I was a sucker. “All right. Let’s go!”
With a short, excited yip, he leapt from the open passenger-side window and hit the ground running. When he got to me, his tail was held high and sweeping back and forth in joy for including him on my little search.
“I swear you’re just as obsessed with the man as I am, traitor,” I muttered to him under my breath. As I continued to move, Timber circled me quickly, then followed closely on my heels.
I headed around to the front of the cabin, and when I didn’t find Chase on the rustic covered porch, I climbed those steps and knocked on that door, too.
Timber sat at my side as I waited, looking back and forth from me to the door, as if he was saying, “Just open the door, fool. What are we waiting for?”
“Well,” I answered him quietly, “if the man bought a shotgun or rifle on my recommendation, I really don’t want to get blown away. How about you?”
Timber glanced up at me, licked his chops and I swear gave me a nod in agreement.
I sighed.
Having complete conversations with my dog was nothing new. It happened a lot since I lived alone.
Correction. Timber and I lived alone.
I’d probably be lonely if I didn’t have him as my constant companion.
Huh.
I shoved a stray thought away and after pounding on the wood door again, I heard dead silence.
Chase wasn’t inside. As I turned to scan the immediate area for some signs of him, I noticed the woodshed stuffed full of firewood, as well as some neatly stacked in piles closer to the cabin and along the sides of the lean-to.
I also spotted a downed tree had been chain-sawed into much more manageable sections and piled next to the stump Chase had been using to split wood.
Timber and I might be slightly obsessed with Chase but Chase seemed to be obsessed with wood. Since he wasn’t around to see it, I didn’t bother to smother my grin over the childish joke that ran through my head about the man and his wood.
I scanned the area again. The blue sky was vibrant today, with only a lone white puffy cloud in the distance near the top of the mountain that rose beyond Eagles Lake. Birds were chirping and chattering and doing whatever birds did during the day, the light spring breeze was warm against my skin and the sun reflected off the still water.
I frowned.
I was wrong. The water wasn’t still. It had a dark spot moving through the water with ripples following behind. A turtle? A beaver? Ol’ Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster?
“Let’s go,” I ordered Timber, keeping my eyes on whatever was swimming toward shore. Whatever it was still had a ways to go before it reached land.
Coming off the porch, I walked the half length of a football field between the lake and the cabin with Timber eagerly trotting by my side.
That was when I saw it. A towel thrown over the back of a lone plastic Adirondack chair sitting at the water’s edge. I could picture Chase sitting in the chair and using it for quiet reflection or even an inspiring place to write.
That made me think that I should find a special spot in nature to sit and write, too. The fresh air might do me some good rather than writing all day in the back corner of the store. A change of scenery might give me some fresh ideas.
Timber’s whine drew my attention. He was watching the moving object come closer, then he let out a sharp cry and began to dance along the muddy and rocky shoreline.
I narrowed my eyes and looked closer at what clearly wasn’t a turtle.
When that “object”—consisting of two eyes, shaggy dark hair, and a beard—lifted from the water, my breath seized.
Just the person I came to see. Didn’t he know about all the dangers in lakes like these? And, worse, he was swimming by himself.
I was only glad that Timber didn’t like water, otherwise my traitorous dog wouldn’t have waited and would’ve taken the plunge to meet his new best friend halfway.
I shook my head, then simply breathed when Chase was finally close enough to the shore and at a place he could touch the bottom.
I choked on my own spit as he emerged from the water and continued to approach us as it got more and more shallow. As I swallowed, my Adam’s apple got stuck on the way up and after a second finally dropped like a rocket returning to Earth.
The man was completely naked.
Bare-assed naked.
A bare bear.
My brain began to glitch like a short-circuited electrical wire.
He walked out of the water like a freaking king with not one ounce of embarrassment, his gaze on me not faltering with each step he took.