The Cabin

Jim is the local mechanic at "The Shop" a general mechanic garage in his home town. Most people liked him, his co-workers said he was a swell guy, but they all wondered why he never showed interest in the girls who came through the shop. He payed their wonderings no heed, for he had a secret that gave him good reason to not chase skirts. He was a married man, not that anybody else knew.

Wiping his hands clean in the shop sink, he made sure to clean the days grim from his nails. Jim knew she would give him a ribbing if he didn't. Paul came by the sink and nudged him out of the way.

"Hey me and the painters are heading to the pub for a pint or two, you in?"

Jim could only smile and shake his head.

"Sorry Paul, I've almost got that sled running, and I really want to get it done before the next storm. Maybe next time?"

Paul shrugged.

"If that sled blows up in the middle of nowhere on you again, there may not be a next time. You should have night with the guys sometime, finally tell us how you managed to survive for three days in that blizzard. Some say you're just a spirit, come back to haunt us..."

Laughing, Paul wiped his hands dry and clapped Jim on the shoulder.

"Might even be true, you're too nice to haunt us. You'd probably come back and organize the shop overnight like you used to do sometimes."

Jim just smiled ruefully then tipped his hat to the guys coming from the paint booth. He liked them all well enough, but he had much more fun matters to attend to at home.

"I'll tell you all about it someday, but today is not that day. Safe travels boys!"

With that, he made his way out to the trusty rusty dodge in the parking lot of the shop. With a side trip to the grocery store, he was on his way home.

He cast his thoughts back to that fateful storm, the power of the wind and driving snow. It hadn't felt like a normal storm though, not to Jim. It somehow felt desperate, like a feeling of loneliness calling out from it.

Looking through the face shield of his helmet, he wondered why he was out in the storm. Something called to him, but what could possibly be out in the woods for him to find? This trail wasn't familiar to him at all, surprising since he'd been riding the surrounding area of his town for over twenty years.

At 27 years young, he knew he wasn't invincible, causing him to pat his pocket to double check he had his phone still. The trees were getting thick, closing in on the trail while providing a much needed buffer from the wind. The skis of his sled barely fit between each trunk, forcing him to continue forwards into the unfamiliar woods. Curious he thought, the trees were so uniform like the trail had been there for years, but they lacked the scars in the bark that would come from skis rubbing and cutting into them.

He glanced down at the fuel gauge. Nodding he was satisfied that it read a little over half a tank, still plenty to turn around and get back to town.

It was slow going, but eventually the wind lessened, and the trail started to widen. *Did the storm stop so suddenly?* he asked himself. Just then, he saw smoke rising a ways off in the distance. That was surprising, for he didn't remember there being any camps this far out of town, and he was the first tracks on this trail that he could tell in quite some time.

Looking towards the sky he could see it was still very overcast, dark and dreary. No way to tell the time until he stopped to check his phone. Pressing on, the trail seemed to be leading him towards the smoke, which could only be another couple miles by his estimations.

Lost in thought, he failed to notice the little orange light on the dash of his sled blink on, then out again as the bulb failed. Had he seen this light, he may have been able to save the poor engine. By the time he noticed the power dying off, it was too late, the engine rpms died down despite him jamming the throttle open. *"nonononono this is not good. Not here, oh why now!"* He thought desperately as the engine died completely.

He sat there for a few long moments, the sudden silence seemingly deafening inside his helmet. With a sigh, Jim popped the hood and instantly saw the problem. It was hard to miss the reflective surface of the oil pooled in the belly pan of the sled. The oil feed line poked up towards him, clearly disconnected from the oil tank. It just stood there, like a proud middle finger. Cursing, he put the hood back down.

*"Guess it's time to call Paul...."* his thoughts trailed off as he looked at his phone screen. The words "no service" proudly displayed in the the corner where his four bars of service should be. Gathering his extra gloves and hat from the back of the sled, he traded the hat for the helmet and left the helmet sitting on the handlebars. He placed some sticks on the ground in front of the sled pointing in the direction of the smoke, indicating to anybody who followed his tracks where he had gone. With the temperature dropping, and night time surely not far off, he knew the source of the smoke may be his only chance for survival.

Jim thanked his mother silently for the warm balaclava and neck warmer currently protecting his nose and mouth from the wind. It had been a late Christmas present, but in this situation, it certainly fit the old saying his family loved of "better late than never!"

The snow sucked at his boots, the knee deep snow making for very slow going. Focusing on steady movements and consistent movement, he managed to keep his heart rate in check. In a situation like this, sweat was his enemy, he couldn't afford to soak his thermal clothing trying to walk. The trees slipped by as time passed, the curls of smoke sometimes impossible to see with the wind gusting. Doubt had began to set in, what if the trail didn't lead him to the source? What would he do then? He quickly squashed the panic welling up inside him, panicking is what would kill him faster than the exposure would.

Stopping to catch his breath and look up, he confirmed that he was much closer to the smoke when he caught sight of the now hope filling tendrils. It was hard to stand in the woods, so isolated and alone, and not take in the raw beauty of Mother Nature. That was until he heard branches cracking and snow being disturbed somewhere off to his left.

Living in the remote parts of Maine, Jim knew the animals that would be in the woods this time of the year. Thankfully it wasn't bear, they were all hibernating. But that didn't ease his mind since the next contestant could be a moose, no less formidable and deadly than a bear.

Taking a few seconds to steel the nerves that were now firing in overdrive, Jim prepared to make the final mad dash to his goal.

Watching him from a few trees away, the yeti made sure to rustle a few more branches, grinning as she smelled his adrenaline spike and cause him to dash off along the trail as fast as the snow would allow him. Satisfied that her part of the plan "operation cutie" was complete, she slipped quietly off into the woods towards her cave, where her husband was waiting with dinner cooking.

Jim just about made number two as he heard the branches move just behind him. That was all the urging his body needed as he took off charging through the snow, leaving a trail that any animal would be happy to follow. His breath was making huge clouds as he ran, steam trailing off his neck and hat like a train from his exertion. He was rewarded for his efforts in mere minutes as a cabin came into view. No longer caring who may be inside, he dashed full speed for the door, praying he didn't meet a gun barrel on the other side.

The last twenty feet felt like an entire marathon, big snow boots felt like cinderblocks weighing his feet further down into the snow. His lungs were on fire, the cold air harsh and unforgiving with his greedy consumption. Balance was beginning to become difficult, limbs were slowing down like cold maple syrup, and his vision was tunneling towards the door like a gopher in caddy shack. Having played sports in his Highschool days, Jim knew this was all he had left, he just hoped it was enough as he reached for the latch on the door.

Robin was sitting in her armchair, reading yet another sappy romance novel. Her friend the yeti had been by the day before, and had lent it to her. She had just gotten through the part where the main love interest was killed off, and she could hardly bare to keep reading it. Slipping off the dust cover, she realized it was actually a horror novel. It was one of her least favorite genres, and would always make her depressed and scared, causing blizzards in summer if she wasn't careful. No wonder the yeti had lent it to her... she wanted more time with her husband! Just as she started to exclaim, *"That bi-"* **BANG** she was interrupted by the door to her cabin exploding inwards. Some creature with a black head fell through it, frantically throwing the door shut as it landed on the front rug.

Jim couldn't believe his luck, the door had been unlocked and easily opened. He knew those latches could be a pain with poorly fitting doors, but he was too concerned with that fact as he frantically swung the door shut from his back on the floor. The sudden adrenaline rush, with all the extra weight of his snow gear, had been all he could do. He closed his eyes, his heart still pounding, and passed out. Robin held her breath, staring at the large human shaped creature lying in her entryway. Was it dead? Did it mean her harm? She rarely went into the closest town, and hadn't been in for weeks. How did this thing find her? Her friends tracks should've been covered from this blizzard...

Slowly she approached the mound of synthetic snow covered fabric. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed human. She listened quietly, hearing the breathing slow and ragged, and feeling the heat pouring off of her unconscious guest. Remembering the story from the yeti about her own husband nearly dying from overheating when she found him, Robin spurred herself into action, removing the hat first. She was surprised to find more thin cloth wrapping up around this mans head, and with a start she realized she could tell from his smell that he was male. Blushing at this, the disrobing continued slowly, first the jacket being peeled away to reveal the suspenders and bib of his snowpants. Next she moved on to the fabric hiding his face from her, gently pulling this way and that to wiggle the constricting fabric free. Finally with a quick tug, the neck warmer and balaclava were discarded, revealing a dark brown beard, streaked with the odd white hair. Her heart fluttered for a few moments, her instincts telling her to taste his lips and feel his warmth for herself. This idea was quickly pushed aside, her blush spreading furiously across her cheeks. Distracting herself with continuing to undress her napping suitor, she removed his boots and snow-pants with some difficulty. She easily scooped him up in her arms, and princess carried him over to her seat, gently laying him down  and fretting over his comfort for some minutes. Eventually she realized she hadn't eaten yet, and he very well may be hungry after his headlong dash into the cabin.

Jim smiled in his dream, it wasn't often he dreamed of a beautiful woman undressing him. It felt nice too, relaxing as he was settled in a comfortable position in his dream. Then he started to smell bacon, now he knew he had to be dreaming, he didn't have any bacon left after his breakfast at his house. Panic welled up in him, was he being cooked in his sleep? He forced himself awake with a gasp, sitting bolt upright and startling the lady standing at the stove, her spatula clattering to the floor. He looked at her as she turned to look at him, their eyes meeting and locking on each other's crystal blue color. Jim's throat was suddenly very dry, and his tongue felt like lead, this woman was gorgeous. Standing elegantly poised and around his height at six feet tall, her frame was slim, but not without all the right curves.

He suddenly realized he felt very naked, and quickly looked down. To his surprise he found himself in his thermal clothing, wet with sweat from his mad dash, and the rest of his gear on drying racks by the fire. The silence was becoming awkward, only punctuated by the sizzle and pop of the bacon on the stove. Robin finally stopped mentally stripping him down the rest of the way and quickly focused on cooking again to hide her blush.

Experimentally clearing his throat, Jim spoke up.

"Is the moose still there?"

Another cooking utensil clattered to the counter in surprise, Robin looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Moose? There was nothing out there but you..."

She trailed off again, her mind starting to drift off to scenarios from her romance novels. She had to give the yeti kudos there, she always had very... interesting romance books. Some of her favorites were the illustrated ones, like the one hidden under her pillow right this minute. She snapped out of her daze and went back to the cooking, trying to think of a way to get this man in her bedroom with significantly less clothes on.