Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 20: Apology Accepted (Part 2)

Cassie's sigh was loud enough to hear outside of her room, but it didn't matter. The hut was empty. She had heard the MacRaes leave hours ago. Wherever they were going for the day, she wasn't invited, not even to watch.

She could have wasted the day with more sleep, but idleness wasn't something that suited her.    

Now that the MacRae brothers were reunited with their father, her work was done, and they had no further use for her. It would be best to say good-bye.

She would leave, she decided, but not today. . .

Chris's birthday was in two days, and she wanted to give him something to remember her by.   

Cassie dressed and left the hut. After finding a suitable stick, she chose a sunny spot in the jungle. She worked continuously for many hours, and whenever she felt sad or lonely, she would break the silence with a song.   

Will your strong embrace

mend my. . .

She paused when she heard a twig snap. "Is someone there?"

No one answered.

Her first thought was that someone was sneaking up on her, and only one name came to mind. "Joe, is that you?" She wasn't going to let him scare her. But, say, it wasn't him. Then she'd have a reason to be afraid.

After a bit of rustling, Chris pushed through the grass. "Good guess, but no. It's just me."

"Oh," Cassie said as she fumbled to hide what she was doing.

She also turned her head away from him because she didn't want him to see the layers of embarrassment piling up on her cheeks. The last and heaviest shade of red was hot enough to feel and was a result of the dream. Even hours later, she remembered every detail . . . the golden hue of the baby's curls in the yellow light, the scent of the fire that seemed to cling to everything, the feel of the clothing, the blankets, Chris's bare skin, and his touch—heated, determined, loving.    

"You don't have to stop singing. You sound . . . nice."

"You were listening?" she groaned.

"Briefly, yes. Was I not supposed to?"

His grin made her shrug and squirm.

"So what brings you here, Chris? I didn't expect to see you until tonight," she tersely stated. She sounded angry again and that wasn't her intention. Her frustration wasn't easy to contain these days and regardless of the source—and there were many—it was all expressed in a similar tone. But it was unlikely he could pick up on the subtle differences. It was all "anger" to him.

"I went to the hut for a bandage." He held up his right hand to reveal patches where the skin had been rubbed away. "And then I followed the sound of your voice."

The sight of his wounds replaced all of Cassie's uneasiness with concern. "That looks painful."

"It is, but someone I know urged me to 'exhibit a hint of discipline' and not be 'so distractible.' So, I've been practicing with blisters, apparently for a while."

He analyzed his palm and winced as he flexed it. Then, flourishing the bandage, he sat down on a stone near her and attempted to wrap his right hand with his left. He struggled, though, to keep everything tight and together. As he was wrapping his palm, a strip by his wrist dangled loose. He tried to correct the flaw but ended up unwrapping the bandage all the way.

She came over to him and lightly took his hand. "Here. Let me help. I insist." After a minute or so, keeping her eyes on the bandage as she re-wrapped it, she said, "I'm sorry. I said many things that I shouldn't have yesterday. And I wasn't referring specifically to you."