“You got me there,” he laughs. It’s a genuine smile, and I want to capture it, print it out, and keep it in my wallet to look at whenever I need a pick-me-up.
Standing on my tiptoes, I reach into the backseat to grab my camera bag. I made Hudson double back for it before we left, and I’m aching to test it out.
“I got it,” Hudson says, grabbing the strap and hoisting it over his shoulders. “My dad told me about this place just below this ridge. It has breathtaking views if you’re up for a hike.”
“This isn’t going to be one of those nine-mile hikes, right? Because I would like to point out that I am injured and definitely not wearing the right shoes and ...”
“It’s not,” Hudson replies, intertwining his fingers with mine, the motion distracting me from the fact he’s leading me to a trail. “But we can take breaks if you need.”
“If it’s so short, why would we need to take breaks?” I counter.
He flashes me a devious smile and I know that this is going to be the longest hike of my life.
“I promise it’ll be worth it.”
And because I’ve no reason to doubt him anymore, I follow him into the forest.
Hudson stays one step ahead of me, pointing out obstacles on the path. We bypass a fallen tree, a handful of boulders, and with each one, he ensures I make it through safely, holding my hand and helping me over each one. Through the woods, the shade of the treetops provides pockets of cooler air that offer a little refuge from the blistering heat of the day. We take it slow, no rush to get anywhere, and I have to admit that it’s nice being away from the hustle and bustle of the ranch. Here I don’t have to smile or entertain conversation. I don’t have to worry about what I’m wearing or how I’m perceived. I can just be.
Hudson must feel that way too because he stops along the path several times to point out native plants and insects, or to admire a cluster of mushrooms growing on a mossy tree. He’s smiling from ear to ear, teaching me about things I would have never thought to look up. And I can tell that here, in nature, is where he truly thrives.
“If you love this stuff so much, why are you afraid to take over Elite?” I ask, recalling his words from last night.
Hudson sighs, the tension in his shoulders returning. “You remember that?”
I nod, recalling the words he spoke to me, the vulnerability behind them. “You’ve worked for your dad for what, a decade at least, right? I’m sure you’re more than qualified to run his company.”
“On paper, technically. But it’s a lot of pressure. My dad has this presence, you know. And I don’t think I can ever garner that level of respect, or if I even deserve it.”
“Think of it like Excalibur. You wouldn’t be able to wield the sword if you weren’t worthy of it,” I say, excited to see the reference light up his face.
“You watchedMerlin?”
“I couldn’t sleep and you wouldn’t shut up about it,” I explain. “If I’m going to mock you I need the evidence to back it up.”
“Still. I’m no King Arthur,” he replies, sullen, and I hate that he thinks so low of himself.
“You’re ready for this,” I state, matter-of-factly.
“Tell that to my anxiety nightmares,” he jokes, extending a hand to help me over a tree stump. His grip is gentle as he guides me, keeping a steady hand on my waist.
“Think of this as an opportunity to make Elite your own. Sure, it was your father’s, but he’s passed it on to you. Is there anything you’d want to change about the company?”
Hudson stops in his tracks, as if he needs to use his entire concentration on the answer.
“I want to do more community engagement. Weekend programs and summer camps to teach about native plants and animals, all while creating space to inspire people to take on similar work in the future.”
“That sounds totally doable.”
“And I want to start a scholarship-based education camp for kids, to bolster interest in environmental studies and parks and recreation programs.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have one already.”
“My dad was more focused on expanding the brand, getting us in a good financial position,” Hudson explains. “We have programs that work with already established camps, but I’d love to create my own. The Elite Elevation Experience.”
“That sounds cool as hell. I only lasted two days at summer camp before I was calling my mom to come pick me up,” I admit, recalling my brief stint in Girl Scouts. “I don’t last long without my creature comforts.”
“I’ll remember that,” he says, as he guides us towards a clearing. A glistening body of water lies ahead of us. It’s crystal clear with colorful rocks embedded beneath the surface. It feels as if we’ve traveled to another dimension. The Tetons are reflected across the surface of the water, which glows a jade green—the same color as Hudson’s eyes.
