Free Savage Cinderella by PJ Sharon Page A

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