Page 4 of Untouchable

Ox

I expect a cabin. Instead, we pull up to a motorhome that’s been affixed to a slab of concrete and piped into the ground. I’ve heard of people living like this but haven’t seen it before myself. Everyone’s got a different name for them, but they all mean the same. People like Jo move constantly, live out of trailers, and don’t pay taxes. Hell, from what I’ve heard, I think it’s customary that they all meet up in the desert once a year for an orgy.

I need to make a note to work that into my conversation later.

“How long have you been here?” I ask, still lying flat in the backseat of her car. It’s a Honda Civic and an extremely tight squeeze for a man my size.

“Almost a year. I didn’t plan on settling down, but I got talking to Raven Baxter and she’s the one who was telling me that there was a rental space for a studio in town, so I thought I’d try it out for a while. I’ve always wanted to teach yoga, and I guess I needed a push. So, when one of the Baxters lays out a studio, her uncle’s goats, and some land to park on, you listen. Prior to that conversation, all I did was find ways to second guess myself.”

As we park outside the fifth wheel, I ask, “Why didn’t you think you could teach yoga?” The more I know about her, the easier it’ll be to figure out who the hell this asshole is that’s following her.

“Well,” she laughs, standing up out of the car, “I’m not in the kind of shape you’d think a yoga teacher would be.” The car door slams shut, and she looks at me through the window.

She looks in perfectly good shape to me.

“How are we going to do this?” Her voice is muffled through the glass, and I can’t help but laugh under my breath. Does she not realize that she’s talking to me through her car door? Whoever’s watching her would know I was here by now. That or they’d think she’s crazy. It blows my mind the way people glaze over details.

I sit up and open the door, exposing myself to the open. I make a mental note of the space outside. A forest surrounds us and there’s an open valley to the north. “We’re not. I’m going to walk in. Unlock the door, please.”

She moves quickly, and though the trailer is stable, it shakes as I climb up the steps.

“Holy shit.” She glances back toward me. “You really make this place look small.”

I feel like I make this place look small. Inside, my head nearly brushes the top of the trailer and the slightly smaller version of everything is overwhelmingly tiny against my frame.

That said, I’m impressed with what she’s done to the place. She’s completely renovated the space. I help myself to a tour. The kitchen isn’t a standard kitchenette like you’d expect in some trailers. There’s a full-size fridge, an oven, granite countertops, and a pantry. Behind that is a little sitting room with skylights above it.

Dark curtains stay pulled over the windows and a laptop sits on the small dining room table that looks custom built.

I climb three steps to find a loft that’s stuffed to the gills with bins before exploring further and finding a bathroom with tile floors and water droplets dripping from the head. The final stop is her bedroom in the back with a king bed and sage green linens and a closet with a stacked washer and dryer.

“You really helped yourself,” she says, as I step back into the kitchen.

“Sorry, force of habit. Always secure the environment upon entering.”

The hum of the fridge rattles in the background as Jo attends to dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ve never been in one of these things. They’re pretty crazy,” I say, opening the control panel on the wall to study the details.

“The best part is the back balcony. Come on. I’ll show you.” Setting a glass up in the cupboard, she leads me past the living room onto the screened porch in the back. I don’t step out at risk of exposing myself again. Instead, I stay in the doorway as she spins around the small space.

She’s gorgeous. Dark blonde hair, full pink lips, curves, and a smile I don’t want to look away from. This place makes her happy. That much is clear. She points toward the rocking chairs and a table she’s set up with a little flowerpot in the center.

“It’s pretty great. Does this fold up when you’re driving?”

She nods. “Yeah. It’s awesome. I could also lower that bar and load four wheelers or whatever onto it, so I don’t have to tow them.”

“You ride four wheelers?”

“I did, but I haven’t in a long while. What about you?”

“Grew up riding ‘em. As a kid, that was all we did, and I got back into them again in Arizona. There’s so much space out there. You can go for miles and not run into anyone.”

I’ve wanted that kind of land for so long. Something where you’re so isolated that it might as well be your own deserted island. As my mind drifts, I can feel a sigh leave my lips.

Jo catches it quickly and says, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” I chuckle a little as I say, “I guess that’s just what the thought of homesteading does to me. Kind of like your yoga, I might need a push to finally do it.”