Once out of Bill's sight, Faith slipped on her flannel shirt and strolled cheerfully down the tree-lined path, swinging her brazier in lazy circles.
'I don't think Bunyan will be sleeping alone in his cabin tonight,' she decided, smiling at the high probability of pleasure.
Sunlight, shining through the bare hardwoods, cast spidery stripes across the trail. The earth smelled alive. Buds had popped open on the undergrowth, drinking in the rays before the treetop canopy blocked them out for the summer. Bending to look closely at the sliver of green peeking out between the brown shrouds, Faith thought how quickly the world changed. Two days ago, she was surrounded by cold and snow, and today was all sunshine and springtime, a pattern that seemed to be reflected in her own life, a change from cold and dark to warm and bright.
"Holder has made all the difference."
Was his timely arrival simply coincidence or a miracle?
"A miracle," she said aloud, with a tone of undeniable conviction. Walking on, she wondered what her kids would think of him and what he would think of them.
'I hope his daughter likes me.' The thought extended into, 'This must be really serious if I'm worried about relatives.' Faith smiled at the recognition of wanting more, of wanting Bill.
Getting back on the reality track, her mind downshifted into, 'How will I get the bunkhouse finished?'
As she began to prioritize practical needs, Faith approached the new bunkhouse from the back. Hershey ran around in front and started barking and snarling, followed by a wounded yelp.
Running anxiously in the dog's direction, Faith yelled, "Here Hershey, here Hershey... Please don't be skunked."
***
Rolling the wheelbarrow back to the segmented tree, Bill couldn't help but grin, thinking, 'I may be a fun ride, but Faith is the whole amusement park.'
Expending some of his newfound vigor, Bill tossed the abundance of cut wood into a pile, clearing the work area. As he worked, he tried to come up with some new ideas on how to tease Faith, and how much fun it would be if she tried to one-up him.
'I may be onto something; we'll have a who's-the-biggest-tease contest. There's no way I can win but, considering the outcome, losing is better.'
Bill frowned with the realization he'd surrendered to his sexual urges again. 'Damn, I'm a pig. Where is all this going? Focus, Holder, get a grip.'
Looking over what was left of the tree, Bill decided to cut up all of the smaller branches and leave the main trunk for another day. The telephone wires were already free from the debris. He could leave at anytime to pursue other interests. The thought of how sweet his other interest tasted made him shake his head in an effort to erase the memory of Faith's eyes inviting him in, as her legs opened wide.
With one pull, the chainsaw screamed to life and, concentrating on his mission, the logs fell in nearly equal lengths in rapid succession, until the engine coughed and died from thirst. Carrying the saw back to the truck for refueling, the buzzing in his ears was gradually replaced by a mournful howl. Looking in the direction of the sound, a billowing cloud of smoke rising above the trees made the blood drain from his face.
"God, no!"
Heart beating wildly, Bill threw the saw in the truck and scrambled into the cab. Turning on the ignition caused a tired cranking noise.
"Start, damn it!" The engine sputtered to life and he stomped the gas pedal down, ripping up the sod as he backed onto the road.
Shifting into drive, he accelerated toward the growing plume. The wheels spun and gravel flew.
"This is my fucking nightmare!" Bill screamed, pounding on the steering wheel.
Flames were already licking out from the new bunkhouse windows when Bill jumped from the truck.
"Faith! Faith!"
No answer.
Attempting to see inside, Bill circled the building. Fire blocked both entrances. A flood of helpless dread overwhelmed him. He knelt down and prayed, "God help me," to regain some rational thought.
The dog began howling again and Bill jumped at the sound. Racing to the far end of the building, he found Hershey sitting with her head back in a mournful wail.
"Where is she girl? Where's Faith?"
She ignored him and continued her cry.
There were no windows on the first floor at this end. If someone were inside, they'd be trapped. Pounding on the structure, Bill screamed, "Faith! Faith! Are you in there!" and pressed his ear to the wall.
Time to act was burning away quickly and there was nothing left to do but try.
Racing to the truck, Bill quickly refueled the chainsaw and ran back. Ripping off the vapor barrier to expose the nail heads, he started the saw and began working the tip through the plywood, four feet above the sill. When the wood was cut all the way through, the smoke poured out, drawing the fire to a new source of air. Bill knew he'd just shortened his rescue time, and let the chainsaw chew rapidly down. Just before meeting the floor the saw jammed and stalled. Something wet made him glance at his arm. Blood and clots of flesh were splattered over his forearm and shirt. His stomach retched. Unable to control his horror, He vomited.
The heat blowing out through the slot in the wall put him in motion once again. Moving over to the next stud space, he cut a hole two feet above the floor and reached in to feel for anything in the way. Nothing there, he opened the hole big enough to crawl into.
