Page 32 of Her Ex's Father
Already I can feel my muscles relaxing… fingers unclenching from the straps of my pack… two weeks inside the lodge. As gorgeous as it is, it’s started to feel like a kind of prison. I’m so used to being outside, in the fresh air…
“Mrs. Bronson.”
The voice is closer, sharper, and I finally register it with a little jerk.
“Oh—sorry, um, yes?”
Marco, Ben’s household manager, is standing at the foot of the front steps. His shoes rap out against the cobblestone, sending a small group of ravens into flight from the pines.
“You’re going out?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay. I just wanted to go for a walk.” I tip my head toward the trail, where it disappears into the shadow of the forest. Marco glances uneasily from me to the gloomy path.
“You haven’t been out there until now, right? I’m not sure you should go on your own…”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I interject, straightening my posture and adjusting the pack. “I used to hike all the time in Montana, and ride. I have everything I could possibly need.”
When his mouth parts, unsure, I add more firmly: “I’ll be back within an hour.”
His mouth snaps shut and he nods but doesn’t move as I turn and start to walk into the trees again. An uneasy, creeping feeling snakes over my shoulders and down my spine. Despite the beautiful day, Marco’s anxiety has managed to infiltrate my own mind. These aren’tmywoods. I don’t know them like I know home, where I spent thirty years wandering around the ranch and surrounding terrain.
It can’t be that different,I tell myself, enjoying the crunch of pinecones and the fresh air the further away I get from the lodge. Within seconds, it disappears from sight.
Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve lived here. Long enough to know which corridors creak, long enough to learn which paintings watch me the hardest, and long enough to feel like I’m suffocating inside a gilded cage.
So today, I choose the woods.
I tug my fleece tighter around me and think of Stella, who would be mortified to find out what I’m doing. She’d definitely agree with Marco on this being an unsafe idea; Stella can’t stand dirt or dust and has always enjoyed how pristine everything isindoors. She would have lectured me for sneaking out, but she isn’t here.
No one is. Just me, the towering pines, and the sound of birds chirping their endless gossip.
For a few minutes, I feel free. My boots crunch over fallen needles, the sun breaks through the branches in long golden fingers, and the tension that’s lived in my shoulders for months eases just enough to let me breathe.
I almost convince myself that I can disappear into these woods and never look back.
“Madeline!”
The stern shout shatters the illusion.
I stiffen, groan, and turn. Ben is striding up the path like he owns not only the trail but the entire mountain. Which, technically, he kind of does. His shoulders are broad beneath a dark sweater, his jaw tight with irritation, and his green eyes locked on me like I’ve personally offended him by daring to step foot in the wilderness.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Walking,” I shoot back, spinning away from him before he can bulldoze me with that tone. “It’s a thing normal people do. For fresh air. For exercise.”
“You can’t go out here alone.” His boots thud against the packed earth until he’s just a few steps behind me. I can feel his presence, and it sends a shiver through me in a way that I don’t want to acknowledge. His voice is low, controlled, but vibrating with disapproval.
I glance over my shoulder and roll my eyes. “What, is a pine tree going to mug me?”
“Maddie.” My name in his voice is half warning, half growl. “This isn’t Montana. There are mountain lions here. Bears. A dozen ways for you to get hurt.”
“And what? You’ll swoop in and save me?” I laugh, hand grazing my hip—where there’s a massive hunting knife—and checking the bottle holder of my pack where I tucked away bear spray. “You don’t get to control where I put my feet, Ben. Besides, we have mountain lions and bears in Montana too, you know.”
I expect him to bark back. To lecture me. But instead, he lengthens his stride until he’s next to me, his body radiating heat in the chilly air. His presence is a wall I can’t walk around.
“You’re stubborn,” he mutters.
“And you’re infuriating.”
