Page 26 of Forest Proximity
“I know.”
I know it all too well.
And sometimes beautiful things aren’t good for us.
Chapter 11
Stevie
Imay never forgive Adam for ruining lupines for me. I scan the patch of tall purple wildflowers in dismay. I’ve adored these things my whole life, only to find out that they’re doing damage to the place I love? I have to remember not to kill the messenger. It’s not Adam’s fault that my favorite flowers are the enemy of my favorite butterfly.
I sneak a look at the man standing a few feet to my side, his hands on his hips, his jaw tight. I take a few more pictures of the flowers, then turn and pivot my phone just right to get a picture of Adam standing there in that T-shirt looking so serious. Only one.
Okay. It’s done. He has a profile picture. Now I’m putting away my phone and focusing on the task at hand. I’m scanning the ground for tracks, listening for howls, and looking for an eight-foot-tall bipedal humanoid. Normal stuff. I just keep getting distracted.
I was totally lost in my thoughts when I ran into Adam a few minutes ago. My heart is still pounding from that jump scare. And if I’m honest with myself, having him join me for the last few minutes of my hike wasn’t terrible.
It’s not that I dislike having company out here. I just don’t like being commanded not to come into the woods alone. That’s all. I wouldn’t say no to a hiking partner.
In fact, I wish my brothers could make it out this summer. Conor finally called me back last night after my date, but he was leaving for a date with his wife. My other brothers, Brian and Declan, have sent short texts letting me know they’re excited to look closer at the pictures and video I’ve sent. Once they do, they’ll be looking for plane tickets. Those guys are going to go crazy. I run my fingers over a cluster of silky lupine petals as I listen to the sounds of the forest.
“Well ...” Adam turns his wrist, glancing down at his watch.
He doesn’t need to wait for me, but I know what he’ll say if I mention it. And what’s the big forest ranger emergency he needs to get back to?
I cock my head to the side, peering up at him. “What do you do out here every day?” I step back onto the trail. He follows me, and the tightness in my chest relaxes.
“Today I’m gathering memory cards from trail cameras.” He clears his throat. “We’ve had poachers in this area.”
I suppose that’s a noble cause. Adam might be bossy, but he means well. He’s doing good out here. “What else?” I ask as I climb up a gnarled mess of tree roots. This part of the trail is kind of hairy.
“Nothing too cr-crazy.” Adam chokes on the word, then clears his throat as he follows behind me.
I pause, considering the best route through a muddy, washed-out portion of the trail.
“Here.” Adam steps across the worst of it easily, bracing his legs and holding out a hand.
Without a thought, I take it and jump over the mud, letting him pull me to the other side. I land with a small “oof” and Adamdrops my hand. “Thanks,” I breathe, brushing my hands on my denim shorts.
The corner of his mouth quirks, but he doesn’t say anything. It seems like the only way to get any words out of this man is by bringing up invasive flowers, Bigfoot, or anything to do with me hiking alone. But it’s not terrible, hiking in the woods in peace. Adam is quiet company, but it’s the kind that isn’t necessarily uncomfortable.
This part of the trail is tighter, and Adam waits for me to walk ahead of him.
“Go ahead.” I gesture to the trail.
“I insist.” He nods at the narrow path, making a wave of his dark hair fall in his eyes, and he combs it back with his tan fingers.
With a sigh, I walk ahead of him, wishing I had thought to wear my cute jeans today. I threw on my cutoff shorts and a random T-shirt without thinking. I didn’t even brush my hair before I dragged it into this ponytail. I didn’t think anyone would see me out here. I smooth my hand over my head, praying that nothing too scary is happening up there.
We hike in silence for a while, except for the crunch of our boots on the ground and the sweet chirp of chickadees in the woods.
When the trail widens again, I stop in my tracks. The ground is even and clear here. Yellow sunshine pours through the trees, puddling on the grass and making the air smell like everything is right with the world. I take a deep breath through my nose. Recent rain, wet earth, spring flowers—that’s the good stuff.
“Hang on.” I put a hand on Adam’s shoulder before he passes me. “I’m just gonna ...” With one hand on Adam’s arm for balance, I take off my hiking boots, stuffing my socks inside and tying their red laces together.
“Uh.” His mouth hangs open for a second. “What are you doing?”
I dangle my boots over my shoulder, letting my bare feet settle into the sun-warmed earth. “Have you ever heard of grounding?”
