Page 1 of Montana Silence

Prologue

Mara Greene

Just a couple more things,and I could go get ready. I wanted to make sure everything was done in the lodge before I left for the wedding.

The place had been wedding central for the last couple of weeks, and it was almost clean. If I finished everything up today, then I could spend more time outside this week. And if I had a choice between working inside and outside, I would always choose outside.

Looking at the clock, I saw I had just enough time to finish. I loaded the remaining cups into the dishwasher, put the leftover supplies from making bouquets and centerpieces into a box, and wiped down the countertops.

There was something nice about having a completely clean and reset space. It settled my mind. A twinge of guilt came with the feeling because ofwhereit came from, but it was getting better. Slowly.

I grabbed the box of craft supplies and the last of my cleaning supplies to store in the utility closet. The closet was on my list of things to work on too. I needed to organize it a little better, and the door was getting squeaky.

That squeak sounded loudly when I opened the door—louder than it had been before, and, more than that, it wasfamiliar.

The darkness of the closet crashed in around me, and I backed into the corner, making sure the box didn’t make any sound before I pulled the door closed.

Quiet.

I had to be quiet-quiet-quiet.

If I wasn’t quiet, it would hurt. Straps across my shoulders and back. Whispered threats of what was in store for me later. Once it was finished, and once I was theirs.

No, I needed to stay silent. Maybe he wouldn’t notice I made a sound, and maybe I could get out of it this once. I’d done everything they asked and everything they wanted.

Who was I kidding? It didn’t matter.

It was easier to be quiet and have no voice at all.

If you said nothing, they couldn’t punish you for it.

I strained, listening for the telltale creaks of the porch and the heavy, booted footsteps approaching that told me I was no longer safe.

My heart pounded in my ears, and my breath was too loud. I put a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but as hard as I tried, a whimper came out when I heard the front door opening.

“Daniel?”

The voice made me blink. That was Emma. Emma from Resting Warrior. Looking for Daniel in the lodge, where I was, crouched on the floor in a closet next to a box of craft supplies.

My knees shook, and I sank to the floor in relief. This wasn’t the compound, and I wasn’t in danger. The squeaky hinge on the door had soundedexactlylike the one in my memories.

I was fine.

I smelled the faint remnants of lemon cleaner on my hands and the dust in the air. I heard Emma’s footsteps out in the main lodge and her calling Daniel again, telling him they needed to get going to help with setup for the wedding. Reaching out, I touched the wood of the doorframe and felt the fabric of my shirt on my skin.

This was part of the process of grounding myself. It didn’t always work, but right now, it was helping.

Standing, I put the cleaner on the shelf and shoved the box into the corner to be dealt with when I organized. I couldn’t be in here anymore.

Emma looked over when I came out, startling a little. She was already dressed for the wedding, hands cradling her pregnant stomach. “Oh hey, Mara. I didn’t know you were in here.”

I forced a smile and nodded, not quite meeting her eyes. For the most part, I was better with talking, but I couldn’t right now. My chest was too tight and my throat too raw to make any sound.

Maybe later, I would feel better enough to talk.

Waving to her, I went outside and walked toward home to get ready.

I was safe. I wasn’t there. The man my memories made me afraid of was still rotting in jail. He couldn’t reach me here, couldn’t make me marry every man in that place like he’d wanted. Couldn’t make me a shared bride and a toy for anyone he chose.

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