by Lisa Harris
Finally, James paused in a small, flat clearing. “Let’s camp here for the night.”
“Oh, thank God.” Only when he turned to her, concern etched in the lines on his forehead, did she realize she’d said the words aloud.
“You should have told me you needed to stop sooner.”
“I didn’t want to stop.” She took off the backpack for the first time in hours, enjoying the lightness, the cool air against her damp T-shirt. She sat on a fallen tree on the edge of the pine-needle carpet. “Before we started today, I thought I was in shape.”
He took off his own backpack and dug inside. “I’ll set up the tent.” He took out a blue silicone bag and laid it on the ground. “The Jetboil is in your backpack. Could you get it out?”
She had no idea what that was but opened her pack dutifully, figuring it would be obvious. She pulled out a black contraption that looked like an insulated cup mounted on top of a tiny propane tank. That had to be it.
“What am I making?”
“Open the bag”—he nodded at it from where he’d already begun unpacking the tent—“and pick whatever you want.”
She found instant noodles, rice, and oatmeal, not to mention tea bags and coffee. Also, bagged tuna fish, little squeeze-packets of mayonnaise, peanut butter, and single-serving jellies.
She knew there was another bag of food in his pack—he’d gotten the granola bars from it—and searched for it now, finding pita bread, nuts, dried fruit, and hummus.
“You brought the whole store,” she said.
“Bad habit. Even though I figure we’ll only be up here a night or two, I packed all the food I could fit.”
“I could have carried some.”
“There was no need.”
She boiled the water and, using collapsible silicone bowls she’d found in her pack, fixed the noodles. It would go well with the tuna, and they needed the protein and carbs. Plus, if they found Ella, when they found Ella, she could have the bars and peanut butter and jelly.
Before Cassidy finished preparing dinner, James had the tent up and his sleeping bag laid out on the ground beside it.
“Why are you getting that dirty?” she asked. “Doesn’t the sleeping bag go inside the tent?”
“You’ll sleep inside. I’ll sleep out.”
“Oh.”
“Seems… wiser, don’t you think?”
The unspoken suggestion that something might happen between them raised her heart rate. It meant he found her at least a little bit attractive. Her hope wasn’t futile.
“It’s your tent,” she said. “I should—”
“I like sleeping under the stars.”
She looked up and only saw the canopy of trees.
“You know what I mean.”
Not that she’d thought much about it, but all day she’d assumed he’d sleep by her side. It wasn’t as if they were together. They’d hardly touched since she’d first seen him Monday. She was pretty sure they could sleep in the same tent and keep their hands to themselves.
“It’s nothing against you.” He’d been watching her reaction. “The opposite, really.”
She wouldn’t think too much on that. “Hungry?”
“Starved.” He settled beside her and took the bowl she offered. “Climbing takes a lot out of you.”
She took a bite of the instant noodles. They were surprisingly good. “When was the last time you went backpacking?”
“I go with friends every fall. I usually go in the summers, too, but I haven’t gotten around to it this year.”
“Too busy?”
“Not really. Just, with the kidnapping last month and now…” He shrugged, ate a bite of his meal. “How about you? You ever go hiking or camping?”
“The closest I’ve gotten to nature in a decade is the park near my apartment.”
His eyebrows hiked. “Don’t you miss it?”
How could she miss a place that visited her so often in nightmares?
When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Where do you live now?”
“Do you believe me, that I would never have kidnapped or harmed your sister? Do you really believe me?”
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.
She waited, let the silence press the question.
When he said nothing, she shrugged. “I live far away.”
“You’re afraid to tell me?”
“I hope to return to that life when this is over. When I do, I’d like to not be looking over my shoulder all the time.”
“I don’t plan to turn you in.”
“You considered precisely that about forty-eight hours ago.”
“But I didn’t.” He ripped off a bit of pita bread and popped it in his mouth. When he’d swallowed, he said, “Can you tell me what you do, or is that top secret as well?”
“I work with at-risk youth, mostly runaway girls who’ve gotten caught up in drugs and prostitution.”
“Tough job.”
“I’m uniquely qualified.”
His eyebrows lifted, the question obvious.
“Just the runaway part,” she clarified. “Not drugs or prostitution. But I understand the temptation. I understand how easily somebody can be enticed into bad decisions. I understand why toss-away children are willing to risk everything and do anything to find a sense of belonging.”
“Toss-aways. Is that how you felt?”
“Most of my life. Even with foster families, it’s hard to feel like you belong. Until I met your family…”
Something flashed in his eyes, something dark. Goosebumps rose on her bare arms, and she dug in her backpack, happy to have something to focus on besides James.
Hands elbow-deep, she continued. “It was wonderful to know your family, a good family. I mean, I know I wasn’t a member, but I got to witness it, I got to enjoy it for a time. I’ve only ever known snatches of that feeling, but I’ve always longed for it. What I’ve learned, what I try to teach the kids I work with, is that we’re all welcome into the family of God. With God, there are no toss-aways.” She found the fleece sweatshirt James had packed for her and slipped it on, careful of her bruised shoulder. “When people are firm in their relationship with the Father, they’re not only secure in their place in the best family in the universe, but they’re in a position to find stragglers and pull them in.” She settled back on the ground.
“Do the kids listen to you?”
She started to lift her shoulders in a shrug, but a sharp pain had her holding the left one.
“You’re hurting.”
“Not too bad.”
But he was already digging in the pack for something. He found it—a medicine bottle—and handed her two pills. “Ibuprofen.”
“Good thinking.” She downed them, praying it would help. “I’ll work with a girl for months, some I’ve worked with for years. Many will laugh at me, scoff at me, call me a liar, swear at me, tell me they hate me. Some’ll disappear and never return. But most come back. They’re afraid to believe what I say, but they need somebody in their lives to tell them they matter, they belong. I try to be that person. So… does it work? God works. I do my part. The results are up to Him.”
“Healthy attitude.”
“Years of practice.”
He grabbed a handful of nuts. “Want some?”
“You don’t happen to have any cookies in that pack.”
He found a chocolate bar and tossed it to her. “You always had a sweet tooth.”
“My hero.” She ripped the package and ate the first square.
“So, some girls listen, and some don’t,” he said. “Any success stories?”
“I’ve had a few kids reunite with their parents. A couple have finished high school and gone on to college. Any girl who stays off the streets is a success story in my book.”
“You’re a success story.” He held her gaze. “Look at all you’ve accomplished.”
She ate another square of chocolate, let it melt in her mouth before swallowing. “This t
own…” She wasn’t sure how to say what she needed to say. “Not this town. Your family taught me a new way. Your family taught me that I mattered, that I was valuable, that I could be trusted because I could be trustworthy. No matter how hard I tried to look tough and stand-offish, your mother saw right through me. She saw past the black lipstick and angry T-shirts. She saw me. My own mother…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but James knew. Everybody knew about Cassidy’s mother.
“And your father,” she continued. “I’d had father figures ignore me, brush me off, yell at me. I had a foster father who came on to me when nobody was looking, tried to kiss me.”
James scowled at that.
“One of my mother’s boyfriends used to hurt me when I didn’t behave. He wasn’t as bad as Mom, but still… Your father treated me like a daughter. He treated me with respect and courtesy. He listened when I talked.”
“And you talked a lot,” James said, a smile lighting his eyes. “Man, sometimes I thought you’d never shut up.”
He was too far away to reach or else she’d smack him. Instead, she laughed. “Having people listen to me… You have no idea what a novelty it was. People who listened and responded and cared what I had to say. I’d rarely had that. And Hallie…” Her voice cracked.
“My sister adored you.”
“I adored her, too. I’d have done anything, anything…” She swiped the sudden tears away.
James looked up at the darkening sky. What was he thinking? She didn’t know this man the way she’d known the teenage boy. She’d loved that boy, loved his family, with everything in her.
“Anyway.” Cassidy worked for a casual tone. “Unlike a lot of the kids I work with, I’d seen how good it could be. I’d seen what a real family should look like, and I’d been introduced to the God who wanted everyone to feel that sense of belonging. Of… mattering. I’m a success story not because of anything I did but because… because of you.”
Chapter Fifteen
The man came back earlier than usual, before the sun even went down. He carried a paper bag, which he set on top of the cooler. “I’m going to have to take the food out after dinner, in case the bear comes looking for it, so be sure to get enough to eat and drink.”
That morning before he left, he’d cleaned up the bear’s mess and rinsed out her bucket. Now, he sat beside her. “I have a surprise for you.”
She didn’t want any surprise that didn’t include her daddy, but she didn’t say that. She’d learned it was better to talk to the crickets and keep quiet when he was around.
“I’m going to build a campfire.” He pointed to a black spot on the pale rock. The black was sort of like chalk. It’d come off on her fingers when she’d touched it. “Just big enough to roast marshmallows. You love roasted marshmallows.”
She’d never had them, so she just shrugged.
“And I got graham crackers and chocolate so we can have s’mores.”
“What’s that?”
His eyebrows lifted and disappeared behind the mask. “Don’t be silly. They’re your favorite.” His lips parted, and she thought he was smiling behind his mask. “You’re in for a treat. But first, I brought you another surprise.” He turned his back to her, opened the sack, then spun with a flourish. “Ta-da!” He presented a McDonald’s Happy Meal sack.
She loved McDonald’s. She tried to pretend she didn’t care, but she feared she’d let a smile slip through.
“Cheeseburger and French fries,” he said. “Your favorite. And I even brought you a Coke. Remember that time I took a sip from Mommy’s Coke, and she got so mad that she tried to throw a plate at me, but it slipped out of her hand and landed on her foot?” He cackled as if he’d told a joke, but that wasn’t funny at all.
He handed her the Happy Meal bag, opened her Coke, took out another bag, and plopped down beside her. He lifted his mask above his lips and ate.
The meal was warm and salty and perfect. But as soon as she finished, it turned thick and icky in her stomach, and she felt guilty, like she’d stolen a quarter from Daddy’s bedside table. Like, by enjoying what the man had given her, she’d done something very, very wrong.
“Ready for dessert?”
She shook her head, and his smile faded.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m full.”
“Oh, you can eat one tiny little s’more. You used to put away dozens of them. By the time I’m done building the fire, you’ll be hungry enough.” He walked outside, returning a minute later with a handful of sticks and twigs. He arranged most of them on the ground not too far from her, added some leaves, and flicked a lighter.
The leaves caught first, filling the cave with thick smoke, which made her cough.
The man waved it away. He knelt and blew on the tiny flame until a few of the sticks caught on fire.
Even though there was a gap in the cave overhead and most of the smoke found its way out, some didn’t, and it was hot and smelly. This fire wasn’t anything like the pretty, cozy fires Daddy built in their fireplace.
He stood and clapped his hands together once. “Great. Let’s roast marshmallows.” He pulled a bag of them from the paper bag, stuck one on the end of a long stick he’d kept out of the fire, and handed it to her.
She held the stick, unsure what she was supposed to do with it.
“Go ahead!”
“I don’t know what to do.”
His smile faded. “Sure you do.”
She shook her head. He squinted and studied her a moment. “What did that man do to you that you don’t remember how to roast marshmallows?”
She didn’t know what she was supposed to say, so she said nothing.
“That’s okay. I’ll show you.” He stuck a marshmallow on the end of a second stick and held it over the flames. She watched as it turned light brown.
“Whoops. Got ahead of myself.” He took his marshmallow out of the flame and handed her the stick. “Hold that a sec, would you?”
She did, and he went back to the bag and took out of a box of graham crackers and a bar of chocolate. He got both open, put a piece of chocolate on half the cracker, and took the stick back from her. He managed to get the marshmallow on the cracker and pressed the two pieces together with the chocolate, like a sandwich. “Look familiar?”
She shrugged.
“Your turn.” He nodded to the fire. “Go ahead.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t be silly, Maryann. It’s your favorite.”
She wasn’t hungry, but she did sort of want to try roasting the marshmallow. She put it in the flames like he had, but she got it too low.
It caught on fire.
She squealed and dropped the stick, shooting a glance to the man to see if he was angry. But he only laughed as he picked up the stick and blew on the marshmallow. The flame went out.
“The burnt ones are the best.” He made a marshmallow-chocolate sandwich and held it out to her.
“I don’t want it.”
His eyes got squinty, and his lips lost the smile. “Try it.”
“It’s burnt.”
“You love them like that. It’s delicious.”
“You eat it, then.”
He scowled at her, holding the food closer to her. “I said, try it.”
She crossed her arms and looked at the fire. She wasn’t going to eat that stupid burnt marshmallow. Her stomach hurt, and she didn’t want it. She didn’t like him or his stupid s’more.
He broke the sandwich in half, then broke it in half again and held out the smallest piece to her. “Please? Just a little bite?”
“No.”
He stood so fast, she jumped.
She scrambled to the wall and pressed her back against it.
He looked down at her like he wanted to hit her or kick her. “I went to a lot of trouble to give you a special night, Maryann. I bought these things just for you. The least you can do is try.”
“I don’t feel good.”
<
br /> “I don’t feel good.” His high-pitched mocking tone reminded her of the boys at school. “Don’t be such a baby. Eat a bite.”
She should. Maybe then he’d leave her alone. Except she thought she might throw up, and she hated him and his stupid marshmallow and hated that he was trying to have fun with her. She shook her head and mumbled, “You can’t make me.”
Before she knew what happened, he’d pinned her to the floor. He straddled her, squeezed her cheeks hard, and forced her jaw open. He shoved the bite of food in. Then he pressed his hand over her mouth. “Chew and swallow.”
His hand was thick and hot, and she couldn’t breathe. She struggled to get out from under him.
He let up just enough for her to inhale. “Do it. Now.”
She could hardly move her jaw with his hand like that, but she did what he said, afraid of the wild look in his eyes. Wild as the bear that had visited the night before.
Tears leaked from her eyes as she swallowed the bite. The marshmallow tasted like dirt, and the graham cracker was too dry. Even the chocolate was yucky. She swallowed again when it wanted to come back up.
He climbed off her and stood looking down at her with a dazed look in his eyes, like he didn’t know who she was or who he was or anything. “Maryann never said no to s’mores.”
Her whole body was shaking. She was even more scared than when the bear was there. More scared than she’d been when he’d first slipped his hand over her mouth and stolen her from Nana and Papa’s backyard. More scared than she’d ever been in her whole life.
“Maybe you’re not her.”
She wasn’t her, and she wanted to say so. Maybe if he realized she wasn’t Maryann, he’d take her back to Daddy. If she just told him…
But inside her head, someone said, Shh.
So she didn’t say anything.
He snatched the ruined food off the cave floor and tossed it in the fire. “I should leave this out, let the bear find you again.”