Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Nysa
Weekends in Birchwood Springs are always lively, but when there’s a festival in town, it’s a whole other world.
The streets are packed with people, booths lining the sidewalks selling homemade crafts, fresh lemonade, kettle corn, and of course maple syrup. The scent of roasted nuts and sugar fills the air, mixing with the distant sound of a bluegrass band playing from the gazebo in the town square.
Children run past, their laughter bright and infectious, their faces painted with butterflies and superheroes.
And right in the middle of it all?
Maddie.
Perched on Hopper’s broad shoulders, her tiny fingers woven into his hair as she giggles, pointing at every little thing that catches her attention.
“Daddy, dook,” Maddie gasps, kicking her little feet excitedly as we pass a stand selling stuffed farm animals.
Hopper lifts a brow, pretending to be unimpressed. “Hmm. What am I looking at, Pumpkin?”
She leans down dramatically, her little arms wrapping around his forehead so she can whisper, “A hosey.”
“Horsey,” I correct her.
Hopper chuckles. “I know a place where we can see real horses.”
Maddie gasps again, more dramatically this time. “Whe?”
I shake my head, laughing. “Your ranch, Hopper. The one you work at every day?”
He smirks at me, then looks back up at Maddie. “Should we get you a horse? Maybe a pony for you, Maddie?”
Maddie squeals, and I gasp, shoving his arm. “Hopper, don’t promise her a horse. She’s two.”
Hopper’s smirk grows. “I never said when I’d get her one.”
Maddie doesn’t care about technicalities—she just throws her arms in the air, ecstatic. “Yay! I wanna hosey.”
I sigh, but I can’t help but smile. Because right now? This feels perfect. Like we’re just a normal family enjoying a festival, without fear, without threats, without someone watching.
We stop at a stand selling apple cider and maple donuts, the smell of sugar and cinnamon wrapping around us like a warm blanket. Hopper reaches up, lifting Maddie off his shoulders and setting her down gently. She darts toward the table, her little hands grabbing one of the tiny sample cups, and takes a big, dramatic sip.
Her eyes go wide, and she gasps as if she’s just discovered the meaning of life.
“It tastes like warm happy,” she announces, her voice bright and full of awe.
Hopper lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he glances at me. “This kid spends too much time with you.”
I shoot him a mock glare. “And you’ve got a problem with that?”
He grins, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my cheek, the heat of it lingering long after he pulls away. “Nope. I love it.”
The casual PDA catches me off guard, and I swear half the town just saw it. By five o’clock, I fully expect the Birchwood Springs rumor mill to have us halfway down the aisle, planning a wedding we’ve never discussed.
Hopper grabs a cup of cider for himself, takes a sip, and nods approvingly. “Not bad.”
Maddie tugs at his sleeve, her eyes wide and pleading. “More, pwease?”
“Of course, pumpkin,” he says warmly, pulling out a few bills and handing them to the vendor before refilling her tiny cup.
As he does, my gaze drifts across the festival. The square is alive with people, laughter, and the occasional squeal from the kids running between booths. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I see it.
A figure.
It’s only for a second—a flash of movement near the far side of the square. A man standing too still, his posture unnatural, half-hidden behind a vendor’s tent. He’s wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled up, but it’s not the outfit that sets me off. It’s the feeling.
The way my stomach twists.
The way I can feel his eyes on me.
Watching me.
Watching us.
My breath stumbles, and the once festive sounds around me now feel overwhelming, too loud, pressing in from all sides. My hands clench into fists as I blink hard, forcing myself to look again.
But he’s gone.
Just like that. Like he was never there at all.
I don’t realize I’m shaking until Hopper steps closer, his hand settling against my lower back.
“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and careful.
I swallow hard, trying to steady myself, nodding even though my skin feels electric, every nerve on edge. “Yeah. Just . . . thought I saw someone.”
His body tenses beside me, his fingers pressing a little more firmly against my back. “Who?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice quiet. “He was . . . I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s gone now—or maybe he wasn’t even there.”
Hopper’s jaw tightens, his eyes scanning the crowd like a predator sizing up threats. He doesn’t look convinced. And honestly? Neither am I.
Because I know he was there.
And he wanted me to notice him.
Maddie tugs at my sleeve, oblivious to the tension building between Hopper and me. “Can we go to the big slide, Nysa?” she asks, her wide brown eyes full of excitement.
I force a smile, willing the unease to recede, at least for her sake. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Hopper doesn’t move right away, though. His eyes keep sweeping the crowd, a tic in his jaw as his free hand twitches at his side, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for something.
I place my hand lightly against his chest, my fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt. “Hop,” I murmur, keeping my voice soft. “Let’s just . . . enjoy the festival, okay?”
He looks down at me, his blue eyes burning with something that makes my stomach flip—not fear, but something else, something deeper.
For a moment, I think he’s going to argue, but then he exhales, his shoulders relaxing just enough to look convincing.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Okay.”
But I know him.
I know that look, the way his mind never stops working. He’s not letting this go.
And neither am I.
We make our way to the giant inflatable slide, Maddie practically vibrating with excitement as she watches the other kids climb to the top. Hopper crouches down, lifting her effortlessly and setting her at the base of the steps.
“Hold on tight,” he says, his voice warm but firm, and for a moment, the tension between us melts away.
Maddie scrambles up the steps, her giggles trailing behind her. When she throws herself down the slide, her laughter rings out, bright and full of life, cutting through the unease like sunlight breaking through clouds.
For now, I hold onto that sound. Because whatever’s coming? I know it won’t wait forever.