Chapter 5

I rubbed my chin and looked at her, "That's some story!"

She scowled, "It's no story! It really did happen!" Standing, she moved to the table.

I shrugged, "Okay then, what happened with the bear? Did someone frighten it off?"

She sat down on a tall, straight-backed chair and held the sheet to cover her intimate parts. "There's more to it if you're interested."

"It's Sunday; I've already missed church. Please continue with your tale." I moved over to the table. Sam sat, she was scowling at me as I took a seat.

"I'm not making this up, it really did happen!" Her eyes looked as though I had hurt her, and I felt like such a heel.

"A guy suddenly changing into a girl is just too hard to believe, Sam! You've got to realize that much! You are asking me to believe that a stupid necklace caused all of that to happen to you?" I pointed at the feminine shape hidden under the sheet.

"It happened," she frowned. "Do you want to hear the rest of it or not?" she asked as she pulled the sheet tighter and folded her arms.

"Go on," I said softly, shrugging my shoulders.

*I awoke to the sound of a fire popping and crackling, I could feel the heat against my face even before I opened my eyes. Raising my head, I looked around me, amazed to myself that I hadn't been eaten. As I took in my surroundings, I saw beside me was a small speckled blue bowl, just inside of it lay a rag. I had been reclining on a narrow bed with what looked like it was made of thin willow branches woven and interlocked into a surprisingly comfortable platform. On the top of that lay a bag of what felt like dried straw or grass.

Above the small fire was a wide hearth that seemed to span almost six feet, bark still evident on the underside of the mantle. Sitting upon the flat upper surface was a single yellow candle made of beeswax, which was held by a dull tin holder. I smiled as I realized that the candle had been there for a long time, it was bowed by the heat from the fireplace.

Across the room stood a tall shelf, and several cubbyholes were filled with normal items of the occupant. I could see a tin, perhaps with dried tea inside. Nearby was a rather ornate cup and saucer, probably belonging to the woman of the home. In the corner was a board with several pegs, upon two of the pegs, hung a great furry item that looked like an animal skin. Just below it was a broom, fabricated with a stick and several bunches of tall grasses tied to the base.

I glanced toward the floor, and I saw that it was made of long planking. It was unusual to see this type of flooring since wood was very expensive to plane way out here. Just to my right, a tall open stairs led upward. I studied each step, the boards were narrow in width and yet quite thick. Through the steps I could see beyond, into what looked like a kitchen.

I rolled to the side, the little kitchen stove was very tiny and yet looked as if it was well maintained. I raised my eyes upward, I could hear someone walking on the planking in the loft...I was not alone. I felt my heart skip, I cringed as I wondered what they had thought when they found me dressed as a female.

Suddenly I heard the walker, moving toward the first boards of the stairs. I sat up quickly, the billowing dress tangled and impeded my legs from standing. I watched in shock as the great soles of a boot began their decent down the open stairway. The boots were tall and ended just below the knee, at each side hung a long, tasseled bootstrap.

More and more of the person was revealed as he came further down the steps; it was a man and his great thud of his footfall bespoke of his large size. At the bottom of the steps he turned and headed into his kitchen, and I noticed that he was quite big, probably well over six feet tall! I scrambled out of the bedding; the dress making me stumble as he slowly turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Care for something to drink?" His voice was deep and rung within the little home. "I'm fixing up some coffee if you want it."

"N..No thank you, I'm fine." I stammered, trying to get a better view of him through the stairs. "H..how did I get here?"

He pulled down a large tin cup and poured himself his coffee, "I heard some shooting, when I went to see what was going on...I watched two fellas moving back into the woods." He took a long sip, still facing toward the window with his back to me. "That's when I found you."

I looked outside, only the faint glow of the setting sun could be seen. He turned and leaned against a long counter made from thin split logs. "Can you explain why they were shooting at you?"

I swallowed hard, looking quickly at the door. If I made a run, I would have to go past him in doing so. He followed my eyes and smiled, "I ain't going to harm you none. I just need to figure out why those guys wanted to hurt you."

I inched my way around the stairs, probably looking to him like a frightened deer peering from the brush. "They were trying to take me to Cold Spring...or something like that...against my wishes."

He took another swallow of his coffee, then wiped his thick beard of stray liquid. "Cold Forks...it's the only town near here." I nodded at his correction, realizing my error.

"That's the one." I inched further, afraid of what he would think of me wearing the clothes of a girl.

He sat his cup down on the table before him, "You're sorta dressed up, especially to be traipsing around in these woods."

I smiled weakly, feeling my face flush with embarrassment. "I can explain."

"No need...frankly, I don't care." He pulled out a chair, which still maintained the bark on the legs. "This ain't the place for no greenhorn... let alone some girl!"

"I'm no girl!" I shot back.

He laughed, a great booming sound reverberated along the rough timber. "Fine then...a woman!" He twiddled his fingers in the air and laughed, rolling his eyes in amusement.

"That's not what I mean!" I replied angrily. "I'm not a girl...OR a woman!"

He snickered and folded his huge hands in front of him, pointing a finger my way. "I would guess then, that's it's been awhile since you last looked at yourself?"

I grabbed at the long skirt, holding it out away from me slightly. "They made me put this on! I ain't like that!"

Again he laughed, stood and poured himself another cup of coffee. "Well, I can't be taking you back to town this week. It'll have to wait until I've checked my traps." He shook his head and took another drink. "Be cold soon, did you happen to be wearing a jacket?"

I shook my head, "They didn't give me one." Again he shook his head and laughed.

"It's pretty obvious to me...that idiot of yours doesn't take care a girl. To guys like him, you're nothing more than meat to poke, and then once you've served your purpose...he'll show you his boot!" He scowled and spun his cup, "Your mother should've raised her daughter with more sense."

"How many times do I have to tell you...I'M NO GIRL!" I stamped my foot on the floor to emphasize my point.

He laughed and took another long drink of his steaming coffee, "From where I'm standing, you'd be hard pressed to convince me otherwise!"

I frowned at him, but as I folded my arms against my stomach, something brushed the top of each arm. I glanced down into the pillowy hills and valleys of a woman's breasts as they rolled beneath the material of the corset! I stepped back, a shocked scream hung unspoken upon my voice! Quickly I touched each one, and soft mounds of very feminine flesh greeted my slender fingers!

I raised my trembling hands, and I saw that they were long and slim, as each finger was adorned with a narrow nail. I could feel my breath gasping and wheezing in the throws of hyperventilation. I raced a hand down my flat stomach, unsure if it were held that way by the corset or if I now possessed a girl's belly. My hands felt at the base of my torso, and between my thighs was a void as flat as my stomach! "Oh...oh my God!" I cried as I flashed my hand against my genitalia, only to find it like the void of a woman's. "He...he did this to me!" I bawled.

The big man frowned, as I sank to the floor in tears. He slowly walked to me and gently lifted me back to my feet, "What's your name?"

I looked down at my swollen chest, "Does it really matter anymore?" I continued crying, pushing myself away from him. "H..how?" I sobbed. "How did he do it without me noticing?" I staggered once again, "The necklace...he had to have touched me somehow with the necklace!"

He ignored my outburst, "I can't just call you 'Hey girl'...you got to have a name." He took a step backward.

I shrugged my shoulders, "They called me Sam at the orphanage." I said as I wiped the tears against my slender trembling hand. "Short for Samuel."

"That's funny," he laughed softly, "My late wife went by 'Sam' too...only with her it was short for... Samantha."

He stood quietly for a few uncomfortable minutes watching me desperately mulling over the changes to my body. "So, Samantha... can you cook?"

I shrugged, giving up on trying to correct him while looking the way I did. "How can you possibly ask me to cook for you after what I've just been through?"

He rubbed his chin and folded his arms, "If you expect to keep warm until we can get you back into town, you're gonna need to help out some around here. Cooking is one way that you can be of service."

I wiped a stray rolling tear away, all hope lost to me. I sighed emotionally, "I...I guess...a little."

He gently led me to the kitchen, his hand dwarfed my own in its size. "The skillet is hanging on the wall, I got bacon hanging outside in the shed." He watched me slowly begin to stoke the stove with wood, unsure of what he would do with what appeared to be a crying, irrational and emotional female.

My trembling hands pushed the bonnet from my head, dropping it in frustration on the table. I touched my hair as it was suddenly cascading in great volumes as it fell about my shoulders, spilling to the tops of my new breasts. I buried my face into these slim hands I now possessed, and another great sob broke from my slender throat.

The door opened slowly, and he stepped back inside. He watched me quietly, concern etched upon his brow. After an extremely deafening silence, he sighed. "I can cook. Why don't you sit down a spell and pull yourself back together." He slowly drew out a chair and waited until I could seat myself. His sympathetic gesture made me smile for the first time since this has happened.

He smiled, his white teeth showing through the fuzzy brown beard with just the tiniest hint of gray. "Name's Travis Henry...friends call me Kodiak." He sliced a few pieces of meat with a huge knife that looked razor sharp.

I sat up, surprised that there was some at least validity to her story as I spoke! "I know Kodiak, he's a good man and a friend of mine. He lives about fifty or sixty miles straight up the Mountain!"

She scowled at me, "Congratulations...now may I continue?" Her sarcasm was pretty heavy, but it caused me to smile. I waved my hand as Grandfather would have done. "Go on...I'll keep shut."

She rolled her eyes, "Promise?" There was a slight hint of her smile as she continued to relay her story to me, a story that I was slowly finding more and more believable. Impossible, yet minutely believable.

Chapter 6

*I laughed weakly at the big man, "So...I imagine that you were my bear? The one I saw at the waterfall?"

His laugh boomed, almost startling me. "That would be me," he said, tossing the meat into the skillet. "How old are you, Samantha? Seem kind of young to be out on your own."

I rolled my eyes, 'It seemed that he'd never believe that I wasn't born this way?' I thought. I blew out a trembling breath, "I'll be sixteen in a month." He poured me a cup of coffee and gently placed it on the table, slowly turning the handle toward me. I stared at the reflection of the ceiling as I grew sullen.

He frowned, dropping another few slices into the steaming skillet. "Why ain't you married then? You should be settling down and having a family of your own by now. My own mother was 16 when she had me."

I sighed, "Up until this very morning I was living in an orphanage...as a boy!"

He smiled and flipped the sizzling meat, "Now why would a pretty little thing as yourself be hiding out in some orphanage, as a boy?" He opened up a tall wooden box and lifted out a fist-sized potato and then placed another next to it. From a basket he brought down an onion.

I dropped my head against the table, "That asshole from Cold...whatever, turned me into the girl you keep calling, SAMANTHA!"

He turned slowly and stared intently at me. "I don't believe you. There ain't no way that you could've EVER been a fella!"

"Well I am...ah...was." I frowned, looking down.

He stood, continuing to stare at me, "So...If you was to pull off all your clothes, you'd be a guy under all them feminine fineries?"

"I...I don't know," I stuttered.

"Go ahead, pull 'em off. Been a long time since I seen a naked woman!" He laughed.

"I'll pass," I shot back. "That's the last thing I need for either of us to see." He chuckled softly as he sliced the potatoes into the skillet.

"Afraid a guy like me couldn't please a young thing like you?" He speared the meat and tossed it onto a plate, stirring the potatoes with the tip of his knife. "Not interested because I'm old and a bit rough around the edges?" he laughed as he began to dice up the onion.

"It's not that," I growled, "I'm no woman. I don't know how one is supposed to act!"

He smiled as he wiped the tears caused by the onion, "What the heck do you think those miners were going to do with you?"

I shrugged, "How should I know, I've never been a female before! Besides, it wasn't as though those assholes asked my permission!"

He laughed and pushed the onion off the cutting board, "I could tell you exactly what they were planning to do. Better yet, I could probably show you." Again his booming laugh broke the silence of the little house. "At least one of us might enjoy it!"

I sat stunned at his comment, while he kept blinking away the tears caused by the onion. After a few minutes of stirring, he began to scoop the fried potatoes on a plate for each of us, beside it he placed several slices of the bacon that he prepared. "Better eat up! Tomorrow, you're cooking breakfast!" He turned and sat a plate before me, causing me to push the cup to one side.

I watched as he seated himself. Taking up his knife, and using the wide blade, he scooped a mouthful. He chewed quietly, studying me with his clear, crystal blue eyes. After he swallowed, he gestured toward me, using the knife as an extension of his hand.

He sighed, softly, "I ain't never seen prettier colored hair than you've got." I sat silently, and sliced a small piece of meat, chewing it quietly.

I wasn't sure on how to respond. I looked up quickly, our eyes meeting briefly, "Thanks...I think." I cut another small piece of meat. "I guess my mother must've had yellow hair too," I added, not really sure why I said those words in the first place.

He smiled, "She must have been a handsome woman to birth a youngin' as pretty as you."

I felt my face blush at his compliment, and he smiled and took a sip of his coffee. Thankfully changing the subject, he pointed toward the window. "I'm figuring that there'll be snow inside of a week or so."

I looked up, and he smiled again, "damn, you have the prettiest brown eyes I ever saw."

"So...you'll take me out of here and into town? Hopefully, before the snow flies?" I ignored his comment and tried to keep him on a subject that didn't focus on me directly.

He laughed and took another long drink. "I ain't going nowhere until spring."

"I can't stay up here with you all winter!" I sat up quickly, placing my fork on the plate. "Point out the town's direction, and I'll just walk there!"

"Why not?" he asked. "I ain't going to do nothing to you." He frowned, completely sidestepping my comment about walking to the town. He was quiet for only a moment, then as if what I said dawned on him, "The town is almost a four day walk from here...you'd never make it. You would end up a bear or wolf's meal."

"Well, if that's the case...what about clothes for starters? I have nothing other than what I'm wearing here in the cabin." I stood and began to pace.

"Sure you do, you can wear anything of Samantha's that I have in her trunk." He pointed up into the loft.

I began to glance around the small cabin, "Where will I sleep?"

He shrugged, "Only got the two beds, one up, one down."

"Which one is yours?" I asked softly, hoping his was the one upstairs.

He pointed toward the fireplace, "I sleep there. You can have the one upstairs...until the cold weather sets in."

"Then what?" I wondered aloud.

"Then, we'll be bringing it down here and pushing them together," he said as a matter of fact.

"Why together?" I worried.

"I close the loft off when the weather turns colder; try sleeping up there and you'll be froze stiff by morning." He then did a slow nod as he realized my concern. "Being next to each other will help us stay warm, I ain't going to be doing nothing with you." He smiled and then winked, "Unless you're wanting me to."

I took my cup to my lips with a trembling hand, "Well, here's to a very warm winter," I sighed.

His laugh boomed again, as he raised his cup and took a drink.*

Chapter 7

I sat looking at the table, "Last winter...that was a pretty hard one, wasn't it?"

She groaned, "The coldest I can remember!"

"So...did you have to sleep with him?" I asked, even though I guess her answer. "Did he try anything with you?"

Her face reddened and she looked quickly away. Slowly, Sam began to speak...this time as if she was choosing her words carefully.

*As bedtime approached, I climbed up the tall stairs. Kodiak stayed below and watched me ascend. I stood at the loft's door and he called up softly from below, "Don't worry, Samantha. I ain't that type of guy. I'll leave you be." I turned and looked at him, feeling deep down he was sincere and honest.

I slowly retreated into the darkness of the loft, alone and afraid of the transformation that had befallen my young body. Below, Kodiak cleaned in the kitchen then quietly sat in an old rocker, its constant rhythmic creaking gave an air of quiet comfort to the little cabin.

I sat down upon the strange bed, its straw ticking rustling under my weight. A small window was centered beneath the peak, distorted glass created swirling patterns of the darkened trees outside. I stood and slowly moved to the shaft of moonlight that was beaming through the little window. Outside, the swaying brown grasses gave sound to the late autumn scene below.

I glanced back toward the bed, my silhouette cutting a feminine figure in the illuminated path. I sighed and gently ran my fingers through my now longer hair, at the end of my slender fingertips I held a golden strand. "Why did this have to happen to me?" I softly cried as I let the hair fall against my sloping breast.

I hesitantly touched the swell that had only days before been absent, the weight and pull left no doubt that they were attached. My hands fell along my waist, now tapered and as feminine as any girl would have at my age. Embarrassed with myself, I pulled my hand away and returned to the bed.

I lay prone on the narrow bed, my dress creating a billowing blanket about my legs. I wouldn't undress, I was afraid to....afraid of what I would find. I slowly pulled a thick quilt up my body and held it there beneath my chin, tears silently falling against the cool pillow.

My mind was in a tormented state, questions danced through my aching head for most of the early evening. "Would I ever be able to return to normal? Could I live as this girl that I've become if I couldn't change back?" I rolled over and stared into the night, the window providing my terrified mind an avenue of escape as I studied the gently swaying trees outside.

Down below, I could hear Kodiak softly humming to himself. Every so often he would quietly sing out the words of his song, then drop back into humming the pleasant tune. I fell asleep to his tune, a melody that finally rescued my mind and let me slip away into a world of dreams.

Long before morning came I sat up, then, realizing that what I had dreamed was based on reality. I HAD somehow been changed into a woman. I tossed back the quilt and stood slowly, gently walking toward the window. The ground was thinly covered with a light dusting of snow, and winter would be soon upon us. I looked over to the bed, a sigh brought a vaporous breath from my mouth making me realize that my time alone could be very short indeed!

I lightly tip-toed to the top of the steps, one floor below and to my left, Kodiak slept. His great bushy beard hiding his face from view, hair like I would never have on my own chin. My hand felt my face's smoothness, I wondered what I looked like, but, without a mirror...I would have to take Kodiak's word on how I appeared. But did I really want to look into a mirror?

Again my eyes wandered back toward his peaceful, sleeping face. I smiled, wondering what he looked like without the great whiskers that grew about his lip and chin. I slowly eased myself down the stairs, the dress seemed to dust each step as I descended. Once on the floor, I silently walked into the kitchen and pulled down his skillet from the wall.

I quietly opened the stove and pushed slender sticks into its door, reaching up, I adjusted the flue and struck a match. Soon a tiny fire was crackling and popping within the stove's interior. I picked up the coffee pot and looked inside, black grounds and dark water were all that was left. I frowned, then looked out the little glass window nearby, it was still very dark outside.

Slowly I headed toward the door, contemplating whether to go and get water. On a hook hung a small kerosene lantern, I pulled it down and gently shook it. Inside it was half full of the precious liquid, I turned the little wick up and using a burning stick pulled from the stove, brought the lantern to life.

Beside the door hung a thick, crocheted shawl. I assumed that it once had been Samantha's, placed it over my shoulder and hurried out the door so not to completely cool down the little cabin's interior.

The first thing that I realized once I closed the door behind me was that it had become bitterly cold outside! Only yesterday, it had seemed much warmer and pleasant. I held one end of the shawl over my face and hurried to his well, the bucket was quickly raised and after rinsing the pot first, I filled it with the ice-cold water. I quickly lowered the bucket into the well and turned back toward the house with the fresh water in the coffeepot. Just to the left of the cabin I could make out a small shed, hesitantly I made my way toward it, placing the coffee water next to the cabin's door.

As I stood near the short shed door, I could hear movement inside, but it wasn't of any large animal but rather, several smaller ones. Quietly I pushed the door open and held the lantern just inside, I could see several chickens as they roosted within their little boxes. "Eggs!" I exclaimed, stepping inside the little area.

As I was exiting the coop, I spied his smokehouse, so I crossed the short distance and noticed the door slightly ajar. Fearing a bear, I timidly began to push it open. Suddenly, the door was pulled from my grasp and my heart jumped as I looked into the chest of a great hairy beast. I screamed and stumbled back into the snow, eggs breaking in my cradling grasp, covering my chest with the yellow yolk.

Quickly struggling into a seated position I heard a short laugh, "We've got to stop meeting like this, Samantha."

I looked up at the voice, it was Kodiak. "Good morning!" he laughed, offering me his huge hand. I accepted his assistance as he quickly pulled me to my feet. "Hope I didn't scare you too much?"

I scraped my dress of the slimy yolk, angrily flipping it into the snow. "I thought you were a bear...again." I growled.

He laughed and pulled the smokehouse door closed behind him, locking it with a great iron padlock. "That should keep your bear out!" He took my lantern and pointed back toward the coop, "Do we need to make a quick stop there?" I frowned my answer and he broke into a short laugh.

After a begrudging stop back at the chicken coop, we returned to the house with our supplies. "I guess you'll probably be wanting to get out of those clothes?" He smiled as he gestured toward my dress, I looked down as he pointed his large finger at the slimy stain on the blue material.

"I have nothing..." I frowned, trying to clean it with a rag.

He sat the lantern in the center of the table, gently took my hand and pulled me to the base of the loft. As he climbed up quietly, he dragged a large trunk to the top of the stairs. "You'll find what you need in there!" He hoisted it onto a broad shoulder and carried it down. Once it was placed upon the floor, he flipped the lid open and quietly walked away.

I stood staring into the trunk, his deceased wife's clothing still lay folded since her death. I knew he expected me to change, but I hesitated on actually picking clothing that would match the body that I possessed. After a few frightened minutes I pulled out a dark dress, which was heavy and would be warm on a cold day like today.

Stepping quickly up the stairs, I placed it on the bed, my breath revealing just how fast my clothing change would need to be. The air was icy cold as I dropped the blue dress onto the floor, the egg had soaked through the dress and into the first petticoat, it too was deposited with the soiled dress. With the speed of lightning, I quickly scrambled my frozen body into the burgundy, calico dress.

I reached behind me and buttoned as far up as I could, from the top I buttoned down as far as I could reach. Somehow I managed all but one single button, I would have to ask for help with that one. As a criminal to the gallows I slowly climbed down the steps and approached Kodiak, "Can you button up the last one for me?"

He smiled sadly and stood up from the fireplace where he had been dropping a heavy log into the glowing coals. "You look beautiful in this dress. It was one of Samantha's favorites." He forced a smile as I turned my back to him, "This'll be a first time in a long while...for me."

"How's that?" I asked.

"It's been years since I've had a lovely woman in my house alone." He let his eyes slowly give me the once over, "I think Samantha was still alive the last time." With a sigh he answered, "Probably, by now, I should be trying to go the other way with a young lady's dress, and unbutton them."

I again scowled at him, but his eyes twinkled slightly and a wide smile seemed to stretch his beard. With an embarrassed sigh, I returned to the kitchen. I knew his mind was elsewhere, as he followed and leaned against the outside door. As he watched me, his expression softened even further. I looked up, "What's wrong?" I asked.

He looked down at the floor, "Seeing you in that dress, calling you Samantha... God I miss her!" His eyes took on a glassy appearance, and I felt a knot tighten on my own throat as he fought back his tears.

"Maybe you should stop calling me 'Samantha'," I observed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, knowing that I must be bringing back so many sad memories to him. He shrugged and pulled his huge, heavy jacket off and hung it on a wooden peg.

He sadly walked away and into the other room, taking a seat on his rocking chair. In silence, I continued with our breakfast, knowing that my being here was a sad reminder of his wife, even though I didn't want to be thought of as anything resembling a female.

After breakfast, Kodiak left to check his traps, informing me that he would be gone for two days. During that time, I began to earn my keep and clean his home, trying to think of anything to break the quiet of the little cabin. By the end of the day I was standing by the kitchen window, wondering if he was staying warm in the soft feathery snow that was drifting past under the darkening sky.

When morning came, I busied myself with cleaning the blue dress and petticoat, so I began filling a wide tub with clean white snow and heating it on the stove. I scrubbed the clothing, becoming satisfied once the stain had become removed. I decided that since the water was relatively warm, I searched in Kodiak's dirty clothes and began to wash out his large shirts and pants. Once done, I carried them into the loft and stretched a string I had found from one end to the other, suspending the few items that had been clean on the line.

My breath froze in the air like smoke; the loft would be bitterly cold tonight. I knew that he would expect me to sleep downstairs soon, but what terrified me was the fear of what else he would expect of me as well! I frowned surveying my work, wondering how long the older man could maintain his control around me. It was obvious that he missed the companionship of a female, now that he had one for an entire winter...albeit reluctant, would he act on his advantage?

I quickly forced from my mind the fear that I had placed into it. He hadn't done anything to me yet, so why would he start now? I touched the stiff clothing, they would harden in the icy chill of the loft. Knowing that it would take a while, eventually they would freeze dry on their own, so perhaps I would have to come up later today and shake the ice from them one or two times. I gladly returned to the warm lower floor, and held my frozen fingers to the fireplace. The warmth enveloped me and radiated as I stirred the coals, watching the flame dance to life on the big log.

Once I was warm enough, I returned to the big tub. Bucket by bucket, I tossed the water outside, away from the house. I returned and fixed myself a small meal. For this meal, I had a potato resting on a rack for the better part of the morning, it was lightly salted and made a warm meal for my tiny body. After eating, I fell asleep beside the fireplace, in Kodiak's bed.

By morning, the light snow I watched yesterday turned vigorous, quickly falling at the rate of an inch an hour. I surveyed the house for work, most of which I had done yesterday. I rummaged inside Samantha's things and found a brush and comb set, also laying with it was a hand mirror with a silver handle. For the first time, I was actually able to see my feminine face.

I was shocked as I finally was able to look into the deep brown eyes of the girl I had become! I could still see features that I had before...only, now they were soft and feminine. My hair was slightly wavy and blonde, giving me the look I imagined my mother must have had. I slowly picked up the brush and began to pull it through my unkempt hair, but after several minutes of constant brushing, I was satisfied that I had made a small improvement in my looks.

I placed the comb set back into the trunk and closed the lid, slowly attempting to push it out of the way and under the stairs. It was heavy and my new feminine muscles strained until it was finally in place. I returned to the window and I saw that the wind and snow blew furiously, almost like a raging animal. I frowned, hoping that Kodiak would be okay during his trip. The fear of being stuck here alone was beginning to overshadow the thoughts of being stuck with him.

With hesitation, I pulled myself from the window and headed back to the wood-bin. I tossed another great log into the fire, then pulled the few remaining out and sat them aside. I knew that at the rate the storm was building, we would need a fresh supply of wood brought back in. I pulled on a blue wool bonnet and tied it down, the winter wind would be cold, however, my now long hair and the bonnet of Samantha's would help to keep my ears from freezing.

I pulled down her shawl and quickly tossed it over my shoulders, over that, I placed a thick animal robe hide. Quickly throwing open the door, I stepped out into the howling wind, pulling it shut behind me. The air was icy and stole my breath, my chest ached from the frozen blast of air. I made my way to the back of the house, under a small overhang, I found rows and rows of neatly stacked logs. I gathered all I could carry and returned to the door, stumbling under their weight.

With one hand, I threw open the door and stumbled inside, a single, great log slipped and fell onto the floor, rolling until it came to rest beside the table. Using my back, I closed the door and stacked what I had into the box. I picked up the fallen log and tossed it with the others. A momentary rest and I again threw open the door, returning to the blustery weather outside. I had feared that with the weather suddenly turning sour, at some point I wouldn't be able to return to the pile before Kodiak came back home. All throughout the day I dragged myself to the woodpile, arms and legs aching from the exertion. Finally, I determined that I had enough wood, as it had spilled over the side of the box and began to be stacked in a long pile next to it. I collapsed into his bed and closed my eyes, only wanting to rest for a few minutes.

When I opened my eyes it was growing light outside, and the room felt like ice, I sat up quickly and looked around...still no Kodiak. I pulled a dry log and ground it into the glowing embers, beside it I pushed a few smaller twigs and sticks. These caught quickly, slowly a warm fire began to build.

I looked out the window, the early morning light began to dawn. The wind had stopped and gently sloping drifts were like arrows pointing away from yesterday's wind source. Still wearing the animal robe and shawl, I headed back outside and fought my way through the deep snow to the well. I filled the bucket and returned to the house. I banked the little kitchen stove and placed water on to boil for coffee, then returned outside to see if any of the chickens had survived the sudden cold snap. Inside, I found two dead chickens, frozen solid during the storm. There were fourteen that seemed no worse for wear, from these I gathered four small eggs and with the two dead chickens, I headed toward the house.

The sun grew bright, almost hurting my eyes as it reflected against the glistening snow as I trudged back toward the door. I laid the dead chickens on the table and placed the eggs in a small basket. I pulled off the jacket and shawl, shaking loose the snow that clung to them and hung them back up upon the wooden pegs.

I returned to the fireplace and stirred the coals, the warmth felt good considering my recent trip out into the snow. The whole bottom edging of the dress I was wearing, had become frozen rock hard, I didn't care for the cold wetness as it lay against my leg. I returned to Samantha's trunk, opened it and removed a long, heavy gray skirt and white blouse with a high collar and long sleeves. I removed the remaining petticoat, and fancy bloomers that the man had forced me to wear, as it was almost as wet as my dress. From the trunk I found a heavy plain petticoat and hand stitched bloomers that I pulled up my slender, almost entirely hairless feminine legs.

Soon enough, I was dressed and warm again, returning to the fireplace. When I had fallen asleep after bringing in the logs, I had almost let the fire die out, but now that it was again warming in the little cabin, the heat had begun melting all the snow that had been on the logs yesterday, creating puddles on the floor. I took rags and mopped up the slowly dripping water. I returned the rags to the peg that they had been on and again paused at the window, noticing that the trees were heavily laden, yet beautifully decorated with the thick snow.

Slowly turning away, I returned to the kitchen and the two dead chickens. I wasn't sure what exactly to do with them. I figured that they had died during the storm, however I was reluctant to throw them outside for fear of drawing a bear into the yard after fresh meat. Instead I decided that since the cold was what killed them, I'd cook them up. I glanced at a large metal pail that was sitting upon the floor just behind the door.

I laid down the birds and gathered the bucket, opened the door and filled it clear full with the fresh, clean snow. I moved quickly as the air was bitterly cold. Returning with the pail to the stove, I sat it down on the back where the heat would melt the snow. With numbed fingers, I continued dropping handfuls of snow into the bucket until, when melted, it had filled it to almost two thirds to the top.

For almost an hour the water sat warming, from time to time I checked it until finally I saw it begin to boil. Once it churned in earnest, I placed the first of the now thawed chickens. I left it in for only a few minutes, then quickly lifted it out by a foot, and dropped it into a pan where I could remove the feathers.

While I was plucking the feathers, I dropped the second chicken into the boiling water. It only was a moment before the first chicken began to cool, as rapidly as I had done in the orphanage, I began to grab great handfuls of the feathers and placed them into a pile on the table. Soon the poor hen was void of her feathers and lay lifeless upon the table. In short order, the other laid beside the first.

When I had the chore at the orphanage, I hated the work because wet feathers smell awful. Now, I hated the thought of letting good meat go to waste. Since I was older, the kitchen was always where they pushed me to work, now, it would seem a benefit since I knew exactly what to do with a recently deceased chicken.

I began to search for a knife, because the big one that Kodiak used was undoubtedly sheathed on his belt. I drew back on an iron drawer pull, wood against wood squeaked shrilly as I opened it further. Inside was a plethora of sharp knives and even contained a small thin, one piece hatchet. I glanced about, and gathered a log from the wood box. Throwing on Samantha's shawl, I took the log outside and stood it up in a snowdrift, returned to the house to retrieve the chickens and hatchet.

I placed my left hand as support against the body, with one quick strike, the animal was beheaded and both feet soon followed. I pushed it deep into the snow where the blood would seep down and freeze, not becoming an ugly mess drawing carnivorous animals from the woods. Begrudgingly, I followed with the second hen.
I stood knee-deep in the icy crystals of the drift, breath hanging in a great vaporous cloud about my face, only to be slowly pushed away by the wind. I bent down, holding my dress aside and cleaned the hatchet in the white glistening snow, my teeth chattering in the blistering cold air. Tossing the feet and heads as far into the woods as my now weakened arm would let me, I gathered the naked birds and returned into the warmth of the house.

I stood at the table and examined the birds further, plucking any tiny feathers I had missed. Using a lit candle, I singed the tiniest feathers away that my numbed fingers couldn't grasp from the bird. Then, taking a sharp knife, I held the bird over a pan and began to cut along its soft underside. Within several minutes, I had both of the chicken's entrails removed and carried them and the chickens far from the cabin. I packed their chest cavities with clean snow, shook the snow loose, and was able to clean them of their blood. I returned with the bucket, filled with water, and began to wash the blood from each bird. After washing them out, and tossing the red liquid into the woods, fearfully glanced over my shoulder and quickly returned to the house.

Once safely inside the cabin, I cleaned the hatchet with fresh water, dried it and returned it to the drawer. I returned to the fire and stirred the coals, and the effort helped warm my frozen fingers. Once I had warmed enough, I began to cut up the birds into smaller sections using a knife I found in the drawer when I put the hatchet away.

Both birds weren't very large; in fact, they were relativity small. But between the two, they would make a decent meal. I found a bowl that Kodiak had stored a type of grease into, and using the knife, I scraped it into the iron skillet and watched it slide toward its center under the intense heat.

As the grease melted, hurriedly ran outside to rinse and refill the bucket of water. Once done I hastily retreated to the warmth of the cabin once again. I took the shawl from my shoulders and returned it to the hook, beside it hung the blue bonnet made from wool. I began to search the cupboards, finding a bag of wheat seeds, these I placed a few scoops into a coffee grinder and pulverized them into a soft almond-colored dust.

Using a single egg, I made a slimy concoction and rolled each small piece of chicken in it, then deposited it into the bowl of wheat flour dust. Each portion was then deposited into the hot grease where it bubbled and sizzled. For almost a half hour I continued cooking the pieces until I had a small pile of the warm, steaming chicken, fried and on a plate.

I looked out the window; I knew Kodiak would be returning soon. I busied myself by taking the wheat flour and leftover egg, combining it into several small balls where I placed them into a pie tin. Opening a small door of the stove, I pushed the pie tin inside and quickly closed it. I wondered if I was doing all of this for him, cooking to return the favor of letting me stay in his home?

I watched the bubbling grease in the pan as it danced alone among the small broken pieces of batter. I was torn by my feelings of being so domestic, unsure of whether it was the transformation or if it was just me trying to be helpful.

I searched through his tall potato bin and retrieved six soft potatoes; these needed to be used soon as they were old. I washed each one, and began to slice them into the heated grease. I found a mushy onion and sat it outside until I had finished the potatoes, after I had the potatoes finished, I retrieved the frozen onion and cut it quickly into the potatoes. These were fried into a golden brown, the smell of the meal hung beautifully in the air of the cabin. I kept turning the sizzling vegetables in the skillet, once done, began to spoon them into a large bowl. So occupied with my project, as I was turning, I ran into a towering wall of fur.

"I could smell that all the way up the mountain!" he smiled, grabbing the bowl as it fell from my shocked fingers. "It was sure a welcome thing to behold, that smell was."

I clutched at my chest, trying to still my rapidly beating heart. "I didn't hear you come in!"

He laughed, "I came in slow, been inside for awhile warming up, watching you cook."

"You must be frozen!" I said, helping him out of his heavy hide coat. "I'll get you some coffee while you go warm yourself by the fire."

He smiled as I lugged the heavy hide to the peg where he hung it. "Looks like you've been pretty busy around here," he said, looking around his cabin.

"Not too busy," I said gathering my apron into my hand, so not to burn myself and pouring his coffee. "I just wanted to be helpful," I said as I handed him the steaming cup. He turned and walked back toward the fireplace.

"Looks like you've brought in half of my woodpile." He kidded as he tossed a huge log inside, using one hand, without any effort at all. I winced, it had taken me a single trip to struggle with two just like that one.

"I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get back to the pile, it was snowing so hard!" He nodded and hung his long muzzle-loader on the pegs above the doorway, then stomped the snow from his boots. I looked at the floor, he had tracked in small clumps of snow all over the clean floor. I felt myself sigh.

He glanced down in the direction I had been looking, "Sorry about that. I'll pick it all up before it melts." He smiled, bent down and began to drop the packed snow into his huge palm.

As he continued to gather snow, I set the table and placed his coffee cup on one end. He quickly tossed the handful outside and returned to the kitchen. "Smells good."

I smiled, though I wasn't sure why. He stood as I examined the table, then he set down a small bowl of coarse salt. Again he stood quietly and waited, I gave him a curious look as he moved around the table to my side. As he pulled out my chair he smiled, "A gentleman always holds a seat for a pretty girl. Even if he is as old as dirt!" I felt my face grow warm, and I was sure that my cheeks were beet red.

I demurely sat down and watched him walk to his side and pull out his chair, as he took his seat he glanced up at me. Slowly, he took a bite of the chicken, almost hesitant of its taste.

He eyes widened as he chewed, "My Lord, this is heaven!" He took another bite, tearing the tender flesh from the bone with his strong white teeth. "Sure beats my Samantha's all to pieces!" He stabbed at the potatoes, chewing slowly as if to savor the flavor. "Unlike you, she couldn't cook very well...she was just pretty to look at. You seem to have both of those covered!" Again my face grew warm.

He took a long drink of the steaming coffee, then returned his cup down and picked out another golden piece of the chicken. "I'm surprised a dainty little thing like you would clean a bird. Gonna make it hard for me to let you go away from the cabin after all of this!"

I picked at the chicken with my fork, unsure of how to take all of his praise. He grew quiet, "You ever been alone, with a fella before?" I choked and quickly took a drink, then laughed. "No, I guess not."

He smiled, pushing a chicken bone to the side of his plate, "Didn't figure as much, especially since you don't look very old." He looked upward, taking a deep sniff. "Do I smell biscuits?"

I felt the blood rush from my face, quickly scrambling to my feet and again using my apron, pulled the pie tin from the stove. "Burned." I frowned at the dark brown surface of each one.

He looked at the pan and pulled one down to his plate, "Nonsense, they're just the way I like them!" He grinned like a little boy with a bag full of candy. "Only one thing they're needing."

I raised my eyebrows, "And that is?"

He stood up grabbed the smokehouse key and stepped out the door, leaving me alone in the kitchen. Finally, after a few minutes, he returned. He lifted a small frozen ball in his hands, "Butter!"

"Butter?" I asked, wondering who had made it for him.

"I trucked it back from town on a whim about two weeks ago. There's eleven more in the smokehouse just like this one." He sat it in a small flowered teacup, with a gold leaf handle.

I laughed as the little ball rolled around and around with each attempt he made to slice off a small pat for his bread, after a few tries, he succeeded and was able to spread the white butter on the warm bread. He took a bite and rolled his eyes, "Now that's a biscuit!"

I sat in amazement as the big man continued to eat, I wasn't sure if it was from being away so long, or if he actually found what I had made, palatable. Finally, when everything had been consumed, he stood and ran his hand through his wild hair. "You keep cooking for me like that, and we'll get along just fine!" He smiled as he pushed in his chair.

While I cleaned the dishes from the table, Kodiak began to melt snow in the great tub for me. It surprised me that he actually stood beside my small frame and dried each one as I placed it upon the table. He ushered me into the living room and had me sit on his rocker.

While I sat watching him, he made several trips to the outside, each return trip he would drop clean snow into the great washtub. After he had the wash tub completely full, he disappeared under the steps only to return with an even bigger tub, one end being higher than the other. As his snow melted, he began to fill the bigger tub with the steaming water. Again and again he repeated this process until he had the bigger tub about half full.

Even as I sat watching he began to slide his suspenders from his wide shoulders. I couldn't believe my eyes as he kicked his boots from his feet. "Could you toss on another couple of logs, I'm intending to take a bath. Wouldn't do to catch a cold this time of year."

I quickly scrambled to the log pile and tossed on two logs, trying to refrain from looking at him undress. Behind me I heard a splashing, a quick glance let me know that he was safely hidden beneath the water. "It's a mite cool, could you get me a few pans of the melted snow and dump them in here? They should be warmed up enough to take the chill off the bath water."

I felt my eyes dart to the steaming pan, 'He couldn't be serious?' I thought.

He sat and watched me, as if waiting for the first bucket of steaming water to be dumped. Apparently, he was entirely serious. With hesitation, I hoisted the heavy bucket down and slowly poured it into the tub. All the while, I tried to shield my eyes from looking at his nakedness.

As he scrubbed himself with a small bar of homemade soap, he grinned at my attempts to shield my eyes from him. "After I'm done here, you can have a go at the tub."

"I'll pass," I said, pouring the remainder of the bucket into the water. "I have no desire letting you or any other man sees me without my clothes on."

"That's a durn shame," he grinned, then tossed the bar into the empty bucket as I begin pulling it away. "Set the bucket down and come wash my back."

"I can't do that!" I gasped in shock.

"Why? Afraid of seeing something you might like?" he laughed to himself as he used a rag to wipe the tops of his broad shoulders. "Don't tell me you ain't never seen a man before?"

"I've seen a man before," I shot back, remembering exactly what my own male body used to look like when I had it. "I just don't want to see yours!"

His great laugh boomed so loudly that it startled me, "It ain't like I'm asking for you to step in here with me! I just want you to scrub my back!" He pointed to the bucket, "Come on now, hurry up, the water's cooling down!"

I hesitantly picked up the slippery soap, then headed to the back of the tub where he was leaning forward. Slowly, I began to scrub at his back. "Can't tell you how long it's been since I had a pretty girl wash my back. Been a year or two in the least!"

I bent down and raced the soap against his muscular back, wide shoulders and hard torso. My hands looked so white against his skin, so strange, so small, so feminine. He placed the rag upon his shoulder, I took it and started to scrub him vigorously, creating a milky lather in the water. "You can rinse me off with the bucket," he spoke, his voice breaking the stillness of the room.

I dipped the bucket into the heated water, then returned to the tub where I poured it on him, washing the suds from his large frame. "That's the ticket, nothing more refreshing than having a good looking woman to bathe a fella!"

I felt my face grow warm as I turned to sit the bucket on the table. Behind me, he scrubbed the soap into his hair and beard. "Normally, I'd wait until spring before I bathe, with a woman in the house, I figure I should do it a bit more often!" He smiled as he leaned forward and submerged his head in the water.

As I stood I spoke angrily, "And if you think that by cleaning up, I'll allow you in my bed..."

"My bed," he laughed, correcting me.

"Still...You have another think coming!" I stamped my little foot, irritated by what I assumed that he intended.

The glow from the fireplace flame danced its reflection upon the wall. Kodiak finished his bath and without warning, stood up and plucked a towel from a nail. It was as if he moved with the speed of lightning, so I wasn't sure if it was from the chill of the cold or because he didn't want to be seen by me. It didn't matter though, because my eyes drank it all in even before I could force them to shut.

The water glistened upon his chest, highlighting the strong muscles of his abdomen. It rolled over his graying chest hair and down his biceps and onto his forearms, dripping from his fingers. His thighs were thick with muscle, all of his walking, building them up with strength and sinew. His arm shot out to wrap the towel around his waist, but not before I spotted his long maleness suspended beneath a great mass of dark curls.*