Fueling His Hunger (Masters of Adrenaline 2)

They drove through a winding forest road for what felt like forever before finally reaching the park entrance. A big brown sign greeted them.

GLACIER NATIONAL PARK.

Immediately, Ophelia was swept up in her emotions. Something deep in her soul lightened with excitement and anticipation. This was a way to connect with her father again. It was difficult to hold back tears while Luke drove past the sign and farther into the woods. She only hoped it lived up to her expectations.

Tall trees corralled them on both sides. She rolled her window down, wanting to experience all of it at once. The wind rushed in, swirling her hair around her face. The air was crisp and smelled like cedar. The traveling fog that had been holding her mind hostage lifted, and she was intensely present and in the moment.

There’d been a lot of that feeling over the past two days. Her life had become so far removed from what was real, like she’d been sleepwalking through her days and weeks and months. Today, now, the sun on the trees and the wind in her face were all that mattered.

“I think we just follow this road to the lodge,” Luke said, squinting ahead.

Most of her father’s hotels were elegant resorts and high-end hotels. But here, a lodge felt more . . . right. The quality and service would be the same as all of his hotels, but people came to national parks for their rugged appeal. Here, it couldn’t be the same as a hotel in Paris or a Mexican beach resort.

“How are you doing?” he asked, looking over at her. They hadn’t spoken since entering the park, and she knew it was obvious she’d drifted off into her thoughts.

“Okay,” she mumbled. After a pause, she added, “Kind of weird.”

“You said it’s one of your dad’s lodges?”

She nodded. “This place . . .” she gazed out the window, “it was his inspiration.”

She really didn’t want to get into it much more than that. Her feelings were still too raw and she wasn’t sure what she was hoping for coming here anyway. Inspiration? To do what? Follow in his footsteps? Like she could ever hold a candle to the man. Hopefully, Luke would drop the subject.

After a few moments of silence, he said, “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

They drove further into the park on the long, level road. There were mountains up ahead but they still looked too distant to get excited about. Her dad had fallen in love with the scenery here, and she was starting to feel the same way. She was eager to go exploring. For now, she was even enjoying the drive.

About thirty minutes later, she spotted a sign.

LAKEVIEW LODGE.

An arrow pointed ahead and Luke slowed to a crawl. On the left, the trees cleared, revealing a chalet that almost seemed to grow out of its surroundings. The architect had been brilliant—the building lovely and natural, not marring the perfection of its setting.

Luke pulled into a parking spot on the small lot next to the building. It was nearly empty but Ophelia knew it wasn’t because the lodge was vacant. Most people came in by train or bus, or even on foot.

They both climbed out of the car. She inhaled a deep breath and stretched her limbs, which were numb from the long car ride. Luke opened the trunk and started to grab their bags, then stopped.

“I guess we should make sure they have a room,” he said. “We didn’t exactly call ahead.”

She hadn’t called for a reservation but all of her father’s hotels saved a suite in his name, just in case he or his family traveled through.

“They have a room for us,” she told him confidently.

“Oookay,” he replied, then pulled out both duffel bags they’d loaded with new clothes from the sporting goods store.

Ophelia turned in a circle, looking past the dirt parking lot. Behind the lodge, a turquoise lake stretched out like an oval mirror. A blanket of green surrounded it then gradually faded to browns, grays, and whites as her gaze moved to the far-off mountain peaks.

Beautiful. So beautiful that “beautiful” seemed like a stupid, hollow word. But she had a feeling she’d barely scratched the surface.

Luke was already several paces toward the lodge. He turned to her. “Not backing out now, are you?”

She shook her head. “Not a chance.”

Potted flowers hung from the lodge’s overhanging roof, and oversized wooden rocking chairs looked inviting on the wraparound porch. She smiled at a little girl rocking in one, giggling, dwarfed by the big seat.

They walked into the lodge and immediately she was greeted by the pleasant scent of cut wood. The foyer, like all of her father’s hotels, was a huge open area with a high ceiling. Instead of crystal chandeliers, there was a moose antler light. And instead of fancy paintings and statues, there were sculptures from the area and wildlife photographs. A large fireplace dominated the middle of the lobby with cozy couches angled around it. But even with all the rugged accessories, it gave the impression of comfortable splendor.

“I’ll ask if there’s a room.” Luke made for the reception desk.