3. Madison
3
MADISON
A fter a surprisingly good night's sleep with just the sound of nature outside my window, I spoke to Ivy on reception and asked her to contact Archer for me. I'd kept away from the main resort after our meeting yesterday, choosing to eat in my cabin instead of the resort's restaurant, but I’d spent a lot of time thinking about him last night. Now I see him striding towards me, his flannel shirt hugging his muscular form, his stern face softened by the morning sun. He stops a few feet away from me, crossing his arms over his wide chest. His piercing blue eyes hold mine, and I'm startled by the intensity in them.
"Morning, Madison.” His voice is gruff but not impolite.
"Hi, Archer. I thought we might take that tour today if you're available." I twirl a strand of my hair, my nerves getting the better of me.
"Sure thing,” he replies, and even though it's brief and to the point, relief floods through me. Not because I was worried he'd say no, but because I'm not entirely sure how to navigate this dilapidated resort I now own on my own.
I follow Archer out of the lodge, trying to keep up with his long strides as he leads me down a winding path that I recognize from my drive up here yesterday. The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. I can't help but admire the way his broad shoulders fill out his shirt, the fabric stretching taut over his muscular back.
"So, this is the main trail that circles the property," Archer says, gesturing to the path ahead. It’s about a two-mile loop that takes you past the lake, the cabins, and through some of the prettier spots in the woods."
"It's beautiful out here," I murmur, breathing in the mountain air. "I can see why Grandma loved this place so much."
Archer nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "She sure did. Used to walk this trail every morning, rain or shine."
I wish I’d taken time off and spent some of it with her. You always think about things like this when it’s too late.
We continue on, Archer pointing out the different styles of cabins and sharing stories about the resort's history. I find myself hanging onto his every word, fascinated by his knowledge and passion for this place.
Suddenly, a loud rustling in the bushes startles me. I freeze, my heart pounding as a large, dark shape emerges from the foliage.
"What is that?" I yelp, instinctively grabbing Archer's arm.
He chuckles, patting my hand reassuringly. "It's just a wild turkey, Madison. They're all over these woods."
The turkey struts out onto the path, its feathers puffed out and its head bobbing. It's much bigger than I expected, and I can't help but take a step back.
"It's huge," I whisper, my eyes wide. "Are you sure it's not dangerous?"
"Nah, they're harmless," Archer says, grinning at me. "But I guess they can be pretty intimidating if you've never seen one up close before."
I nod, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I'm not usually so easily spooked, but something about being out in the wilderness has me on edge.
As if on cue, the turkey lets out a loud gobble, and I jump back, my foot catching on a tree root. Before I can regain my balance, I'm tumbling down the sloped edge of the trail, headed straight for the lake.
"Madison!" Archer shouts, lunging forward to grab me.
But it's too late. I plunge into the icy water, gasping as the cold shock steals my breath. For a moment, I'm disoriented, flailing my arms and legs in a desperate attempt to find the surface. Dammit, these cute fall boots aren't exactly made for swimming!
Then, strong hands grasp my waist, hauling me up and out of the water. I cough and sputter as Archer sets me on my feet, his hands lingering on my hips as he steadies me.
"You okay?" he asks, his blue eyes filled with concern. The warmth of his touch contrasts with the chill on my skin, and I feel it ignite something deep inside me.
I nod, shivering as water drips from my hair and clothes. "Yeah, I think so. Just a little wet and bruised, ego more than anything else. God, I must look like a total idiot to you right now."
Archer chuckles, brushing a strand of wet hair from my face. The feel of his calloused fingertips against my skin sends a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold. "Nah, it happens to the best of us. You should've seen me the first time I came face to face with a moose. Nearly pissed myself."
I laugh at the mental image of tough, rugged Archer cowering before a moose. "I guess even mountain men have their moments of weakness, huh?"
"Don't go spreading that around," he grumbles, but there's a playful gleam in his eyes. "C'mon, let's get you back to the lodge and dried off before you catch a cold."
As we walk back, Archer's hand rests lightly on the small of my back, guiding me over the uneven ground. I can't help but lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of his strong, steady presence beside me.
But as we finally reach the lodge, the state of disrepair the resort is in overwhelms me. Peeling paint, creaky floorboards, and outdated furnishings - it's clear this place needs some serious TLC.
"So, what do you think of the place?" Archer asks as I grab a towel from behind the reception desk. His blue eyes study me intently, and it's clear the resort means a lot to him.
I bite my lip, considering my words carefully. "It's got potential, but it needs a lot of work. Renovations, updates, the whole nine yards."
Archer nods, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I figured as much. Your grandma did her best to keep things running, but it's been tough without the funds to make the necessary improvements."
"I want to do right by her, by this place," I say, running my hand along the weathered wood of the porch railing. "Whether I decide to sell or stay, I can't just let it fall apart."
"You're thinking of selling?" Archer's voice is gruff, tinged with something I can't quite place.
I shrug, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don't know. It's a lot to take on, and I'm not sure I'm cut out for the mountain life."
Archer steps closer, his presence both comforting and unnerving. "You might surprise yourself, city girl. This place has a way of getting under your skin."
I meet his gaze, my heart skipping a beat at the intensity I find there. "What would you do? If you were in my shoes?"
He's quiet for a moment, considering. "I'd make a plan. Figure out what needs fixing, prioritize, and tackle it one step at a time. It's not gonna be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is."
I nod, feeling a surge of determination. "You're right. I can't make any decisions until I know what I'm working with. Would you be willing to help me? With the renovation plans?"
A slow smile spreads across Archer's face, transforming his stern features into something warm and inviting. "Thought you'd never ask."
As we head inside to start making plans, I can't ignore the flutter of excitement in my stomach. The more time I spend with Archer, the more I find myself drawn to him—to his strength, his knowledge, and his passion for this place.
I pull out the letter from Grandma Eleanor, my fingers tracing over her familiar handwriting. "You know, in her letter, Grandma mentioned that I should ask for your help. She said you knew this place better than anyone."
Archer's eyes soften, a hint of nostalgia flickering in their depths. "Your grandmother was a special lady. She always saw the best in people, even a rough old mountain man like me."
I smile, imagining Grandma's gentle spirit. "She had a way of bringing out the best in everyone. I wish I could talk to her now, ask her what she thinks I should do."
"I reckon she'd tell you to follow your heart," Archer says, his voice low and earnest. "Eleanor knew the value of this place, the memories it holds. But she'd also want you to be happy."
I tuck the letter back into my pocket, feeling a newfound connection to the resort, to my grandmother's legacy. "I'm starting to see why she loved it here so much. There's a magic to it, isn't there?"
Archer nods, his gaze sweeping over the rustic lodge and the majestic mountains beyond. “It’s a special corner of the world, that’s for sure. And with the right vision and the right people, it could be something truly remarkable."
As I look at him, I feel a surge of gratitude mixed with something deeper, something I'm not quite ready to name. "Thank you, Archer. For everything. I couldn't do this without you."
He reaches out, his calloused hand brushing against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my veins. "You don't have to do it alone, Madison. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."