She did her best to push the thoughts of the man from her mind and resume her search for the basket, but a queer thing occurred to her then: there was no sign of her basket. Even tho
ugh she was darn certain of where she’d dropped it… nothing.
She couldn’t give up so easily though, and she started to search around, down closer to the creek. There she saw somethin’, a clue at least. On the other side she could see some wetness on the rocks, footprints marked in dampness that led up the other incline.
Maybe the fella found her basket and took it with him?
That was good enough reason to climb the rocks across the creek and investigate, wasn’t it?
Whether it was or wasn’t, she did just that. Holdin’ up her plain, pale blue dress as she scampered across the rocks to go lookin’ for the man.
It didn’t take long before the sound of devil music caught her ears. And drew her in.
Through the woods the music bellowed, loud, heavy soundin’, not at all like anythin’ she was accustomed to. She searched it out, followed slowly after the source, until the aroma of meat cookin’ arose too, and then she found it…
A strange sight indeed. It was some big, black vehicle, shiny and pristine lookin’, like the ones she saw on her odd trip to town with her pa, but nothin’ like it all the same. It looked more intimidatin’, fancier. And behind it was parked a curious metal home, perched on wheels and attached to the back of the vehicle.
Then, there he was.
He stood there in the midday sun, short-sleeved shirt on, opened up and showin’ off his broad, hard chest as he drank from some glass bottle. The smell of roastin’ meat came from the barbecue the man had set up, and once again he had the better of her.
“You’re just in time for a bite,” he said to her, casual as anythin’, as if he’d been expecting her all along.
“My basket?” she muttered out, apparently losing all her ability to form sentences or even thoughts. Her mind was clouded with panic, with temptation. She swallowed hard, shaking her head as if that’d free some of her thoughts up. “I’m looking for my basket?”
He looked her over, head tilted as he so casually sized her up. He took a swig from his bottle and flipped a piece of meat on the grill.
“Yeah I got it, sweetie. Got those mushrooms you were picking too. A few of them are on the grill as we speak,” he said with a wry smile, tapping the mushrooms with his spatula. “If you want the basket back though…” his broad, bare chest heaved with a sigh, “you’re gonna have to sit and stay a spell. Nothin’ comes free darling. And I could use some company.”
Her back stiffened, eyes widened as she looked first at the grill, then at him. Her pa’d be so upset if she didn’t have the basket, and now he was... blackmailing her?
Worse than that. He was tempting her.
She tried to think of what her father, what the Bishop would say, but all she could think about was that throbbing piece of flesh she’d glimpsed the day before.
It was like she was fixated on it, unable to cure her mind of such a sight.
“I really just would like my basket,” she pleaded, taking a step towards him. “I’m not to talk to outsiders.”
He stood his ground quietly, laid his bottle on the side of the grill and eyed her up and down with a narrowed gaze.
“Sweet thing, I’d really just like to bed a beautiful lady like you, but we don’t always get what we want. Not without workin’ for it at least. And you,” he said, pointing the spatula at her before flipping the meat on the grill some more, “need to work for it. Besides, it’s about meal time, aren’t you hungry?” He asked, hooking his thumb into his jeans waist, letting them sink down another inch lower, bringing her view so tantalizingly close to the forbidden sight she’d glimpsed the day before.
She couldn’t help but follow that line, hunger for the forbidden thing beneath. And it was too late when her eyes darted back up to him. She could tell by his grin he’d caught her staring.
His words registered to her a moment too late, and her lips fell open, her hand covering her ample chest in shock. “That’s a sinful thing to say.”
“More sinful to do,” he responded so glibly, pointing to the table and chairs he had set up out in the open. “But oh so good. Now sit yourself down, pretty girl. What’s the name anyhow? I’m Jake, by the way.”
He went about his business so calmly, completely unperturbed by the situation as he served up the meat on a plate, with mushrooms and what looked like ‘taters on the side.
She was starving, her stomach turning but she didn’t know if she could eat. Not with the way those butterflies were flappin’ around in there, her nervousness and excitement growing as she took a step nearer him. She wanted to run, to flee, and to pretend she’d never seen him.
But more than that, she wanted to see much, much more of him.
And so she sat in the chair, cautiously.
He turned and looked at her as he finished serving up the food. “Good girl,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice. Though a strange thing caught her sight from behind him; he carried a handgun tucked into the back of his jeans, almost hidden by his shirt, but not quite.