Page 160 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

“It’s a beautiful spot with your own hiking trail. You wouldn’t have to worry about setting up a home gym. Just climb this every day and you’d be in killer shape.”

“No kidding.” I was breathing harder than I ever had in a spin class.

We continued our hike, going up the steady incline behind the house that led to a ridge at the back of the property. My realtor had pointed us in this direction, encouraging us to hike to the top.

He was a good salesman, that one. The farther away from the house we walked, the more I was willing to buy it just so I’d have this as my backyard.

By the time we reached the final stretch of the trail, my thighs were burning. Sweat was beaded at my hairline and a drop rolled down my cleavage. I was comfortable in my cuffed boyfriend jeans and a casual T-shirt, but what I really should have worn was my gym attire.

“Almost there,” I told Thea as the trees opened up and the ridge came into view.

We pushed through the last twenty feet and smiled at one another as the trail leveled off, turning to run along the ridge. We followed it, stepping into an open meadow filled with spring wildflowers.

“Wow,” Thea whispered. “I’m starting to think a remodel is the way to go. Who cares what the house is like when you have this?” She held out her hands to the view.

“This is . . . unbelievable.”

From here, the towering mountains were visible in the distance. The one we’d just climbed was no more than an anthill in comparison. The valleys below were green and lush. The horizon went on and on for miles, and nearly the entire lake spread out behind our backs.

“Let’s keep going.” I took one step farther down the trail, but Thea grabbed my arm, holding me back.

“Wait,” she whispered, her eyes aimed ahead of us.

A momentary flash of panic hit. Is it a bear? I didn’t want to get eaten by a bear on my first real day in Montana. Slowly, I turned and followed her gaze, my feet ready to bolt at the sight of a grizzly.

But it wasn’t an animal that had caused her to freeze.

It was a man.

He was kneeling on the ground, about thirty feet in front of us. His head was bent and his eyes closed. His hands were pressed against his cheeks, his fingers straight as they steepled at the bridge of his nose.

Was he praying? Or meditating? Whatever he was doing, he was so consumed with it that he hadn’t noticed us down the trail.

His shaggy brown hair curled around his ears and at the back of his neck. His jaw was covered in a dark beard that tried its best to hide the fact that its owner was likely quite handsome. His green shirt was strung tight across his biceps and broad shoulders. It showcased the corded muscles of his back.

Even from a distance it was clear that he was the quintessential mountain man, big and brawny.

My first instinct was to get closer. I wanted to see what his face looked like if his hands dropped. I wanted to see the breeze play at the curled ends of his hair. But besides his rugged appeal, there was something else drawing me in. Something that made me want to wrap my arms around his narrow waist and promise him it would be okay.

He had a tragic allure, one that screamed sorrow and loss. I knew that pain all too well. Recognition hit me like a flash and I spun around, hurrying back in the direction we’d come.

That man was up here to grieve, and we’d just intruded on his private moment.

Thea was right by my side as I hustled to the trees, doing my best to keep my footsteps quiet. I held my breath until we disappeared into the safety of the forest. Neither of us spoke as we hiked down the trail, retreating to the house.

“I hope he didn’t hear us,” Thea said.

“Me too. Do you know who that is?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen him before, which is strange. I know almost everyone in Lark Cove. I bet he’s just visiting. We get a lot of tourists who come up and hike in the mountains.”

I nodded as my realtor spotted us. “What did you think? Nice spot, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Except when I took in the house’s exterior, my face soured.

The house was a tribute to midcentury modern design with a plethora of windows and odd roof angles. It was as far from my traditional taste as you could get, and to renovate this into my forever home, I’d have to change everything.

My head ached just thinking about the construction bill.