Freedom's Treasure (4 page)

Hunter patted his pockets. “Not on me. Got your cell handy?” He reeled off his number and watched her program it into her phone. “Now call me,” he grinned. She did as instructed and he stored her number as well.

He walked her to her truck, gave her directions to the grocery store and watched her drive away with the stirrings of a sense of anticipation.

Two hours later Anna hauled the last of her groceries and
general supplies into the cabin. She’d made use of several of the local shops and had spent a good deal more than she’d anticipated but she’d had fun shopping.

She realized that she’d just be heading home from work had she still been in Grand Rapids. Her fingers twitched for a keyboard and she powered up her laptop and set it out on the little table on the deck. While it booted Anna put the last few items away, changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt and brewed a pot of decaf coffee with her new coffeemaker. It wasn’t a one cup brewer but it would do until she picked one up.

She pulled up her journal and tried to put her thoughts down but found she couldn’t settle. Anna’s gaze was being drawn toward the road and bounced around other areas of the property. Maybe a walk was in order.

The sun was starting its slow descent so she grabbed a flashlight and a light jacket while she put a pair of hiking boots on in deference to the mud she’d seen earlier. Before she left the deck she went back inside for a plastic bag which she shoved in her pocket.

The quiet was unsettling to someone who’d been hearing traffic and sirens consistently for years. Anna had heard people say the silence is too loud and she’d never understood it until right at this moment. She felt it as a pressure on her ear drums but as she walked she realized it wasn’t actually quiet, just a different kind of noisiness than in town.

A chainsaw hummed far off in the woods, birds chirped, leaves rustled, her feet made crunching sounds as she walked over years of dead leaves, small sticks and the weeds with fronds that were the version of grass here in her new domain. She liked that word, domain. It had several contexts that could work here. She bounced it around a few times and decided she could play with it on her blog, which reminded her she needed to pick up a signal booster for her cell phone. She could connect her laptop to the internet through the new device and she loved it though it had been more expensive than she liked to spend on a mobile.

Occasionally stooping to pick up smaller sticks and putting them in the bag to start her first fire, Anna made her way to the road and looked left, then right. She hadn’t heard a single car go by since she’d gotten here. She reminded herself that was what she’d intended when she moved here, fewer distractions. Still she found it slightly eerie.

She chose to go right since she’d come from the left when she’d returned from town. Anna thought she’d look for the property marker and turn back when she reached it. Obviously as she was on the road she had no fear of getting lost but she wanted enough daylight to start a fire so this would be a short exploration. She’d picked up some hotdogs and thought roasting them would be a fun first dinner.

Anna saw a flash of color just off the dirt road and curiosity had her pace increasing. She crossed a bridge over a stream and a clearing appeared. She approached and saw two gravestones with American flags on either side. Between them was a stand with an informational sheet.

“Is this… yes, the grave of Nathan Lucas!” with pleasure Anna grabbed her phone and toggled up the camera. She quickly snapped a few pictures of Nathan’s gravestone making sure she got several close shots. The stone was old enough that the dates were nearly worn away though the name was clearly visible. Across the top of the stone lay several coins, shiny quarters and dimes with a few pennies sprinkled in. A tiny G.I. Joe Infantry figure stood guard, its gun pointed toward the road and any intruders who may appear. Anna was charmed.

She stepped to her right and read the informational packet about Nathan. He’d served heroically, of course, and come home to raise a family after the surrender of the South. No explanation was given for why he was buried here instead of in the family plot located near town. Anna found that curious. She’d have to go to the Historical Society and ask.

The stone to the right had similar coins atop and flags to either side. No army guy here, she noted. Over time the elements had worn away all information so the stone became merely a marker. Anna’s heart broke for the figure buried beneath this lush bit of grass. She patted her jacket pockets and found a few coins. She placed them with the others on both stones.

She scrolled through the pictures she’d taken and was satisfied though she wondered how the area looked in the brightness of a noonday sun instead of the hazy gold of a spring sunset.

The sound of the stream brought Anna from her reverie and she followed the gentle babbling. It meandered its way through the woods and Anna walked slowly, lost in thought. She’d always found water soothing, had wanted a house on a beach for as long as she could remember, and this was no different. She let her thoughts drift and when she judged herself even with the cabin she turned right and decided to go through the woods.

There was more than enough sunlight remaining that she left her flashlight in her pocket. A flash caught her eye and disappeared again. Anna angled her walk in the direction she’d seen it and relaxed her eyes. She knew the harder she looked the less likely it would be she’d see whatever it was again. There! She saw the flash again and changed her course.

Leaves and sticks had been flattened in an odd, perfect circle. Anna examined the ground and saw what had caught her eye. A metal tent stake pushed nearly flush with the earth. A few feet away she saw a shovel, the blade coated with dirt and beginning to rust after prolonged exposure to the elements. She debated picking the shovel up, carrying it back with her. One never knows when a shovel will come in handy, she thought and then she left it where it lay for now. Anna would be back here again, she knew.

She set the bag of sticks she’d collected in the center of the circle and, starting from there, worked her way out looking for other signs of previous human occupation. Whoever had been here hadn’t been very neat or they’d left in a hurry. She found candy wrappers, a few pop cans and a broken pair of headphones. She picked it all up, being eco-conscious, and put it in the bag. She’d dispose of it when she got back to the cabin.

Anna played with several theories of what could have happened here in the deep woods forcing someone to leave behind a shovel and other detritus. Most were innocent, a camping trip ended quickly due to rain but others were far less so. She flirted with several ideas she could use for the start of the book she intended to write but didn’t get far when several movie franchises flashed through her head. It was the thought of the Friday the 13
th
movies that got her feet moving back to the cabin again. Today was not the day she wanted to bump into Jason with a machete or something equally vile.

Anna kept her arm, and thus her sleeve, over her nose and mouth as she placed fans she’d found under the stairs in windows, one near the front door and one near the back. After a ridiculous amount of trial and error she’d managed to light a fire in the pit but it had been smoky and smelly. The hotdogs she’d been enthusiastic about had charred on the outside and were raw inside and the stick she’d used to roast them had caught flame several times.
While waving it to put the flames out she’d launched the one good hotdog she’d roasted nearly to the road.

In self-defense she’d gone inside to grab a granola bar or something and discovered that all the smoke had gone into the cabin and, she figured, no further. The place stank. She set the fans up and sat on the deck, staring down at the cursed fire. This wasn’t going how she’d planned.

Once she aired the place out, Anna figured she’d give up for the day and go to bed. This would need to go into her journal but if she waited until morning, perhaps it would seem humorous as opposed to humiliating. Who couldn’t start a fire? Wasn’t it one of Man’s most basic instincts? Cavemen did it with rocks and she couldn’t with a can of lighter fluid and matches. She may have admitted defeat today but she vowed to do better next time.

A light breeze kicked up and she could smell the smoke in her hair. With a light curse she went to the bathroom and started warming the shower up. Maybe her shampoo could mask the smell in this room, at least.

She took her time in the hot shower. It was cold outside and she realized she had a slight chill. She’d have to turn the fans off soon or she’d freeze herself out of the cabin. Frustrated once more with her fire starting abilities, she kneaded shampoo into her hair for the third time and swore she wouldn’t think about it.

As the lather sluiced down her body she put her hands to the wall and hung her head so the spray beat upon her neck. Her eyes closed and she wondered what it would feel like to have Hunter’s broad hands trailing the bubbles from her head to her toes.

He’d be gentle, she thought, and just a bit rough with the calluses on his hands. She imagined he’d play with a woman’s body, stroking and teasing. His eyes would flash with hunger when she ran her hands over the muscles of his arms, chest and thighs. She’d reach for him and…

Anna started laughing, nearly choking on the water streaming into her face. She’d almost forgotten the harsh truth revealed when he’d stood nude before her from his stolen shower. The mood broken, she twisted the knobs for the shower and decided it was time for bed.

Three hours later Anna stared up into the d
ark. She cataloged the different reasons most likely to be behind why she couldn’t sleep. She was exhausted but her brain wouldn’t be quiet. Different scenes from her life flashed through on short visits like a slideshow on speed. Each brought its own emotion and it was further wearing her out. With a huff she turned to her side. She couldn’t see the large window but knew it was there.

Anna closed her eyes and brought it to mind. The window was a large rectangle taking up most of the wall in the loft. Outside of it were trees, hundreds or thousands of them, all with leaves that rustled in the late night breeze. Branches would be swaying in the light wind and nocturnal animals would be out doing whatever it was they did in the woods late at night. Anna cringed to think of it. Owls were cute, though, and surely there were owls out there. Then again, owls liked to swoop down and eat mice and things so how cute could they be? She shivered.

Her thoughts went to the campsite in the woods. She’d write a story in her head, she decided, and if it clicked for her she’d put it into the laptop tomorrow. Writing a short story or two would help her get into gear for a book, she thought, and visualized the scene.

A family of four, she decided, dad, mom and their 2.5 kids out for their first family campout. They’d bring along the family dog, probably a golden retriever named Sandy, and they’d make S’mores over a campfire. A storm bursts from nowhere, drenching the family and they run laughing into the tent to tell ghost stories and jokes before closing their eyes for the night.

And that’s when Jason would arrive, she thought, or Freddy Kruger, or, oh God, Michael Myers and not the one from the Shrek movies. It was the mental image of Shrek with a machete that finally got her out of bed. No way would she be able to sleep, not right now at least.

Anna carefully made her way down the curved stairs, thankful she’d left the light above the stove on. It was beneath the loft so hadn’t been shining where she lay and now she wished it had been. She hadn’t used a nightlight since she turned 12 but perhaps it was time to invest in a new one.

She struck a key and brought her laptop out of sleep mode. She’d downloaded several movies and tonight would be a good time to watch one. Her eyes landed on the clock in the corner of the screen. 2:27 a.m. In an attempt to keep as far from slasher movies as she could, Anna loaded
The Sound of Music.
She wrapped a fleece blanket around her legs and settled on the plaid couch. It was going to be a long night.   

Hunter lay on his back in bed with his fingers locked behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t get comfortable and sleep was elusive. His mind strayed to his new renter and guilt tickled his stomach. There were things he should have told her about the Lucas place, he thought, things she should know before she started putting down stakes.

He kicked the covers so one leg lay free of the smothering weight
and leaving his other leg and waist covered. How would she react when he told her about the history of violence in the woods around the Lucas place? Treasure hunters obsessed with the Civil War came to their town every so often, talking about rumors of gold and jewels. They’d camp in the woods for a night or two and then go away again to return when they felt they had more information, more money, partners they trusted, whatever.