Page 18 of The Mountain Man's Retribution

“Today, you and I must run errands to the neighboring homesteads. You’re coming with me.”

Her breath catches in her throat, and panic contorts her visage. But I’m ready for her reaction this time. I order firmly, “These cannot be put off any longer, and I need your help. It’s just to mountain folk like us. The immediate vicinity. Not the backwoods where you came from.”

“I want to stay here,” she protests, brows stubbornly knotting.

“Do you want to stay here? Or do you want to please me, Fawn?” God, I feel like an awful person, but how else can I motivate her to take baby steps into the real world? A world she still knows so little about.

She shakes her head, eyeing me wildly, “no” on the tip of her tongue.

“It would please me exceedingly,” I urge.

Fawn sighs, face fracturing. “But I’m not ready.”

“You’re ready,” I strain, trying to keep my voice gentle, though the need to run down the hallway and jack off in the bathroom is strong. “You say you trust me, Fawn. Keep taking bold steps like you have all week. Be my partner today.”

Big eyes staring up at me pleadingly, she swallows loudly.

I try again, remembering what the therapist has told me. That for the time being, until Fawn acclimates to the world, I must learn to speak to her on her own terms. “You say I make you strong, but those are only words. I need proof through your actions.”

Her face works hard, twisting and scowling, to hold back sobs. I have to take it as a win that she hasn’t already crawled under the blanket in the corner. “Do you trust me?” I ask, leveling my gaze on her.

In a voice so soft I have to read her lips, she answers, “Yes, Bodie, I trust you with my life.”

“Then, the decision is made.”

After dressing and eating breakfast, we stand in front of my truck on the passenger side. Her face is whiter than a dinner plate, and her body trembles.

I ask, “Have you been in a car before?”

She nervously snickers at the question. “Yes, of course,” she replies a little indignantly. The woman never ceases to amaze me.

“And you know what this is?” I ask, holding up my cell phone. I’ve been slowly introducing her to technology all week, but my truck and cell phone are new. Today, as we do our rounds, I may need my phone, so it’s time for this conversation.

“Yes, Big Man used it to call his townspeople and sons sometimes. He would not allow me to have one, though.”

My mind chews on how to use this knowledge to track him and his sons down. Of course, he may have used burner phones. I would have in his place, especially after years of squatting and keeping a kidnapped woman.

I open the passenger door, waiting expectantly. Fawn eyes the hand I offer her. “It has been a while,” she excuses. “But I trust you.”

I help her scramble into the seat, leaning over her and buckling her in. She grabs my bearded cheek, stroking it and leaning forward for a kiss. My lips dance over hers. Desire sizzles through my veins, demanding satisfaction.

“We will go nowhere today like this,” I confess with a throaty chuckle. “Shame with the work of loading everything.”

My eyes wander to the bed of the truck, and Fawn’s follow. “You are right.”

Trying to get her as invested in this trip as I am, I say, “Remember the endless eggs you pulled from the root cellar and washed earlier? How you had to swallow fear to go down there?”

“Yes, because I used to be locked in the cellar.”

I nod, grinding my teeth. “And it was wrong. It will never happen again.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, her hand reaching for my pants. But I pull back, shaking my head.

“It’s not the time or place,” she says, quoting my words, the corners of her mouth turning up.

“That’s right, my little elf. See how quickly you’re learning?”

“I am trying, Bodie. So very hard. Like I did to go down into the cellar because you had no time to comfort a silly, fearful woman.”

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