by Davis, Lia;
The question was: How on earth do I tell him, without sounding insane? As twins, they shared a special bond. Did that transcend into believing in a magical creature – an ethereal woman that transforms into a deer?
Cliff was acting weird. All jittery, and shit. He’d never wanted to turn back without a full load. From the corner of his eye, Jacob checked him out. As they walked, his brother looked from side to side, a little too aware of what might be happening. The cracking of dry leaves sounded from the trail ahead, and Cliff threw his arm out, stopping Jacob’s path.
“What the hell? That might be my kill,” he said, shoving his brother aside. As he attempted to walk past, Cliff snatched his sleeve, and a sick ripping tore through the air.
He yanked out of his grasp, the fabric tearing apart more.
“Wait up,” Cliff said. “It may not be safe.”
Jacob cocked the gun, feeling the strong steel steady in his grip. Nothing like the power of the lead to stop an attacker. “I’m not afraid. I’ll go ahead.”
The look in his brother’s eyes stopped him. As if he was going to hurt something that shouldn’t be killed. “What is it? You’ve gotta tell me.”
“You’d never believe me.”
“You’ll never know until you try.”
They could go back and forth like this forever, and ahead, they’d lose their prey. Resigned to ignore any other attempts to block his intent, Jacob forged on. He caught sight of a flash of red, and his adrenaline kicked in.
He’d thought he’d lost the redhead beauty, but the hunt was on! Taking aim, he leveled the shotgun, and sighted the target.
“Wait!” Cliff grabbed the barrel and yanked it to the side.
“Dammit. Don’t ever do that!” Thankfully, he hadn’t fired. “What’s gotten into you?”
“It was a woman. I saw a gorgeous woman who I mistook for a deer. I just don’t want you to make the same mistake.”
Hands shaking, he lowered the gun. “A what?” He’d heard him, but he didn’t believe him. They never saw women this far out into the forest. Where did she come from, and where did she go?
“I’ll tell you more back at the cabin, but for now, let’s stop the hunt.”
On the way back, every snapped branch made both men jump. What’s dad going to think? Jacob wondered. He’d taught them to go out and provide. They didn’t return without provisions. If they didn’t find, they didn’t return.
But the gold. There’s always the gold. Their stepfather did his best to hide the growing wealth from them. But as each day passed, and each morning arrived, it grew harder and harder to ignore the growing stockpiles. As time went on, either they stashed it in a bag or their father took each wordlessly, and did something with it. First it went into a bag, then a drawer and a closet, and as time passed, their father built a storage shed. They didn’t fully understand what it was, only that it held value. Every few months, father ventured to the city and returned with supplies.
A golden egg beneath their pillow every morn added up over half a lifetime.
“So, what’s for dinner?” stepfather asked as they pushed through the cabin’s door. He flicked his eyes to their empty hands, and he exclaimed, “What?”
“Cliff has this wild story you have to hear,” Jacob said, covering his own ass. Sure, that excuse didn’t include his own actions, but what was he supposed to do? Risk hurting or killing a woman? What if she had been lost?
“I told you,” he barked out. “You’re not going to believe me.”
Stepfather dragged a chair from the table, and took a heavy seat. “Try me out.”
And that’s when Jacob heard the full, farfetched tale for the first time. The woman who shifted into a doe, and bounded off, only to narrowly miss being his by his own misfiring.
“Pa, obviously you can see why I stopped, and brought him home. Something’s not right.”
The man who raised them looked him squarely in the face, and turned to size up Cliff.
“I believe ’em. Why wouldn’t I?” he said. “There’s a lot out in them forests we don’t understand and if your brother says he saw a woman turn into a deer and vice-versa, then it must be true.”
* * * *
“No Papa, no! Don’t leave us.”
Cliff’s cries cut through the darkened room, waking Jacob. He sat up straight and fast, slamming his head against the wood of the bunk above.
“Owww!” He banged his fist on the underside of the bed. “Wake up, already. Wake up.”
“Wha-what?” Cliff asked. “What is it?”
“You’re having that nightmare again. The one where Dad abandons us. I’m trying to sleep.”
“It’s not a dream. It’s a memory that won’t ever go away.” Jacob swung his legs over the side of the bed, feet dangling in Jacob’s space, and jumped. His weight hit the floor with a reverberating thump.
“You’re going to wake father if you’re not more quiet,” Jacob said. He turned, throwing the covers over his head, hoping to ward off further conversation. He should know better.
“Why do you think he did it?” As Cliff talked, Jacob heard him pacing back and forth across the wooden floors of the small room. “Was it something we did?”
As a few moments of sleeplessness, Jacob tossed off the blankets and faced the irritant. “Maybe it has something to do with what we wake up to every single morning.”
“Don’t you think that would have made him want us more? Not get rid of us?”
“I don’t know. I always like to think that he did it for our own good,” Jacob said. The weight of their father’s actions all those years ago weighed heavy on his heart, but he tried not to think about it. His twin did enough for both of them. “Maybe he was protecting us.”
“From what?”
“We’ll never know. No go to sleep, so I can get some rest.”
The bedroom door cracked open, letting in a sliver of light. Their foster-father, the Huntsman, stood in the crevice, backlit.
“What’s all the ruckus going on in here?” he said. “Tomorrow comes early in the woods. How many times have I told you two boys that?”
“Sorry, Pa,” Jacob said. “He’s having another one of his night terrors. I tried to keep him quiet.”
“Is that so?” He pushed the door wide, and stepped in, his bulky figure blocking all the light for a moment. “Come on son, let’s get you tucked in.”
The Huntsman slipped his arm around Cliff’s shoulders, and guided him toward the bed.
“Pa, I’m almost 21-years-old. You don’t have to tuck me into bed anymore.”
“You’ll never be too old,” their father-figure said. “Never, as long as I shall live.”
“Now don’t talk that way. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Tis true, but you two have your whole lives ahead of you. You don’t want to waste it out here in the woods with this old man. Now climb up.”
Without seeing his actions, Jacob knew exactly what he was doing, because he’d repeat the actions below on him in a moment. On tip toes, he pulled the blankets over Jacob’s body, and ruffled his hair.
“It’s the anniversary when the great gods of the woods brought my two boys to me. No wonder the dreams are coming fast and furious this night,” the Huntsman said. “But don’t you two fret. You’re safe. You’ll always have a home with me. But I also think you’re ready to adventure into the wild.”
“We have everything we need here,” Jacob said. Pa sat on the edge of his bed, and repeated the movements from above. “Why would we ever leave?”
“Your wealth is worth nothing in these woods,” the Huntsman said. “You need to find your own way, your own happiness, and maybe someday a woman.”
“A woman!” Cliff exclaimed. “Now I think you might be losing it. You don’t have a woman. Why do we need one?”
The man who raised them stood, paced across the room, and returned, leaning against a wooden support beam. The shadows in the room highlighted the etching of years that had pass
ed. He looked tired, and aging.
“In some ways, I feel like I’ve done you two lads a disservice, keeping you out here all these years.”
“And out of harm’s way,” Cliff said. “How many times have you said it was for our own good? That someone wanted to hurt us?”
“Tis the truth, but it was also selfish of me.” He rubbed the palm of his hand over his beard. “Now, just because I’ve lived here, alone, without the comfort of a woman, doesn’t mean I believe you two should make the same choice. Fore, I have loved.”
“What?” In all the years they’d been together, Jacob never imagined their father to have had a companion. “How come you never said anything?”
He shrugged half-heartedly. “Some things are too hard to speak about.” His voice took on a wistful quality, and as he continued to speak, Jacob thought if maybe he was seeing something else in his mind’s eye. “Clarice and I grew up together. She had the finest straight red hair. It shone like a winter berry, no matter the season.”
Heart pounding in his chest, Jacob waited for him to continue. There had to be more to the story.
“What happened to her Pa?” Cliff finally asked.
Jacob resisted the urge to reach above and sock him one. Give the man some time!
With a shake of his head, Pa displaced the magic of the tale that had taken hold. “Some beauty is too fragile to survive in this world,” he said. “That’s a story for another day. For now, just know that you don’t need to choose to be alone. I’m sure that when the time comes, there will be someone special for both of you.”
Once he’d planted the idea, it was hard to ignore.
“I did the best I could by you two, but in some ways I don’t think that was enough.” The man they’d known for most of their lives as Pa paced the small cottage. “Years ago, I saved you wandering out in these very same woods. Soon I think it’s time you knew the true story.”
True? Did that mean some aspect of it was false? Part of Jacob really wanted to hear what he had to say, and another part of him wanted to duck his head under the covers and shield his ears. He acted brave, but some fears were harder to face. Knowing would change everything, and once they heard the truth they’d never be able to go back.
“We’ll talk tomorrow evening, after the day’s chores. The night holds many secrets, and doesn’t like to give them up,” their father said. “You both need to rest now, or else no one will sleep.”
Chapter Two
Sunlight cut through the morning haze. Since before dawn, Jacob lay awake, waiting for the appropriate time to get up and start the day. After Cliff’s rant about the woman-doe, he said he’d be staying in and refused to return to the forest to hunt. It’s not that he didn’t believe his brother saw something. The key was what? Bundled with the nightmares of the previous night, and he was more than freaked out.
Under his pillow, he searched for the ever-present treasure. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was ever split from Cliff, it the magic would stop. They’d came onto the magic together, and woke every morn the same way.
“There it is,” he said, as his hand encountered a cold metallic sphere. He pulled out a golden egg and held it up. Just as beautiful and perfect as every day. Without a thought to what else the riches could be used for it, he shoved the treasure into a burlap sack in the pantry. Whenever it filled, their father took it and stashed it. The older he got, the more he wondered its worth.
By the wane lighting seeping through the windows, he dressed. After gearing up, he slung his rifle over his shoulder, gave a final look to the sleeping household and left. This moment, in the early morning light, was one of his favorites. It was as if the forest continued to sleep, and he was alone in the world. As a twin, it was a feeling he didn’t often have.
The air smelled like the morning dew – nature at its freshest, most virgin state.
“Help me. Please, help me.” A gentle cry of a female drew him deeper into the forest, near where they’d set up a few traps. “Help me!”
The sky darkened, and the air grew thick. Jacob stepped carefully. He didn’t want to stumble into one of his own traps. What would he find as the owner of the voice? The space between trees narrowed, and thick branches, heavy with foliage, slapped him in the face. He pushed through, following the weakened cries.
Finally, he entered a small glen and saw what had been trapped: A snow-white rabbit. In the summer, amidst all the greenery and drying leaves, she struggled in an ugly trap.
“Please let me go,” she begged. “I will grant you one wish.”
He shook his head. His brother’s fantastical stories must be leaving an impression. A woman shifting into a deer, and now a talking rabbit? There was no way he had discovered a talking bunny. All his years in the forest, and collecting their meals, and never had he ever heard such a tale.
“Who are you? And what do you want?” He spoke harshly. “You must be a figment of my imagination.”
“No kind sir, I am not.” The prettiest little bunny he’d ever come upon said. “Please. It hurts so.”
At her admission, he glanced at her trapped foot, and for the first time noticed the red blood marring her most-exquisite white fur. He blanched, feeling all the blood flee his face.
“Just hold still, and I’ll help,” he directed. “The more you fight it, the worse it will be.”
As gently as possible, he settled on the forest floor, wondering again if this happenstance had anything to do with his brother’s encounter. Jacob placed his hand on either side of the sharpened wood contraption and readied to open.
“When I say, you try to free your paw, err, foot, whatever it is,” he said.
“I will kind sir.”
“You might not be thinking that in a few minutes. I have no doubt this will hurt.” He grit his teeth, “and go.”
With a weak cry, she escaped the wooden jaws. Now he understood, a little better, how his brother felt the previous day. It was one thing to hunt, and quite another to communicate with the potential victim. Even if, as in his case, it was a bouncing rabbit.
“Now that I’ve freed you, you said I’d have a wish, eh?” he asked. Not that an animal could grant wishes. It wasn’t like she’d been freed from a magic lamp.
“Oh yes.” She hopped on mostly one hind leg, leaned forward on her front two paws, and kicked out the other. “For your good deed, you definitely deserve a reward. What is it you shall like?”
He didn’t want for money, or for love. While others might seek far-off adventures, Jacob was content being close to home. Their father always warned of the potential danger outside the forest, and tonight he might tell more of that.
“I want to know how this magic works,” he said. “What is your secret? I’ve known many a four-legged creature in my lifetime, and never have I ever had such a detailed, two-way conversation with one.”
“If you insist. Stand back please.”
Directly before his eyes, her body transformed, stretching to reveal smooth, long legs, a shapely body and a wild mane of white-blonde hair. His brain stuttered to comprehend what he was seeing. How was it possible?
She reclined on the blanket of leaves, nude. “Am I everything you hoped I’d be?” she asked.
“I, uh, had no idea.” The appropriate words failed to come to him. Were there any appropriate words? She moved to cross one ankle over the other, and winced.
“Ouch. That stings.”
“Let me try to make that feel better.” He dropped to his knees, and from his waist, he drew out the canteen, pouring some cool water over his handkerchief. He dotted the liquid over her ankle, carefully wiping away the blood.
“Oh, that feels good.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “Your touch.”
Something about the way she said, “touch.” Her mouth curving into an O around the words, made his base urges rear. She was like one of those mythical creatures his father told stories about: a siren. Without song, though, she lured him in.
He wanted her,
and be damned if she didn’t want him too. He’d stored it all up, this yearning for something else, someone else, over these past few years, and finally, he’d met her: The woman he was destined to be with. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the spell, but it held true. It sounded crazy, but certainly fate had brought them together.
Without thinking, he moved the material in his hand higher, trailing the curvature of her calf, over her knee, and to her upper thigh. Without further urging, she reclined, opening her legs and granting him access.
No hair marked the area between her legs. Instead, he saw the ultra-pale skin. Areas that usually didn’t see the sunlight. She was beautiful, with perfect pink nether lips. From her pale skin, she wasn’t used to being out in such a harsh environment for so long. What had he been thinking?
“Don’t stop now,” she urged. “I want you to touch me, kiss me.”
Like prey drawn into a tasty treat of a trap, he settled next to her. She turned on her side, facing him, and trailed her unhurt foot over his pants leg. The contrast of her natural state to his dressed one stood out.
Hands shaking, he slipped an arm under her back, and staring into her eyes leaned in for his first kiss. As soft as the first fresh snow of the season, they brushed—one against the other—so light if it stopped there, he’d question if it ever happened. His breath caught in his throat, and they took a gulp of air in unison.
“Shut your eyes,” she coaxed. “Let it happen.”
Harder, he pressed his lips against hers, and she opened to him. He breeched her mouth with his tongue, seeking hers. She tasted sweet, like his favorite apple pie with a hint of cinnamon fresh from the oven. How could that be? The tension in his body pulled taut. All his muscles felt like he exerted his body, except for his mouth, which melded to hers. He sought more. A bigger bite. Jacob placed his hand between her thighs, inching toward her core.
Firm thighs closed upon his hand, trapping him in. Feeling the pressure, he opened his eyes, surveying the woman in his arms. She smiled.