“I accepted the proposal because I wanted to understand why she was so determined to control your life.”
I stared at him.
“You knew she was controlling me?”
“I suspected.”
“Then why didn’t you warn me?”
His expression changed.
“Would you have believed me?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
He had a point.
If he had approached me weeks ago and said my stepmother was arranging a marriage to punish me, I would probably have assumed he wanted something. Marlene had spent years telling me that people only helped when they expected repayment.
“Besides,” he said, “I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want this.”
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“But I thought you might want a way out.”
The forest grew denser around us. Moss covered the stones beside the road, and thin wisps of mist drifted between the trees.
“Was there ever a chance you would refuse?”
“Yes.”
“What changed your mind?”
Silas was quiet for so long that I thought he might not answer.
Then he said, “Your father came to see me.”
I turned fully toward him.
“My father?”
“He asked me to go through with it.”
That made no sense.
“Why would he do that?”
“He said your stepmother had already made arrangements to remove you from the family trust.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“What trust?”
Silas’s eyes remained on the road.
“I don’t know the full details.”
“But you knew there was one?”
“I knew your father believed you would be left with nothing if you refused.”
I thought of Warren Langford’s silence outside the courthouse.
For years, I had assumed he was indifferent to what Marlene did. But perhaps there had been something else behind his silence. Fear. Cowardice. Or some secret agreement I knew nothing about.
“What did my father want from you?”
“Nothing.”
“People don’t do things like this for nothing.”
“He wanted someone outside the family to make sure you weren’t alone.”
I laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“He could have done that himself.”
“Yes.”
Silas didn’t defend him.
That honesty hurt more than an excuse would have.
The pickup turned onto a rough gravel road. Branches brushed against both sides of the vehicle. A few minutes later, the trees opened, revealing a small cabin set beside a clear stream.
It was older than I expected, but not neglected.
The walls were made of weathered cedar. A narrow porch wrapped around the front, with two rocking chairs and a stack of split firewood beneath the windows. A vegetable garden rested behind the cabin, mostly bare now that autumn had arrived.
Beyond it, the forest rose in layers toward the mountain ridge.
I had imagined something bleak.
Instead, the place felt peaceful.
Silas parked beside the porch and turned off the engine.
“This is it,” he said.
I looked at the cabin.
“It’s beautiful.”
He seemed almost embarrassed.
“It’s small.”
“So am I.”
That drew the faintest smile from him.
“Come inside before you freeze.”
The cabin was warmer than it looked. A fire burned in the stone hearth, and the air smelled faintly of cedar, coffee, and something savory simmering on the stove.
The living room contained a worn sofa, two armchairs, and a bookshelf filled with novels, field guides, and old journals. There were no expensive decorations, but everything had a place.
A framed photograph rested on the mantel.
I stopped when I saw it.
It showed a younger Silas standing beside an older woman with silver hair. They were outside the cabin, both smiling at the camera. The woman held a basket of apples, and Silas had one arm around her shoulders.
“Your mother?” I asked.
“My grandmother.”
“She raised you?”
“For most of my childhood.”
“What happened to your parents?”
He removed his jacket and hung it near the door.
“My father left when I was little. My mother died when I was eleven.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded, accepting the words without pretending they could fix anything.
“My grandmother passed away two years ago,” he said. “The cabin was hers.”
I looked around again.
“Is that why you live here?”
“It’s one reason.”
“What’s the other?”
He met my eyes.
“I like quiet.”
I smiled faintly.
“That makes one of us.”
“You don’t like quiet?”
“I like it when I choose it.”
His expression warmed.
“That’s different.”
He showed me the bedroom at the back of the cabin. There was a neatly made bed, a small dresser, and a window overlooking the stream.
