Page 29 of Wild in the Woods
He strolled to the porch with a mug of coffee in one hand. Osprey darted past him and stopped at Lulu’s feet, butt wiggling, waiting to be petted. She looked down at the dog, hesitated, then patted three fingers on top of the dog’s head. Pat, pat.
Well, it was something.
“I’m here,” she said cheerfully. The pack leaned to one side, taking her with it. She stumbled, corrected herself. Barely.
“Obviously. Want coffee?”
He was glad she’d shown up and that was an uncomfortable and confusing realization. Sleep hadn’t been an easy feat last night because his brain kept rolling over her flat-out rejection to his bid for a wedding date, followed by an enticing game of, ‘will she show up tomorrow or won’t she’? Here she was and his heart raced. Even in olive green hiking pants with pockets down the legs, a long sleeve pink tee shirt and a lightweight down jacket, she looked polished and put together. Maybe it was the small golden hoops in her ears, or the intricate twist she’d done with her hair. She wore mascara, lipstick and the whole nine yards. He was so tempted to tell her that she’d be bathing in a lake and wouldn’t have access to a mirror or a hairdryer for seven days.
Nah, he’d let her figure it out. It would be more fun that way.
“Yes, caffeinate me, please.”
“Drop your gear on the porch and come in. We’ve got some paperwork to go over.”
He may have tidied up late last night in preparation for her arrival. Normally, he had his students sit out back around the fire pit and complete the paperwork on clipboards. But since it was just the two of them, he had to whittle down his process. He may have also wondered what it would feel like to have her in his personal space.
The soles of her brand-new hiking boots squeaked on the hardwood floors. Did she realize how many blisters she was going to get wearing those things? She needed well broken-in shoes and wool hiking socks. She hadn’t taken the time to read the ‘student information’ section on his website or she would have known that.
He eyed her briefly. Weren’t reporters supposed to dig around and know everything? He clearly spelled out that students needed supple, breathable clothing and comfortable boots or hiking sneakers. She’d learn that the hard way, too.
“Oh, this is very aesthetic.”
She glanced around his cabin, and it pleased him that she liked what she saw. Another strange realization. It was just a cabin. Nothing special, really.
“I love the exposed beams in the ceiling. And the hanging cage lighting is great. It’s like something out of a country magazine.”
It… is?
Most of his furniture was second hand. The cast iron, industrial style drops lights came out of an old warehouse in town. His mom made the cream-colored muslin curtains. And the braided rugs in the entry, living room, and beneath the kitchen table had belonged to his grandma, bless her soul.
“My uncle Rowen sold me thirty acres along the river for a hell of a family discount. He helped me build the cabin. Finished up a couple years ago.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“I would have never figured a place this rustic would be your style.”
She snapped him a look. “People are doing a bang-up job making assumptions about me.”
“Noted,” he said and gestured to the kitchen table. He pulled a chair out for her. Then he busied himself pouring her a mug of coffee. When he turned back around, he found Osprey curled up at Lulu’s feet with an expression that dared him to tell her to go lay on her pillow in the living room.
Osprey was not allowed in the kitchen, but clearly, today was boundary-testing day. He let it slide and took a seat across from Lulu and slid her a thin packet of papers.
“Read through this, sign where marked. Basically, these say that you agree to follow my rules without question and won’t sue me if you get hurt doing something stupid.”
“That sounds intense.”
He shrugged. “I’m going to teach you how to survive in the wilderness, but my number one priority is keeping you safe and alive along the way. My students have to obey my rules, or I can’t do that properly.”
She flipped through the pages and signed where appropriate.
“This states that you’re free to drop out of the course at any time; however, you must wait until I arrange safe transport for you back to town before you leave camp. No wandering off on your own.”
“Sounds fair.”
“And this right here? This is what everyone comes here to achieve. The last day of the course includes you finding your way back to the main camp, which is here–” he pointed on the map, “to test what you’ve learned and utilize your skills. Once you’ve successfully completed that, you’ve completed the course and earned your certificate.”
Her eyes narrowed in amusement. “There’s a certificate?”
