4 #2
“No, I suppose you’re not.”
The silence stretched, punctuated only by the occasional snap of the wood burning in the fireplace.
“What’s your name, girl?”
I debated answering. I didn’t know if he would try and return me to Vetticus or Albatron. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay here, but if what he said was true and there was nothing around for miles, I wasn’t sure if that really was a choice I had.
“You first.”
His lip twitched and the tension eased a bit from his shoulders.
“I’m Sacha. That’s Fang.”
He jerked his head towards the dog, then looked at me expectantly.
“Emersyn.”
“Emersyn,” he echoed. “Do you have a last name?”
“Do you?”
Sacha blinked and the expression on his face said fair enough.
“Here’s the deal, girl, you’re not going to ruin all my hard work by traipsing off into the woods in your condition. You’ll heal up and then you can do whatever you want.”
I thought it over and realized pretty quickly the only smart option was doing what he said. I was injured, weak and had no idea how to survive out there. I didn’t even know which direction I needed to go in. I would use the recovery time to figure out my next move and then I’d leave.
I nodded my agreement.
“Everyone pulls their weight around here.” Sacha put his empty stew bowl in a bucket and brought it over. “You’ll do the dishes from now on. Got it?”
He set it down and brought his face nearly level with mine. I stiffened and my breath shortened at his proximity. His expression grew dark at my reaction.
“Just so we’re clear, and so you can stop acting like a skittish deer—” He growled. “I don’t touch what’s not mine without permission. And certainly not an underaged pup like you.”
Relief washed over me. While I still didn’t trust him, the fear that he’d touch me in that way vanished because this close, there was nothing but hard truth in his eyes. He straightened and nodded towards the bucket.
“Dishes get cleaned in the river.” He turned and headed towards a door I hadn’t noticed before. “Might want to take a dip yourself. You’re starting to smell up the place.”
My jaw dropped open slightly at his bluntness, until I looked down at my clothes and realized I was still wearing the same ones I’d been wearing in the clearing.
They were stiff with dried blood and stained with dirt.
I cautiously pulled the shirt away and caught a whiff of myself—okay, so maybe he wasn’t wrong.
“Clean clothes are there,” he pointed over his shoulder vaguely.
I looked at the end of the bed where a neatly folded thermal and sweatpants sat.
It was obvious they were his, but I wasn’t about to be picky.
The flash of a bedroom was all I saw before he shut the door behind him.
I waited to make sure he wasn’t going to come back out.
My attention drifted to Fang who sat looking at me expectantly.
Another glance at the door—still closed.
I took a breath and threw back the covers.
A skittish deer.
My jaw clenched at the pitiful picture that painted. I didn’t even want to know what I looked like right now. I stood up hesitantly and besides a dull ache, nothing stopped me from picking up the bucket and clothes and heading towards the door.
I stepped outside onto a broad, finely made front porch complete with a swinging bench seat.
Fang pushed past my legs and I stepped down the stairs and onto the front lawn.
The short grass was nearly like moss beneath my bare feet and I dug my toes into it in pleasure.
The lawn stretched around the entire cabin which was larger than I first thought, spanning two stories with an attached open workshop on one side and a shed on the other.
But, it was the view that held me captive.
The trees were tall and thinly spaced. Between them I could see the land sloped gently down to where a river lazily cut through the trees. My heart lurched painfully in my chest at how this place reminded me of our family’s lake house—
I balked at those memories.
The trees creaked and groaned and peppered the clearing with shifting patterns of light and shadow. Birds called from where they bounced around the branches. It was idyllic, but the fear of the past threatened to make it hostile.
Fang barked and startled me so badly I jumped, but he only raced by in pursuit of a squirrel. I clutched the bucket and put a hand over my heart, urging it to slow down from the panicked beats telling me I was in danger.
I took a few more steps and passed Fang who’d treed the squirrel. His front paws scratched up the bark, and the squirrel chattered at him angrily from just beyond his reach. When he saw me walking toward the water, he abandoned the hunt and raced ahead.
Fang didn’t hesitate to barge straight into the river once we arrived on the sandy shore.
A large pool dominated the majority of the stretch.
Crystal clear water with a heavily forested embankment rose up the other side.
The sound of water cascading over rocks suggested gentle rapids further upstream while downriver, the water narrowed and disappeared around a bend.
It looked refreshing, even though the air had the bite of fall to it.
I moved downriver where the water ran a little faster over the rocks and cleaned the dishes, scrubbing them with sand before I set them aside in the sun to dry.
I set the clean clothes on a large boulder and looked over my shoulder back towards the house.
I could just barely make out parts of the structure through the trees, but I still felt exposed.
I waded in with all my clothes on and moved behind a cluster of boulders.
I submerged up to my neck before I pulled off the soiled clothing and tossed it to shore.
Fang swam over, his jaws snapped at the splashes his paws made.
The old me might have laughed at him, but all I felt was numb.
I scrubbed until my skin was red and raw.
The memories ran through my mind like the red streaks of blood on my body.
I needed it gone—I wished I could scrub my mind.
Even once I was clean, it wasn’t enough.
I took a deep breath and ducked under the water where I let the world fade away.
The river swirled around me, a living thing.
The wilderness called to me—I could feel it seek out the cracks and breaks.
It whispered words of resilience, and strength, and reminded me of a world I used to know and love.
But nature had a way of stripping you bare and I wasn’t ready to face whatever lurked underneath the hurt.
I broke the surface and drew in great gulps of chilly mountain air, fighting to breathe as my chest constricted with anxiety.
The lengthening shadows suddenly seemed sinister.
They crept towards me with trembling arms and curled claws.
I felt too exposed. My breaths grew shorter as I surged out of the river onto the bank and fought to yank on the oversized clothes.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I raced the last light back to the cabin, while anxiety bit at my heels.
Next time, I’d make sure to be back well before dark—I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.