Page 2 of Her Grumpy Lumberjack

“I’m not, I’m being realistic.”

I roll my eyes, but I smile as Megan helps me carry my luggage out of the apartment and into my car.

“Text me when you get there, okay?” she says, looking a little frantic as I clamber into the driver’s seat. “And remember what I said about getting enough supplies!”

“Yep, I remember. Eat food, drink water, don’t get eaten, don’t die.” I grin at her. “Simple.”

Megan groans. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to stay?” She throws her hands up in frustration. “Who needs the woods anyway? In the city we have…we have DoorDash! And Dunkin’ Donuts. Screw it, just forget the whole thing and let’s go get some donuts, okay? I’ll drive.”

I give her a teasing smile. “Are you done? Because I’m going now.”

My sister sighs, and after a few more anxious instructions and several promises to be careful, I finally wave goodbye and drive away, watching her disappear in my rearview mirror.

It doesn’t take long for the scenery outside my car to change. Excitement thrums through me as the mountains loom closer, the strip malls and concrete of the city giving way to jagged peaks and wild forests as I enter Crave County. It’s the most beautiful county in Colorado, full of quaint mountain towns and breathtaking landscapes. According to the map, Aunt Carol’s cabin is nestled right in the heart of the county, just outside the small town of Cherry Hollow.

After four hours on the road, I finally pass an old wooden sign:

Welcome to Cherry Hollow

The Heart of Crave County

Established: 1886

Population: 1974

“Wow,” I gasp as I drive down the historic main street, gawking at the cozy storefronts. I’ve never seen such a pretty town. It looks like something out of a movie, and I gaze around eagerly, trying to take it all in. Part of me wants to get out and explore, but the cabin is calling, so I drive into the woods that surround the town, following several winding dirt paths until my car is engulfed by trees. My cellphone can’t help me now; I’m relying on handwritten instructions and an old map. But it’s fun. It feels like an adventure.

My heart starts to flutter the closer I get. I can already picture it: a fairy tale log cabin, rustic and adorable and all mine.

Nearly there…

Just a little farther…

Then I see it.

I slam on the brakes and stare. My mouth falls open and my heart sinks to the ground.

“Oh boy.” I suck in a breath. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.”

I hate to say it, but Megan was right.

It’s not a cabin. It’s a shack in the woods.

A falling-down, holey-roofed shack in the woods. It looks totally abandoned. Vines are crawling up the log walls, throttling the cabin as if the forest is trying to reclaim it. The windows are coated in grime, so dirty they look almost black. One of them is jagged and broken, jutting like a sharp tooth.

It looks more ‘Blair Witch’ than Disney.

Maybe it looks better on the inside?

Half-heartedly, I get out of the car, breathing in the scent of pine and earth as I walk toward the cabin. The front door creaks open and I wince at the noise, stepping inside. The main room is bare, aside from a pile of leaves that have blown in through the cracked window. There’s a tiny bathroom with a toilet and sink, but no water, and a rickety ladder leading to the attic. I don’t dare to climb it. Instead, I head back out of the cabin and circle it from the outside, chewing on my lip.

Maybe if I stare at it long enough, it will somehow get…better?

“HEY!”

I nearly jump out of my skin as a rumbling voice pierces the silence of the forest. My heart pounds as I whirl around, adrenaline flooding my body.

“THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY!” the voice calls again, deep and commanding. I squint through the dense branches surrounding me, looking for the speaker, my mouth dry.

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