sweats. Hopping on one foot, I yank them up beneath my skirt, nearly slipping on the moist grass as warm blood rushes to my face.

  Leo smirks with amusement. “You’re never going to last out here,” he says. “It’s fifty degrees right now but that’s going to drop to twenty in the next few hours.”

  “Is that concern I hear?” I ask. “Do you care about my well-being?”

  “No,” he says. “I just don’t want you dying on my lawn and coming back to haunt and annoy me for the rest of my life.”

  I pause. “You believe in ghosts?”

  “Holly, if there’s the slightest chance of that happening, I want to do everything in my power to prevent it.”

  “My name is Hazel.”

  “Whatever. What do you want?” he asks, enunciating his words. “Money? I have money. I can give you money.”

  “I don’t want your money,” I say, zipping up my coat. “I want Lover’s Trail.”

  “I will write you a blank check.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  His head falls and he mutters quietly to himself as he turns back around and walks inside again.

  As the door slams, I throw my hood over my head and smile. He’s trying to buy me. That means my protest is working.

  I’m wearing him down. All I have to do is hold out until morning. His warning about the weather is a bit concerning but with my sweats, thick socks, and this coat, I should at least survive until dawn.

  Assuming a bear doesn’t get me first.

  Oh, dammit. Why did I have to think that?

  I twitch in the direction of a cracking twig and stare into the darkness with wide-open eyes.

  The porch light flicks off. I look to the windows to catch Leo smirking at me through the curtains before they fall back down again.

  I exhale and lower myself to sit on top of my duffel bag.

  I can do this.

  Never give up.

  Fuck, it’s cold.

  And I have to pee.

  My stomach growls.

  No. I can do this.

  I hope.

  Something touches my face. It’s soft and warm.

  And wet.

  My eyes fly open to see a large animal lapping at my nose.

  “Ah!” I jerk awake and roll away from it in a haze. My neck stiffens, scolding me with a crick for sleeping on it wrong and I wince with pain.

  For a second, I forget where I am. I feel dirtier than I’ve ever felt before in my life. There’s mud on my clothes and my hair itches like bugs are setting up shop on my head.

  Oh, yeah. I’m on Leonard Jackman’s lawn. I’m still hungry and my bladder is about ready to explode but I survived the night, so that’s something…

  I look up and his dog is staring at me.

  “What?” I ask it. “What do you want?”

  It questions me with a head tilt.

  The cabin door opens and Leo steps out in jeans and a tucked-in red flannel shirt. He whistles loudly and the dog rushes toward him and retreats into the house before he closes the door.

  His gaze falls on me and he sighs. “Oh,” he says. “You’re still here.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, rubbing my neck.

  He twists the doorknob twice to make sure it’s really locked before stepping off the porch toward his truck.

  I stand off the ground and my back pops. “Ugh…”

  “I see you slept well,” he says with a smirk as he passes me.

  I look him up and down, noting the flannel and jeans... along with the smooth skin above and below his beard. I catch a whiff of his aftershave and a warm shiver tingles me down to my toes.

  I shake it off. “Is that what you always wear to work?” I ask.

  He pauses and spins slowly toward me. “What’s wrong with it?”

  I snort. “It’s a little… casual, isn’t it?”

  “I own the building,” he says. “I’ll wear whatever the hell I want.”

  “Okay...” I chuckle.

  “Wasn’t this supposed to be a silent protest?”

  I mime a key against my lips and turn the lock twice, making him seethe a little more before stepping up into his truck.

  He revs the engine and glares out the window at me. I stand still, refusing to blink as I stare back at him from the grass. After several moments, the window rolls down and he pokes his head out.

  “You’re not going to vandalize my house, are you?”

  I shrug, keeping silent. The thought honestly never crossed my mind. I’m not a damn criminal but this might be more fun if he thinks I am.


  I let a smile crawl across my face and he shifts with unease.

  “You better be gone by the time I get back,” he says over the rumbling engine. “Or I’m calling the cops.”

  I cross my arms.

  “I mean it,” he adds. “Last night was a noble effort but I’m not going to put up with it again. You need to be gone. Tonight.”

  Still, I say nothing.

  Finally, he grunts with annoyance and turns his attention to driving out of here. I keep my eye on the truck until it rolls down the driveway and disappears from sight.

  Man, I have to pee.

  I rush off the lawn into the woods, hoping to find a secure area to relieve myself. Oh, god, I gotta use leaves, don’t I? Not unless I seriously want to ruin one of my tank tops.

  I carry on through the woods until I lose sight of the driveway. If he suddenly comes back, I certainly don’t want to be caught in a squatting position. Waking up on his lawn covered in dirt was embarrassing enough and, of course, he looked nice and perfect with his well-kept beard, trim and styled hair, and come-fuck-me blue eyes.

  What a prick.

  After a little fidgeting, I figure out a good position to do my business without spattering on my feet. I bend over to scoop up a few soft leaves, grimacing as the harsh reality bleeds into my psyche.

  Something growls behind me and I freeze mid-stream.

  “Oh, no…” I whimper.

  I’m going to die out here.

  I’m about to die in rich boy’s backyard, eaten alive by whatever the hell forest monster is sneaking up on me. If I’m lucky, it’ll rip me apart before I ever feel a thing and the only evidence left behind will be shards of my blood-splattered coat and not my mangled body covered in my own piss.

  I take a deep breath and find the courage to peek behind me with one eye.

  Leo’s dog stares at me from the surrounding brush. Its golden tail starts wagging as we make eye contact and I flinch with the sound of its loud bark.

  “Oh, hey… good doggy?”

  It growls at me again.

  “Okay, maybe not-so-good doggy.” I glance around for spying eyes. Thankfully, it’s still just me and Cujo out here. “So, if you don’t attack me, I have some really horrible beef jerky in my pack with your name on it. Okay?”