Savage Cinderella

Chapter 7-Holding On and Letting Go

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.