Savage Cinderella

by PJ Sharon

  “Let’s give her some space,” said Brinn, leading Justin away from the meadow. The mother bear’s feeding time with her cubs was an intimate act of love that filled Brinn with joy at its beauty, yet reminded her of the loss of connection to her own mother. The moment seemed best left to the privacy of nature.

  While Justin followed behind her on his crutch, testing his ability to manage the uneven ground of the forest, Brinn led him to a small brook that ran down the mountainside not far from her cabin. This time of year, the water flowed fast, overfull from the snowmelt at the higher elevations. The water was cold, crystal clear, and bubbling along at a brisk pace, except for an area sheltered by several large boulders. Here, the water pooled and circled, creating an illusionary safe haven for the trout and bass that were making their way down to the tributaries and lakes far below. It was her favorite fishing spot.

  It dawned on her that if she hadn’t ventured to a new spot further downstream, she wouldn’t have met Justin and he wouldn’t be here with her now. This time, she was filled with gratitude as she sat on her heels in the shallow, icy water. When she plucked their dinner out of the stream with her bare hands, Justin’s smile lit up like the sun, warming her deep inside. She didn’t know why his approval meant so much to her, but it did. Was it foolish to want him to like her? It shouldn’t matter to her; he wouldn’t be here long. Her heart sank at the thought.

  Later, after they returned to the cabin, they shared an evening meal of trout, steamed vegetables, and another can of ravioli. They chatted over dinner, his offer to help her clean up afterward, accepted with alacrity. She’d never had anyone to share chores with. He organized her books alphabetically while she swept the floor and arranged a bouquet of deep purple hyssop and bright yellow tansy into a tarnished silver vase, setting it carefully in the center of the table. Her cabin lit up, bright and full of life with the remnants of the late afternoon sun streaming in.

  "So, I think I should be mobile enough to hike down the mountain by tomorrow. Would you show me the way back to a main trail? I can find the rest of the way on my own."

  Brinn grew solemn. While she wasn't used to having someone underfoot and dependent on her, she was enjoying Justin’s company and a part of her dreaded the idea of him leaving her alone again. His presence made her realize how painfully alone she had been.

  Quickly registering the disappointment that sprung to her face, he added, "Or you could come with me. You could stay at my condo in Atlanta until we figure out who you are. Maybe we can find some of your family."

  Brinn shot out of the chair and stalked around the room. Nervous and agitated, she paced—the roiling energy inside building momentum like an uncaged animal ready to spring. "I can't leave the mountains. This is my home. I told you—I have no family. My parents are dead." Her voice rose, panicked frenzy breaking the surface. She wanted to revel in the fact that he wanted her to come with him, but fear silenced her hope and strung her nerves tight.

  Justin rushed to calm her, "Okay, you don't have to come with me, but maybe I can help you. I can come back and bring you supplies to make it easier to stay here. I could help you fix this place up and bring you clean sheets and towels and stuff." He looked around the cabin, unmistakably unimpressed.

  An old familiar sensation, a poisonous rush of shame, soured her stomach. She had seen him bathe himself thoroughly each day, shaving the needles off his face, scrubbing his teeth with a ragged end of a twig, and combing his hair with his fingers until the thick waves looked soft and silky.

  Brinn looked down at her own appearance and cringed. Keeping her hands clean seemed prudent, and she cleaned her teeth every day, but she didn't wash her clothes or bathe as often as she would have liked, and her hair had grown tangled and knotted. The stream water was cold and the air brisk through the winter and spring months. At least in the summer she could take advantage of the swimming holes and waterfalls that sprang up out of the forest at every turn. Making a fire for warmth or to cook food was done out of necessity, and she took advantage of the opportunity to clean up whenever she could, but to heat water just for the purpose of washing away the dirt of the forest seemed futile. Although Justin made it his first priority each morning and the results were undeniably appealing.

  She hated to compare herself to other people. Strangers, even at a distance, made her feel unwanted and unacceptable with their looks of disdain and judgment. Her appearance kept them from approaching her, and she felt safer for it. Knowing she would never fit in, she avoided the cold glares of disapproval by staying out of sight. She noticed Abby's clean clothes, perfect yellow hair, and shiny white teeth, but never felt like her friend looked down on her for being less...less...civilized.

  "I don't need anything from you." She bit her lip and turned to face the fire. "You should just go back to your life and forget I’m here." She suddenly felt very small and young, her emotions mixing in a way she didn’t understand.

  The day had passed and the cool of night in the mountains settled in. A raw chill shivered along her limbs. Before she knew it, he was on his feet and limping toward her. He stopped short as she glanced over her shoulder, halting his approach.

  "I didn't mean to make you feel bad, Brinn." His expression was one of regret. Worse than regret, she saw pity, and the weight of it was unbearable. She didn't want or need his pity. She survived by being alone. She had been fine for the last eight seasons and she would be fine when he left.

  "May I touch you?" he asked. He stood so close now that she could feel his breath warm on her neck. A part of her wanted more than anything to feel him touch her. Over the past days together, the invisible barrier she’d created between them was set in a hard line—a line that he had not crossed and had fully respected. Now, she felt him struggle not to reach out, not to take her in his arms, not to take her...

  "I can't..." She whispered, closing her eyes to block out the blaze that flushed her skin from the fire. But she couldn't block out the flames that burned inside her flesh. Heat radiated from Justin's body, only inches behind her, igniting sensations she never imagined she could feel. An aching need filled her, a longing that brought confusion crashing in around her. To be touched, to be held gently, to be...loved. Was it wrong to want such a thing?

  "I only want to hold you. I won't do anything else." He stood behind her, waiting patiently for a response, his calm energy more powerful than any words of comfort. "Let me hold you, Brinn."

  Whenever he said her name, a tender glow washed over her and infused her with a sense of belonging. The long-held feeling of being invisible disappeared. He could see her and he seemed to know exactly what she needed. Her heart filled with gratitude at his presence. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she leaned back, closing the remaining inches between them.

  Justin lifted his hands, placed them gently on her shoulders and drew her back against him, resting his chin on the top of her head. The fire warmed her front and Justin’s body sheltered her from the cold night at her back. The sensation of solid warmth filled her to the point of peaceful surrender. His hands were like blankets, large and soft, warm and comforting. Brinn basked in the feel of his firm chest against her back, the way her bottom fit perfectly in the hollow between his thighs. Then she stiffened as she felt the hard length of him against her lower back. "Justin, do you have to pee?"

  "Not this time." He turned her to face him—shadows of golden firelight illuminating his tender smile—and carefully wiped away her tears with soft fingertips. "Sometimes...good men," he stressed, "when they...care for a woman and want to be close, sometimes it happens then, too." He was obviously referring to the hardness that pressed against his pants. She knew she should be frightened, and part of her was, but another part of her knew that what happened to his body when he was close to her was natural. She’d been doing some reading. That he responded to her in such a way meant that he found her attractive—-a possibility she’d never considered before. It left her feeling anxious, confused, but somehow hopef
ul.

  "Can I have my bed back?" Brinn sniffed through self-conscious tears and then she smiled as Justin laughed.

  "Of course you can. I offered it to you last night but you refused." He looked down into her face, his infectious expression of warmth and teasing making her smile widen.

  "I wanted to stay awake. I wasn't sure what you might do if I fell asleep." She yawned deeply.

  "I'm sorry; I should have known. You’re safe with me," he whispered over the top of her head and brought his hands to her back, tracing a cluster of small pock marks on the back of one shoulder. She flinched as he ran his fingers over the spot. Stifling the question that hung in the air, he added instead, "You take the bed and I'll sleep on the floor by the fire."

  Brinn pulled back to peer up into wide eyes, golden brown in the firelight. The white line of a thin scar intersected his dark brow, and another small faded mark sat high on his cheekbone below his right eye. His nose angled slightly off center. The scars were old and weren’t noticeable from farther away, but up close like this, they were clearly visible. They didn’t detract from his handsome features, however. Instead, they added a wisdom and understanding to his face that made his eyes wells of compassion. Looking into them was like falling into a deep pool, a sense, not of drowning, but of diving downward, as if she wanted to go deeper, only she was afraid she couldn't hold her breath long enough to make it back to the sunlit surface.

  She rested her palms on his chest, which she noticed moved in and out a bit faster than usual. His heart pounded a thundering rhythm beneath her hands. She didn't want to let him go. She liked his arms around her—this idea of being held, not taken.

  "Justin, since you’re leaving tomorrow, do you think you could...would you mind...holding me while I sleep?" Starved for touch and security for so long, the thought of snuggling in the warmth of his embrace brought a startling sense of need and rightness surging to the forefront. When his smile widened, peace washed over her, carrying away the last of the lingering apprehension.

  He lifted her chin so their eyes met. "It would be an honor."

  ∞∞∞

  Brinn lay awake for a long time, listening to Justin's breathing and feeling the warmth of it on her cheek. With her back to him, he seemed to have naturally enveloped her, the firm curves of his body outlining hers perfectly, his arms loosely wrapped around her like a sheltering cocoon. To her relief, any sign of stiffness in his male parts had disappeared. She relaxed into him. Everything about him felt raw and new. The scent of him compelled her to draw in deep breaths, memorizing the sweet, earthy aroma of his unique marker. She wanted to wrap herself in it and remember it when he was gone. It was the smell of safety, protection, and home. She drifted into sleep.

  She was running across a field, trying to get away: away from the dark, away from the smell of blood, away from the crawling of her skin. But she couldn't run fast enough. Her legs felt heavy as if she carried a bag of rocks on her back. She tried to get them off, but they clung like rough hands, pulling her down under their weight.

  She struggled and screamed, thrashing until she came fully awake in Justin's arms, his voice calm and soothing in her ear.

  "Brinn, it's all right. I'm here. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt you. You're safe." His words stroked along her spine, mimicking the movement of his hands on her hair and cheek.

  Her face was wet with tears, but the numbing coldness of fear spilled out around her like an icy cloak. She shook as Justin held her, his warm embrace tethering her to the light. His touch kept the darkness from taking her. As he continued with soft assurances, his gentle strength poured out. He held her until she crumbled into his arms completely. She buried her face in his shirt and wept until the darkness of night gave way to the dawn.

  Chapter 8

  Saying Good-bye

  Brinn wrapped the crux of the homemade crutch with rags, creating a padded surface for Justin to lean on. It took them half the next day to reach a trail that opened to clear views of the valley far below. Together, they made their way through the dense forest and down the steep slopes of the endless mountains. The going was arduous as Justin limped along behind Brinn, who made sure they stopped for frequent rests.

  Neither had slept much the night before and fatigue showed on both their faces, he knew. Brinn never spoke about her dream or what had made her shake and sob through the night, and Justin couldn’t bring himself to ask. All he did was hold her tight and feel her pain. The intensity of it shook him to the core. It was a night he wouldn’t forget.

  When they reached an opening in the thick foliage where he could look out over the mountains, he recognized Brasstown Bald only a few peaks away, the smaller Blood Mountain in its wake. Taking note of rock formations and peculiar features, he wondered if he could ever find the little cabin again on his own. There were hundreds of thousands of acres of wilderness in the Smokies and Blue Ridge ranges, areas that weren't patrolled regularly or even hunted in because of the difficult terrain. But he’d spent enough time in the woods to have a few tricks of his own. The wet boulders and constant moisture in the air suggested that he must be in the Northeast section of the park in the cloud forest of the Chattahoochee National Reserve. He’d studied the maps several times before venturing off the marked trails on his own to catch the most unusual of natural sites for his magazine. He smiled at the memory of his first encounter with Brinn and the awesome photos he’d captured.

  They hiked on in silence, listening to the chatter of chipmunks, the chirp of the chickadees, and the whistle of the breeze that danced along the ridge.

  As Justin struggled to gain his footing along the steep descent, his ankle throbbed from the effort. Yet the waif-like girl ahead of him negotiated slippery slopes and overgrown pathways like a mountain goat. Her long legs were muscular and strong. She wore the same pair of cutoff cargo pants and the flowered halter he'd seen her in the first day by the creek. Some new clothing for her would be first on his list of supplies he would bring when he came back.

  He would definitely have to come back for his camera or have Brinn retrieve it for him. He’d lost it in the fall and his backpack was left behind at the creek. He wanted to save that incredible first moment when he had seen her, crouching in the stream and tossing a fish up out of the water—a moment he would never forget. He hated leaving behind the only evidence he had of her existence. If it were up to him, they would see each other again.

  Brinn moved with surety through the dense underbrush, swinging her machete in an even rhythm ahead of her and cutting a path through the ferns.

  Justin couldn’t help but admire her lithe body as she trekked seamlessly through the forest. Her clothes were worn and clung in the drizzling dampness like a second skin, showing the curve of her hips and the outline of her small breasts, her nipples peaked from the cool breeze. The boots she wore looked like they were part of her feet with the soft leather wrapped up around her ankles. She had a small pouch at the back of her belt and her knife sheathed at her side. Her hair was tied back in a snarled bunch with a piece of blue ribbon, a simple reminder of the world she’d left behind.

  Her face was streaked with dirt, but every time she looked back to see what progress Justin was making, or if he needed help to negotiate the next turn, her almond-shaped blue eyes sparkled with warmth and beauty, turning up at the edges along with her smile. She looked like an angel—or maybe a wood sprite or fairy. He smiled, meeting the grin she flashed as she peered over her shoulder to check his progress.

  Justin recalled waking that morning with her in his arms, a hot bundle of softness that he’d held close through the night. He hadn't slept much, afraid of touching her in a way that would remind her of whoever had done her such harm as to make her choose a life of fear and isolation—the bastard that had left behind the cluster of cigarette burn scars on her shoulder.

  His insides twisted at the thought of the little girl she’d once been and the innocence that had been stolen from her. The visible wounds
had healed, but Justin wondered at the possibility of ever finding a way past the hard wall of fear and mistrust surrounding her heart. His own muddle of feelings aside, and whatever her story was, her safety had to come first.

  Over the past few days, he’d pieced together what little she’d told him and had concluded that she was a runaway and obviously the victim of horrible abuse. But she wasn’t a defenseless child any longer and whoever had hurt her had to pay. When he’d finally dozed off just before dawn, with the fragile young woman wrapped in his arms, he made a silent vow that he would find a way to free her from the loneliness of her wilderness prison. He would find a way to help her, whatever the cost.

  It was late afternoon before they reached the trailhead. Brinn stopped abruptly ahead of him and stared out at the valley below. She tucked the machete into the back of her belt and pointed down a well-worn deer trail.

  "Head south until you come to the great falls and then turn onto the East trail. The trees will be marked with yellow dots. You should be able to find your way from there," she said with a distinct sadness in her voice. “I can’t go any further.”

  The finality of her tone made him resist argument. "You know I would stay longer with you if I could, but people must be searching for me by now. I have to go back. I have work, and family, and friends..." He left his sentence unfinished as she stared, her blue eyes shimmering with moisture. He felt awful leaving her behind but he couldn’t force her to come with him either.

  "I understand. I would not ask you to give up the life you know, any more than I could leave this mountain with you." She gazed around and smiled sadly as if the wind in the trees, the birdsong on the air, and the warm rays of the afternoon sun were her family. "This is my home."