I point toward the ridge line visible through the trees. “An overlook. He said it was breathtaking. That on clear days you could see three states.”
He exhales slowly. “It is. But you took the wrong way to get there.”
“Story of my life,” I mutter.
This time, his mouth curves a little more. The smile reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners. “I’m Duke,” he says. “State game warden.”
“Trista,” I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind an ear. “Game warden, huh? I guess that explains the appearing out of nowhere thing.”
He glances back at the trail I wandered off. “I was tracking movement through this section. Looking for a tagged elk. That’s how I found you.”
“Lucky me.”
“Yes,” he says quietly, and his tone makes me look up sharply. “It was.”
He shifts his stance, positioning himself just slightly between me and the slope I foolishly tried to climb. The protective gesture is subtle, but I notice it anyway. Notice the way he seems to be cataloging my condition, checking for injuries I might not have registered yet.
“I’m going to walk you back to the main trail,” he continues. “From there, I’ll lead you to the overlook.”
“I don’t want to be a problem. I’m sure you have actual work to do.”
“It’s no problem,” he says. “Besides, if I don’t stand guard, you may wander off trail again. Making sure hikers can safely access and follow the trails is part of my job.”
I look at Duke, at the calm certainty in his posture, the way he seems perfectly at home on the mountain. I’d be safer with him hiking with me, no doubt about that. But something tells me there’s also a risk in spending too much time with him… like I may not want to say goodbye at the end of the trail.
My brother’s voice echoes in my head.Take chances. Don’t let fear decide everything.
“Okay,” I say. “Lead the way.”
He gestures toward the correct path, and I fall into step behind him. He glances over his shoulder every twenty feet or so to make sure I’m still here.
And for the first time since I started this journey, I don’t feel like I’m doing this alone.
Chapter Two
Duke
AsIleadtheway to the overlook, I continually look over my shoulder at her. Partly to check her progress and safety, and partly just to lay eyes on her again.
She’s a knockout.
Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, with strands escaping at her temples where sweat has dampened them. And she has the most beautiful eyes, more gray than blue, like the sky when a storm is just starting to brew. She’s physically fit, but also curvy, with just the right amount of fat to make her thighs rub together and her tits bounce deliciously as she hikes.
Good grief, dude. Get your shit together. She’s here for her dead brother.
That thought does the trick, throwing cold water on all the dirty fantasies I was beginning to play out in my mind.
She hiked into the woods alone to honor her brother’s memory. But I think there’s more to it than that. It’s like she’s also here for herself… like she’s testing her limits, her strength, her resolve.
It’s impressive and admirable.
I’m tempted to tell her so. Instead, I explain the game trail as we work our way back to the hiking trail. I tell her it’s easy to mistake them for hiking trails, and that many hikers have done the same thing.
Her shoulders relax a fraction. She hadn’t been looking for permission, but she needed reassurance. Needed to know she wasn’t stupid for getting turned around.
She’s not stupid. Just inexperienced.
We move together, me a step ahead, pointing out the subtle differences she missed earlier. The way the real trail curves instead of climbing straight up. The scuffed earth where boots have passed instead of hooves. A faded marker half-hidden by brush, the paint chipped but still visible on the trees if you know where to look. The worn roots that serve as natural steps.
