the trees she harvested to only those she could drag through the woods herself.
Though she was behind schedule, Lucy was certain that once her body got used to the specific labors involved, she’d pick up speed.
Her only companion in this adventure, her dog, Riley, was stretched out beside her on the old iron bed. When she sat up, he lifted his head. “I’d sleep much better if you’d stay on your side,” she muttered. He gave her a soft woof then leaped over her and scurried to the door.
She crawled out of bed, wrapping the old quilt around her to ward off the chill, then opened the front door of the cabin. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the amazing landscape around her. To the west were mountains—high, craggy, snow-covered peaks. To the east, thick forest and the foothills. The closest town was Stone Creek, twenty miles away by air, but hours by vehicle and foot. She’d come to the cabin via a helicopter that had landed in the wide green meadow to the south, a meadow now painted in the watercolor hues of the first wildflowers of the season.
Riley scratched at the screen door and she opened it. He ran out and she followed at a more leisurely pace. She’d put her watch away and sealed it in an old baking-powder tin, allowing her body to dictate the hours of the day. When she was hungry, she ate. When she was tired, she slept. And when it was time to work, she focused all her energy to push herself harder than she’d ever been pushed. She loved it.
Lucy drew a deep breath of the crisp morning air. Her year in the wild promised to be both a personal and a professional challenge, and she relished the chance to prove herself. She’d bounced around from job to job in television production for years, picking up jobs where she could and making enough to put herself through college. She’d read Trudie’s books when she was a teenager and had dreamed of a life spent alone, with nothing but her strength and wits to sustain her.
An offhand conversation with another producer had resulted in a proposal for a new reality show. She’d spend a year in the wilderness, following in the footsteps of famous feminist Trudie Montgomery. Amazingly, her proposal had been accepted, a production budget had been secured and on April first, Lucy had been left in the meadow with Riley and twenty crates of supplies to get her through the next twelve months.
All she had to do was provide at least fifteen hours of video footage per week, chronicling her efforts to survive in the wilderness, recording her thoughts on Trudie, her feminist ideals and the challenges she’d faced. Meanwhile, the producers were working to sell the series to a network.
Lucy had been given a battery-operated two-way radio to call for help in case of an emergency, a laptop computer with a satellite uplink to upload her video footage each week and a generator to charge both the video camera and laptop.
Figuring it should be charged now, she walked back inside and grabbed the video camera, then sat down on the top porch step and turned it toward herself. Pushing the record button, she smiled. “Hooray, hooray, it’s the third of May. I’ve been on the mountain for exactly one month and today, I’m going to have a visitor. Annalise Montgomery, Trudie’s daughter, has agreed to stop by once a month to check up on me and bring me a few supplies. And to chat with us. Those of you who’ve read Trudie’s books know that Trudie’s friend and lover, Buck Garrison, used to stop by every month with necessities, but there will be no men visiting me.”
Rachel McFarlane and Anna Conners, her two producers, had decided that the entire project, from production on down, should be run by women. The pair had produced an award-winning PBS special on the all-women’s America’s Cup racing crew several years before and were certain that it would be a positive message to send to the public and a good way to market the show to the networks when it came time to sell it.
“What do I need?” Lucy continued. “A few extra lanterns for the very dark mountain nights. Another pair of long underwear. Some heavier socks. And a new washboard to do laundry. I could also use some chocolate, but I didn’t put that on my list as I’ve decided to go cold turkey.” She paused. “Turkey. I’d also love a turkey sandwich. Canned meat has already lost its appeal.”
Riley’s bark caught her attention and Lucy trained the lens on the meadow, hoping to catch Annalise as she approached. In the distance, she made out a lone figure moving toward her. She tried to make out the details of Annalise’s face, then sucked in a sharp breath.
It wasn’t the slender figure of Annalise, but a tall, lanky man who approached. She noticed the rifle slung over his shoulder. He also carried a large frame pack, yet moved as if it weighed nothing.
Lucy had been in the wilderness for an entire month and this was the first visitor she’d had. Though she felt a small measure of excitement, this wasn’t the person she’d expected. Calling for Riley, she motioned the dog to her side and he sat down, his attention now fixed on the stranger. As the man approached the cabin, Lucy observed him more closely.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, wearing hiking shorts and boots, a faded T-shirt, sunglasses and a cap that shaded his eyes. Thick, dark hair curled out from under the cap and the shadow of a beard darkened his face.
A tiny tremor raced through her. There was a reason why the production company had hired Annalise Montgomery to make the monthly visits, beyond the show’s premise. After a month of solitude, a single man—hell, any man—caused a riot of unsettling feelings inside of her, even if he might be a backwoods ax murderer.
Lucy suddenly realized how vulnerable she was, out here all alone. She set the camera down and grabbed the rifle from its spot just inside the door. Nestling the butt into her shoulder, she got the man in her sights. “Stop right there,” she shouted across the twenty yards that separated them. Riley growled softly.
Startled, he did as he was ordered, slowly raising his hands and watching her suspiciously. “Are you really planning to use that?” he shouted.
“I will if I have to.”
“Then nestle the stock into your shoulder and raise the muzzle up. Unless your intended target is the dirt five feet in front of me. Don’t tell me they didn’t even teach you to shoot properly.”
“What are you doing here?”
“The more appropriate question,” he muttered, starting toward her again, “would be what are you doing here?” He dropped his hands to the straps on his pack and hooked his thumbs beneath them.
She narrowed her gaze. “Who are you?”
“Annalise sent me,” he said. “I’ve brought some supplies. And I guess I’m supposed to make sure you haven’t done anything stupid, like starve to death or get eaten by a bear. You look healthy and I don’t see any teeth marks, so I assume you’re all right so far?”
Lucy stifled a smile as she set the gun down beside her. She stepped off the porch, suddenly curious about the man who’d wandered into her orbit. He slipped the pack off his back, then stretched his arms above his head. Then, in one smooth movement, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and used it to wipe the perspiration from his face.
Lucy bit back a moan as she took in his finely muscled chest and impossibly sculpted abdomen. Her fingers twitched as she imagined running her hands over the tanned skin, pressing her lips to the smooth expanse of naked skin.
This was crazy. She’d gone far longer than a month without a man in her life before. Why was she reacting so strongly to this guy now? Yes, he was gorgeous. And she hadn’t had any human contact for a month. But she should be able to control her reactions much better than this.
He
