Lumber Jacked

by Chance Carter

  He sat down and the waitress took the bottle.

  “I’ll run this through the washer,” she said.

  Grady played with the baby, fed her the formula, and wolfed down his own meal with a hunger that surprised even himself. Afterward he went to the counter to settle up.

  “You have a good appetite,” the waitress said.

  “It’s been a big day.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  She handed him the bill and he gave her the money, including an extra twenty.

  “What’s that for?”

  “For helping with the formula.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Grady shook his head. “I insist.”

  She looked at him. He knew what she was thinking. He knew that look. She wanted to know if he was single.

  She leaned forward on the counter, giving him a nice view of her ample cleavage. Grady felt his cock twitch in his pants.

  She wasn’t bad looking either. In her early thirties, same as him. Pretty smile. Nice breasts under her apron. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to go home with her, feel some warmth against his skin.

  But he couldn’t do it. He’d been burned too badly, too recently, to be in any mood for romance.

  “Well, thanks again,” he said, and went to the gas station counter in the next room.

  He paid the kid for the gas and the map and got his keys.

  “You know the way to Destiny?” he said.

  The kid seemed surprised.

  “That ain’t an easy road,” he said.

  “Is it paved?”

  “Mostly, but it will be covered in snow, maybe even snow drifts.”

  Grady nodded. “Give me a set of those snow chains too then.”

  Chapter Three

  Autumn

  Autumn woke just as the train was coming to a stop. She looked at her watch. It was one thirty in the morning. An hour late.

  She grabbed her things and headed for the exit. When the doors opened, the icy air shocked her. She clutched herself for warmth and stepped down onto the platform. Wind blew straight from the mountains causing flurries of snow to race down the tracks. She looked up and down the length of the train. She was the only person to get off.

  She hurried into the station and shut the door behind her. She was in a small waiting room with a few benches and a pay phone. There was a ticket desk and a snack stand but both were closed.

  She rubbed her hands together and breathed on them for warmth.

  She’d been told someone would meet her at the station. She went to the front door and looked through the window.

  Her first view of Destiny.

  It was a single street lined with old-fashioned buildings and lit by streetlights on black iron posts. It looked like something out of a western movie. There were no cars and no people.

  She took her phone from her pocket and scrolled through her contacts.

  Mr. Hildegard.

  She pressed Call but nothing happened. No signal.

  She sighed and looked over at the pay phone.

  Please work.

  She searched her pockets and found three quarters.

  She dialed the number and waited apprehensively.

  A gruff voice answered.

  “Raven’s Nest.”

  “Mr. Hildegard?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Autumn Lane. I’m at the train station.”

  There was a brief pause.

  “You’re late.”

  “Yes, Sir. Sorry about that. The train just got in.”

  “I was there an hour ago but didn’t wait.”

  “No, of course not. If you give me directions I can walk to the hotel.”

  Autumn shivered at the thought of hauling her knapsack through the blizzard. One thing Destiny had already shown her was that the jacket she’d brought was not going to be up to the job here in the Rockies.

  “Three miles,” Mr. Hildegard said, “I don’t think so.”

  He hung up and Autumn chose to believe that meant he was on his way. She sat on her knapsack, it was warmer than the bench, and waited.

  Fifteen minutes later a very old pickup truck pulled up outside.

  Autumn could see two people sitting in the cab but neither made a move to get out. She stood there a moment looking at the truck, at the cloud of exhaust fumes coming out the back, and then the horn honked twice.

  She took a deep breath, grabbed her pack, and ran out into the snow.

  As she approached the truck, a lady in her sixties climbed out of the passenger side.

  “Throw your bag in the back,” she said.

  Autumn did as she was told and climbed into the cab. The lady climbed in after her, sandwiching her with the driver.

  “I’m Mr. Hildegard,” the driver said.

  “But you can call him Master,” the woman said.

  “Master?”

  “That’s right,” Mr. Hildegard said. “And you’ll call my wife Mistress. You got a problem with that?”

  “No, no,” Autumn stammered.

  “No what?” the lady said.

  “No … Master,” Autumn said, the word sounding strangely foreign in her mouth.

  Mr. Hildegard, her new Master, put the truck in drive and pulled out of the station and onto the main street of Destiny. Autumn peered out the window at the stores. They were quaint, something from a bygone age, and she wondered what they sold.

  When the stores ended, the road continued through pitch black forest and Autumn was very glad she hadn’t been taken up on her offer to walk. She had no doubt wolves, bears and all sorts of other monsters inhabited the darkness that enveloped them. In the small patch of light cast by the headlights she saw nothing but snow.

  They drove in silence for a few minutes and turned through an iron gate onto a private driveway. That led to a grand building that looked more like an old English manor than a Montana hotel.

  “Welcome to Raven’s Nest,” Mrs. Hildegard said.

  They got out of the truck. Autumn grabbed her pack and followed the Hildegards up the stone steps that led to the entrance.

  Inside was a great hall and Autumn was relieved to see a fire raging in the massive, stone fireplace. Instinctively she was drawn to it but didn’t dare move from the spot by the door where she was standing.

  The Hildegards stood in front of her, assessing her in the light for the first time.

  “A little scrawny,” Mr. Hildegard said.

  His wife nodded. “We’ll whip her into shape,” she said.

  She turned to Autumn.

  “This is the Grand Hall, where guests arrive and check in.”

  Autumn looked around her. The hall was paneled with smooth, dark wood and lined with old paintings, portraits of stern-faced people wearing outfits from the eighteenth century. There was a massive staircase, intricately carved, and all around her were the stuffed heads of deer, caribou, bison, bear, wolf, and every other kind of animal that might be hunted in the surrounding forest.

  Autumn realized her mouth was wide open and shut it.

  “Now, I don’t intend to give you the grand tour at this hour, but there are a few ground rules I want to make very clear from the beginning.”

  “Yes … Mistress.”

  Mrs. Hildegard nodded in approval.

  “First of all, the reason you’re here is to work. And we expect work. Every day.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “This isn’t a summer camp or a daycare, so get rid of any evil notions you have of being idle here. You will earn your keep, and if you don’t, you’ll be on the first train back to your mother, do you want that?”

  Autumn could think of nothing she wanted more, but she didn’t voice that longing.

  “No, Mistress,” she said.

  “You do as you’re told at all times. You obey me and Mr. Hildegard in everything. The slightest insolence or disobedience will be harshly punished.”

  Autumn wondered what that could p
ossibly mean but didn’t ask.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Any shortcomings, the slightest infraction, the smallest mistake, and you’ll forfeit your entire pay for the week.”

  Autumn wasn’t sure that was legal but she found herself nodding. She needed this job so badly.

  “If you do right by us, obey us in everything, serve us tirelessly in every way we command, you’ll have nothing to worry about. Your mother will receive your pay promptly every Friday evening by wire transfer.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “And we all know how expensive those doctors are, don’t we?” Mr. Hildegard piped in.

  Autumn turned to him, the first time she got a good look. He was short and fat with a red face and white, bristly whiskers. He wore small, round glasses and was busy lighting a pipe.

  “Yes, Master,” she said, determined to earn what was needed for her mother’s medical bills.

  “Now, follow me. I’ll show you to your room,” Mrs. Hildegard said.

  Autumn followed up the staircase and then down a long, wood-paneled corridor. There were doors to either side, all shut. At the end of the corridor was a slightly smaller door and Mrs. Hildegard took a big keyring from her dress and unlocked it. She pushed it open and it creaked loudly.

  “We haven’t used this level for a while, not since our daughter, Betsy, met her tragic end.”

  Autumn nodded and peered ahead at the narrow staircase rising steeply in front of her.

  “What’s up there?” she said, dreading the answer.

  “Your room,” Mrs. Hildegard said flatly and led the way.

  Autumn had to wipe cobwebs from her face as she followed. They were in almost complete darkness until they reached the top where Mrs. Hildegard hit a switch and a single lightbulb flickered on.

  Autumn’s eyes adjusted and she saw they were on a small landing in the attic. The ceiling above sloped. There was a sofa on one side of the landing and a bookcase on the other. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs. There were also two doors.

  Mrs. Hildegard took out her keyring again and unlocked the door to the right.

  “My room?” Autumn said.

  Mrs. Hildegard nodded as she struggled with the rusty lock.

  “What about the other room?” Autumn said, and she was already nodding because she knew the answer.

  “Betsy’s. Don’t go in there.”

  The bedroom door opened with another loud creak and Autumn shivered as she followed her mistress inside. Another light switch, another flickering bulb.

  The room was sparse. There was a small bed and next to it was a table and a lamp. On the table was a bible and an old clock that didn’t seem to work. Against the back wall was a closet, also small, which was just as well because the slope of the roof didn’t allow for much else. Next to the closet was a desk with a chair, a mirror over the desk. On the other wall was a big dormer window and Autumn imagined she would sit there and read or enjoy the sunshine. The dormer contained a comfortable looking wooden bench with floral cushions scattered along it. There was also a fireplace. Under her feet was a dusty old Persian carpet.

  To the right was a small bathroom with a toilet, a porcelain sink, and an old clawfoot tub.

  Apart from the dust and the stale air the room was nice, like something from a country inn.

  It was creepy, there was no doubt about that. The cobwebs and mousetraps made sure of that much. But it was cozy. Autumn could make something of it. She knew she could.

  “This is it,” Mrs. Hildegard said. “You’ll want to get the fire lit. You’ll freeze soon enough otherwise.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “And be downstairs by five. We get an early start around here.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “If this bell rings,” Mrs. Hildegard said, pointing to an old bell connected to a cable running into the wall, “report at the great hall immediately.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Mrs. Hildegard made to leave, but paused at the door. “And under no circumstances enter Betsy’s room.”

  “No, Mistress.”

  Autumn stood there as Mrs. Hildegard left. She went out to the landing and listened carefully as she climbed down the stairs. She wanted to know if Mrs. Hildegard was locking the door at the bottom. She heard her shut the door but there was no clinking of the lock.

  She sighed in relief and eyed the door to Betsy’s room nervously.

  Had Betsy died in that room?

  She went back into her own room and shut the door behind her. There was wood by the fire and she piled it up and lit it with a match. Very soon, a small fire was burning in the hearth. It would take a while for the room to heat up but it was a start.

  She went into the bathroom and began to undress. She checked the water. There was both hot and cold, she was relieved to discover, and she ran a bath.

  “This is nice,” she said, trying to reassure herself.

  She took off the rest of her clothes and just as she was climbing into the bath, the bell rang.

  Chapter Four

  Grady

  Grady felt a shiver run down his back as he approached the Raven’s Nest. The place looked like an abandoned castle but apparently it was the only decent hotel in town. As he parked outside, he prayed it was open.

  The baby was asleep and he packed her carefully inside his coat before grabbing his bag and opening the door of the car. It had been snowing for the past fifty miles and he knew the wind would be bitterly cold.

  He ran up to the hotel and pushed the door open with a heave. The wind came rushing in after him and he had to force it closed with his back. There was no one at the desk but a big fire burned across the room and he went over to it.

  “So this is our new home,” he whispered to the baby who was still sound asleep.

  The flames danced on the logs and he let the warmth wash over him.

  “Can I help you?” a stern sounding voice said from behind him.

  He turned to see a woman in her sixties with straight white hair and a strong face.

  “My name is Grady Cole,” he said, not quite certain why he was introducing himself to the woman.

  “And I’m Mrs. Hildegard, Mistress of this hotel.”

  “I was hoping you had a room.”

  The lady looked him over from head to toe, her gaze lingering a few seconds extra at his crotch. Grady felt strangely exposed as her eyes devoured him.

  “For a fine man like you, we’ve always got room.”

  The woman yanked a tasseled velvet cord and somewhere far off he thought he heard a bell ring.

  Something about her gave him the creeps. If it hadn’t been so late, and if the road hadn’t been so long and treacherous, he would have considered driving back the way he’d come. He’d chosen the town because it had the same name as his daughter but sentimentality only went so far.

  “You don’t also happen to have a crib, do you?”

  The woman walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of him. She inhaled deeply, as if breathing in his scent.

  “We’ve got it all,” she said in a sultry voice.

  Grady wanted to take a step back but he stood his ground. The woman was wearing a silk, white robe, loosely tied at the waist, and matching silk slippers. He was fairly certain she was naked underneath and as she stood there, her hand moved to the belt as if she was going to give the knot a little tug and open it.

  He pictured the robe falling open, revealing her naked body, and he didn’t know whether the thought aroused or disturbed him.

  “Have you come a long way?” the woman said.

  “Yes, ma’am. Quite a way.”

  “I imagine you’re tired.”

  Grady nodded.

  “I could do something for that,” she said, taking another step toward him.

  She was close enough now that he could have reached out and touched her. In fact, he felt that was exactly what she wanted him to do.

  “I imagine you co
uld,” he said.

  “I could get on my knees right now,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Get on my knees, open those uncomfortable jeans, and take you right into my mouth.”

  Grady looked her steadily in the eye. There was no question she was serious. He’d met a lot of crazy women in his life and this was surely one of them.

  “You say that to all your customers?” he said.

  “Just the ones who look like you.”

  “You mean guys who are holding six-month-old babies?”

  The woman scoffed.

  “The runt won’t notice a thing. I’ll swallow every drop and she’ll sleep right through it.”

  The woman reached out and put her hand on the crotch of his jeans. Despite the surreal circumstances, he felt himself stiffen as her hand gripped his manhood.

  “You called, Mistress?” a voice asked timidly from the staircase.

  Instantly the woman let go and stepped back.

  Grady smiled.

  “Caught in the act,” he said to her as his gaze went to the stairs.

  “Just keep my offer in mind. Every single drop.”

  Grady might have kept her offer in mind if it hadn’t been for the sight waiting him on the staircase. There, halfway up, was a young girl, she couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen, standing against the bannister. She wore a plain black cotton dress that came to just above her knee. She wasn’t smiling but she had the face of someone who smiled often. Her hair fell over her shoulders and framed her startlingly pretty face.

  As if her beauty had snapped him back to reality, he took a step away from Mrs. Hildegard and cleared his throat.

  “Where have you been, you stupid girl?” Mrs. Hildegard said. “Take this man’s bag to room seven.”

  Grady watched her come down the rest of the steps and hurry to grab his bag.

  “That’s okay, Miss,” he said to the girl. “It’s heavy.”

  “She’ll manage,” the old lady said.

  Grady didn’t feel right letting such a small girl carry his luggage for him. Instead he handed her the baby.

  “You take the child,” he said.