Andrew found her lying next to the stream. She was thin and filthy, her hair so lank that he couldn't tell what color it was. He expected her to flee from his approach, but she stayed put.

He stopped a short distance away from the young woman, scratching his beard while regarding her. Though her eyes had a vacant look, he knew she was aware of his presence. She'd removed her socks and sneakers, and he saw her feet had numerous blisters. Her jeans were mud-caked, while her shirt bore stains that might have been blood. How the hell did she get up here?

"Hey, girlie, this is private property," Andrew told her. She didn't so much as blink at the sound of his voice. "You got to move along."

When she finally stirred, it seemed to take all her energy to sit upright. Yet she made no move to stand. "I ain't got anywhere to move along to."

"Sure you do. Keep walking east, and you'll come to a dirt road. Follow it right back to where you came from."

She waved absently at the flies and mosquitoes circling around her. The late summer air was thick with them, and they were drawn to the scratches covering her arms. Looking up at Andrew, she said in a flat tone, "There ain't nothing left for me down in that valley."

"Ain't nothing for you here, either," Andrew shot back. "Now, this is my land, and I want you off it, you hear me?"

Her hazel eyes flashed in defiance. "Then you'll have to carry me out of here, because I'm not taking another goddamn step."

Andrew's fingers twitched from the urge to yank the woman to her feet. He resisted the impulse, telling himself it wasn't worth the hassle. She'd move on once she got hungry enough. If she happened to make her way to his cabin, he'd deal with her then.

Even after he left her where she sat, his mood remained dark. It had been months since he'd encountered another soul in these woods. That man had been passing through, heading farther west. He'd told Andrew of growing unrest in the nearest city. It wasn't much more than a small town, but violence had broken out there as well. Andrew had braced himself for an onslaught of people escaping the more populated areas in search of safety, along with food and water. When no one else appeared, he figured the situation had resolved, for better or for worse: survivors had found a way to manage, or they'd fled elsewhere.

The summer had been quiet, but perhaps the young woman's presence signaled a far less peaceful fall. If she'd made it up here, there were plenty of others who could do the same. They'd end up right on his doorstep.

The realization made him wary, but he didn't have the will to move again. The cabin, and the woods surrounding it, were his home. He was determined to stay until the bitter end.

Andrew slept poorly that night, unable to stop thinking of the woman he'd left by the stream. She was awfully young, little more than a girl. It was hard to believe she was on her own. Maybe she was waiting for others to join her. That thought soured his stomach.

Just after dawn, he rose and headed back to the spot where he'd found her the day before. All the while, he clung to a fierce hope that she was gone. When Andrew saw her sitting in the same place, he swore under his breath. Aside from appearing a bit cold and being covered by insect bites, she didn't seem much worse off. He dared to draw closer, but the odor hit him like a palpable force.

"Christ, you smell bad enough to gag a maggot!" Andrew said to the woman. "At least take a bath." He nodded toward the stream.

"That water's cold!"

He rolled his eyes. "Wait till the sun's overhead. It'll warm you up right quick."

She set her jaw in a firm line. "I don't have a change of clothes."

"Take your clothes into the water with you." He spoke each word slowly and emphatically. "Then wash them as best you can."

The woman gave him a sidelong look, full of suspicion. "Why? So you can hide in the woods and watch me like a pervert?"

Andrew burst out laughing at that. "You know how long I've been alone up here, girlie? It's going to take far more than your scrawny ass to get my attention."

"Well, ain't you a charmer," she muttered. 

"Oh, I'm sure you can find better company elsewhere." He shook his head, still grinning. At least she had some life in her now; she clearly wasn't ill. "What's your name, anyway?"

She picked up a rock and tossed it toward the stream. Her throw was lousy. "Lottie. What's yours?"

"I'm asking the questions. How old are you, Lottie?"

"Almost twenty."

"And where's your family?"

She turned her face from him, leaving only her profile in view. He could see her lips quivering as she fought back tears.

"Alright," he said quietly, as if she'd answered the question. They were both silent for a long moment. Then he strode deeper into the woods, calling over his shoulder as he went, "I mean it about that bath. You reek."

Andrew returned at suppertime, carrying a bowl and spoon, along with a canteen of purified water. Lottie was still by the stream, but he could tell she'd obeyed his order. Her hair was damp from the creek, and her jeans and shirt were spread out in the sunshine to dry. The bra and underwear she wore were a dingy white; nothing but bleach would brighten them again. He caught a glimpse of her bare legs, which were pale and covered in fine hair. How long had she been struggling to survive on her own out here? he wondered. She had nothing but the clothes on her back.

Before he could call out a greeting, Lottie spotted him and released a startled shriek. "I ain't dressed!"

Andrew snorted in amusement as she darted toward a large oak tree and tried to hide behind it. "Nothing I ain't seen before. I brought you something to eat."

Lottie peeked around the tree, unable to conceal her abject hunger. Still, she asked, "What is it?"

"Stew."

"What kind?"

Andrew let out an exasperated huff. "Rabbit."

Lottie wrinkled her nose. "I'm not hungry."

"Bullshit!" he thundered. "You're half-starved! Are you telling me you're too proud to eat the food I'm offering?" When Lottie didn't speak, he moved toward her, his stance threatening. "Now you listen. I won't have you starve to death up here. I'll haul your ass right off this mountain, but I'll keep your shoes. Try making your way back here without them."

Her face blanched as she swallowed hard. "I appreciate you sharing your food with me, but I don't think I can keep it down."

Andrew's anger faded, replaced by understanding. Holding out the bowl to her, he spoke far more gently. "Eat slow. That way, it's less likely to come back up. I want you to try a few bites for me, okay?"

When her eyes locked with his, he gave her a nod of encouragement. They were both silent as she sat on the ground. He managed to look everywhere but at her small breasts while handing her the stew.

She drank from the canteen first, taking such large swallows that Andrew had to remind her to go easy. Then she ate at a painstakingly slow pace, grimacing as her empty stomach rebelled. He knew that kind of aching, desperate hunger, and his heart softened toward her a little.

She succeeded in finishing half the meal without getting sick. "I'm sorry, I can't eat any more of it."

Andrew took the bowl from her. "You did good, Lottie. You'll feel better soon." As he picked up the spoon and helped himself to her leftovers, she stood and headed toward the stream, canteen in hand. "What are you doing?"

"Getting more water."

His eyes widened. "Jesus, girl, don't you know anything? It's a wonder you ain't sick as a dog! That water needs to be purified before you drink it."

She felt well enough to scowl at him. Hands on her hips, she retorted, "Now you tell me! Would have been nice if you'd mentioned that yesterday!"

"As if you would have listened, with that hard head of yours," he said under his breath.

Lottie didn't bother responding to his remark. Instead, she gazed longingly at the stream. Andrew knew that kind of thirst as well. If he left her out here, it would soon get the better of her. She'd start out with sips, as if that could protect her. Then she'd grow bolder, drinking more until it made her ill. When she looked at him again, her expression was entreating. It was as if she could hear his thoughts.

He gave a single jerk of his head in the direction of the cabin. "Come on, then."

Against his better judgment, he led her to his home. All the while, he tried to assuage his doubts by telling himself that he'd chase her off if she became too much trouble. Even then, he knew that was bullshit.

Andrew's cabin was little more than a hovel, but Lottie seemed thrilled at the sight of it. As she looked around everywhere, he noticed that her hair, now dried, was a pretty chestnut-brown shade. He showed her the location of each essential item he owned, and he explained how she should purify the water by boiling it. Then he retrieved the extra blankets he used in winter so he could make a bed for her on the floor.

"If it gets too drafty under this window, you can always move somewhere else." He studied her face, wondering what she thought of this arrangement. She seemed grateful for a safe place to stay. Again and again, she thanked him. He pointed out a cake of soap. "Take that with you for your next bath."

Lottie eyed his denim shirt and canvas trousers, along with his boots. Then she looked down at her own outfit. "These clothes ain't going to last me long."

Andrew moved toward a chest he kept at the end of the bed. He'd made it out of cedar years ago. Opening the lid, he took out a few pairs of jeans and corduroy pants, along with some practical shirts. The bras were too large for Lottie, and he suspected the underwear might be, too. Still, he scooped all the garments into his arms, along with several pairs of socks, then offered them to her. She lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

He nodded toward the interior of the cedar chest. "There's a winter coat for you as well, and a pair of gloves and warm hat. You'll be needing them sooner than you think." From beneath his bed, he withdrew a pair of women's boots. "These might be a little roomy on you, but they'll do."

When he stood before Lottie once more, she held his stare for several moments. "Who did these clothes belong to?"

Now it was Andrew's turn to fall silent. He looked down at his weathered hands, scarred and calloused. Still, Lottie must have seen the pained expression on his face.

"So you weren't always alone up here," she said in a low voice. "What happened to her?"

Andrew wanted to say that it was none of her fucking business. But it wouldn't do to be harsh, he told himself. Her question was a reasonable one. "She lived here for a time, and then she headed back toward the city," he replied. "I haven't heard from her since."

"But you kept her things. You were hoping she'd come back."

He snapped his head up and glowered at Lottie. "I don't throw out anything useful."

"I understand," she said quickly. It was clear she didn't want to upset him. A soft smile played on her lips. "You never did tell me your name."

He couldn't help but smile in return. "It's Andrew."

"And how old are you, Andrew?" Lottie set about placing a clean outfit on the bed before returning the other clothing to the chest. She ever so gently closed its lid, as if it were fragile.

"Old enough to be your father, which is all the more reason for you to mind me."

Her smile morphed into an impish grin. "You certainly look it, with that gray in your hair and beard."

"Such cruelty!" Andrew pretended to be wounded while placing a hand against his chest. He was pleased when she giggled at his theatrics. "Just you wait, sweetheart. These mountains will soon age you, too."

As she eagerly gulped down more water, he took the opportunity to outline her responsibilities. "If you stay here, you'll make yourself useful to me."

"Because you don't throw out anything useful."

Andrew raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Clever girl. You'll learn to hunt, fish, trap, and forage. And by God, you'd better know how to cook, because I'm tired of doing it."

She appeared a little uncertain, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I can cook, and I can fish, I guess, but I'm going to need help learning to do the other stuff."

"I'll teach you."

That night, Lottie curled up in her bed of blankets, content as a cat. Andrew had given her an extra pillow from his own bed, and not long after they both settled down in the darkness, he heard her breathing deepen. Even when he was sure she was asleep, he didn't rest easy; it was difficult to trust a stranger in his home.

The following night, he slept more soundly. As the days passed, Lottie proved eager to learn everything she could about how to survive in these mountains. While she grew more skilled at fishing and trapping, Andrew realized she'd never be a hunter. She was no good at wielding the bow, and he wasn't about to turn her loose in the woods with the rifle or shotgun.

Lottie's ability to forage soon surpassed his own. Once Andrew was certain she could find her way around the forest, he taught her how to distinguish edible berries and mushrooms from poisonous ones. She had an uncanny knack for discovering the sweetest fruit, and Andrew could have kissed her when she returned to the cabin with a veritable feast of Chicken of the Woods.

"You did good, girlie!" he exclaimed, delighted with the tasty mushrooms she'd gathered.

Lottie beamed at his praise. "Glad I can be useful."

In the close quarters of the cabin, modesty became a luxury they could ill afford. As the two of them grew more comfortable around each other, they made little effort to conceal their naked bodies while changing or washing. Of course, Andrew tried to avert his eyes when Lottie was getting dressed, and he stayed clear of the stream while she was bathing, but the temptation sometimes overwhelmed him. All it took was a glimpse of pink nipples or dark pubic hair to ignite his lust. For the remainder of the day, he'd remain in that aroused state, aching for release.

Andrew had caught Lottie sneaking glances at him, too. He was used to sleeping naked, and when he was sure Lottie wouldn't mind, he returned to that habit. One morning just after dawn, he climbed from bed, still bleary-eyed with sleep. It was then that he noticed Lottie gazing at his erect cock. He expected her to look away, but she kept her stare fixed on him. Standing completely still, he let her have a good look at his sinewy frame. They both started breathing a little faster; he could see her breasts rising and falling beneath her shirt.

Yet she finally dropped her gaze. Andrew watched her turn away from him, and as she snuggled deeper into the blankets, he could no longer make out her expression. He felt a twinge of remorse for standing in front of her with a hard-on. A decent man would have quickly covered up.

Neither of them spoke of what had happened. Instead, they went about their day as usual. At lunchtime, Lottie pressed a hand to her abdomen, trying to hide a wince, and Andrew immediately guessed the problem. "Why don't you take it easy this afternoon?" he suggested. "I'll handle the chores."

Even as her eyes filled with gratitude, she said, "I can't take it easy every time I'm about to have a period."

"Sure you can. Especially if I say so, because we agreed you have to mind me, remember?"

"How could I forget, with you always reminding me?" Lottie's smile was tender when she moved to slip her arms around his waist. "Thanks, Andrew."

He allowed himself to plant a quick kiss on the top of her head. "Go on now, get some rest. You look tired."

By the time evening arrived, Lottie looked less wan, and she insisted on cooking supper. The meal was good, as always, but Andrew was restless as the two of them shared it. Outside the window, darkness began to descend, and while he normally dreaded the longer fall and winter nights, he craved the deepening shadows now.

Since Lottie had begun living with him, he jerked off at night only when he was certain she was soundly asleep. And since the woman woke at the slightest noise, he could rarely be sure. But he'd have to take the chance tonight. Simply recalling the way Lottie had looked at his naked body made him grow hard. He thought he'd go out of his mind if he didn't grant himself some relief.

Andrew waited until Lottie retreated to her blankets under the window. If she'd asked to join him in the bed, he wouldn't have denied her. Soon, he knew, the nights would become frigid, and she'd be forced to sleep at his side for warmth. But for now, she tolerated the cabin's chill without complaint. Maybe she sensed the risk of them sharing a bed, just as he did.

As they lay in the darkness, Andrew strained to hear Lottie's breathing grow even, which let him know she was asleep. Then he slipped a hand beneath the covers, seeking out his stiffening cock. He had to muffle a moan at that first stroke. Christ, he needed this! With his other hand, he cupped his balls, daring to give them a gentle squeeze. Soon he worked up to a steady rhythm. The sounds of his self-pleasure didn't disturb Lottie; while his own breathing quickened, hers remained deep and relaxed.

Andrew told himself he just needed to get this out of his system. He refused to let his thoughts linger on Lottie as he jerked at a more fervent pace. Though his calloused palm was rough against his shaft, he began bucking his hips. Each time the bedframe creaked, he winced, but the fear of waking Lottie couldn't deter him from this pleasure, solitary and secret as it was.

It was then that Lottie stirred in her nest of blankets. He immediately stilled his stroking, yet she didn't drift back to sleep. Instead, she mumbled, "What are you doing?"

Andrew considered not answering her. If he rolled over and stayed quiet, she'd leave him be. But he knew he didn't have the strength to stop. Taking hold of his dick once more, he said, "Nothing that concerns you, Lottie."

The sound of his hand pumping away beneath the covers seemed far too loud. Of course, Lottie heard it. Of course, she knew exactly what he was doing. That realization made him groan. Despite the coolness of the cabin, he grew hot, close to sweating.

Andrew listened as Lottie climbed to her feet. Would she go outside for a few minutes and leave him to his desperate stroking?

She took the few steps to his bedside. All he could see was her silhouette in the light of the rising moon. "Lottie," he said in a strained voice. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for waking her, and for doing this while she was in the same room. When he tried, he found he couldn't think beyond his lust, which was like a hot, insistent pulse deep within him.

Lottie rested her hands upon his chest, then moved them upward, feeling for his face. Her fingertips grazed his beard. He kissed her palm even while gasping for breath.

Leaning forward, she replaced her hand on his mouth with her lips. That first kiss, tender yet hungry, made Andrew shake with the urge to reach for her. Before he could, she stepped back. His eyes widened in the dark as he listened to her undress. Again, he said her name, pleading now. If she wouldn't go outside, he would, for his self-control was eroding by the second.

Lottie didn't speak while drawing back the covers. An involuntary shiver coursed through him when she climbed onto the bed, her movements careful. He squeezed his eyes shut as she straddled his thighs. Already, he could feel the heat of her cunt against his skin. He opened his mouth, ready to beg for her touch. If she used her hand to get him off, that would be more than enough to satisfy his need. It was more than he'd ever allowed himself to imagine she was willing to do.

The feel of her warm fingers circling his shaft made him groan. How silent she was in the darkness! He wished he could see her face, for her expressions were easy to read by now. Tonight, however, she remained a mystery.

When Lottie began sliding along the length of Andrew's erection, it took all his effort not to touch her. He feared doing so would break the spell she'd woven between them. Her hot, slick folds felt exquisite massaging the underside of his cock. With each roll of her hips, she fed their lust until Andrew gritted his teeth, trying to hold back. A primal desire, so long denied, made him wild to be inside her.

It was as if Lottie sensed what he most wanted, for she gently grasped his dick once more, then positioned herself just above it. The sensation of her flesh surrounding his tip made him start panting. He heard Lottie release the faintest whimper before she sank all the way down, taking every inch.

Extending his hands in the darkness, he caressed her thighs. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, competing with the room's quiet.

"I love you, Andrew," Lottie whispered. Then she began to ride him.

"Ah, sweetheart!" He rested his palms on her hips, feeling the sensual rhythm of her fucking. The realization that she was no virgin filled him with relief; she clearly knew how to take her pleasure from a man's cock.

Lottie moved faster, her faint cries mingling with Andrew's groans. Deprived of sight, he focused far more on the feel, sound, and smell of her. His senses sharpened into a kind of delirium until he grew dangerously close to release.

"Lottie, wait!" His voice was strained, as though he bore a heavy burden. Lottie's body was feather-light upon his, yet she effortlessly controlled him with her tight, wet cunt. He didn't trust her to heed his warnings. He barely trusted himself. Still, he managed to grasp her, remaining between her thighs while rolling her onto her back. She immediately yielded to the change in position.

Andrew sought out her mouth. She returned his demanding kiss with equal force. When his balls tightened, he succumbed to the desire to thrust fiercely. Lottie's moans became helpless wails as he fucked her hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall.

The powerful pumping of his hips soon had her shaking and writhing beneath him. She fell silent in the darkness; he couldn't even hear her breathing. And then the contractions gripped his cock in what felt like an endless wave. He groaned from the effort it took to last. Each spasm pushed him toward his own release. Beads of sweat formed on his skin while he continued his merciless rutting.

When Lottie climaxed yet again, it wasn't just her pussy gripping him. With her arms and legs, she encircled his body in a fierce embrace. He was so close now, so ready to come, yet she refused to loosen her hold. It became a contest of wills until he succeeded in pinning her wrists to the bed. Then he pulled out, a roar sounding from his throat as he climaxed. His seed spurted all over Lottie's skin, but at least it wasn't inside her, he assured himself.

Andrew was still shuddering when he slumped against her. "My God, girl!" he managed to say through his heavy breaths. He heard her soft laughter as she held him. Even as he thought about the risk they'd just taken, his muscles grew heavy and relaxed. Only when he moved to lie at Lottie's side did he whisper, "We'll have to be careful."

"We were careful," she whispered back.

Andrew pulled her into his arms. "More careful," he insisted. "It's far too dangerous for you to get pregnant out here."

"I know." She planted a kiss on his chest. "I understand nothing's foolproof, but I think we're okay this time. I'm about to start my period, and you pulled out."

"Not a moment too soon."

"Sorry I made that difficult for you." Lottie sounded sheepish. "I don't know what happened to me; I'm not one to carry on like that."

Andrew smiled at her confession. "Don't be sorry. I loved getting you so excited." He breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of sex. Their skin bore traces of his cum and her juices. "And while we can't fuck like rabbits every night, I can satisfy you in other ways."

"Oh, I have no doubt!" Lottie murmured. Then she fondled his cock while whispering about all the ways she planned to satisfy him as well.

The following morning, they woke to find the cabin filled with sunrise's fiery glow. Lottie sat up, casting off all remnants of sleep as she cried, "Andrew, look!"

The sky outside the window was striped with crimson, peach, and apricot. That ethereal light lingered behind a veneer of autumn cold. Andrew knew it wouldn't be long before those vibrant colors yielded to a cloudless blue.

He moved to wrap a blanket around them both. In that moment, with Lottie in his arms, he was the happiest he'd ever been. She cupped a hand against the back of his head, guiding his mouth to hers. The glorious sunrise was momentarily forgotten while they kissed.

Andrew buried his face in Lottie's hair. "I can't promise I'll always be able to keep you safe here," he whispered. "But I swear I'll die trying."