Edge of Woods Road

EDGE OF WOODS ROAD A MODERN GOTHIC FAIRY TALE DRIVEN BY DESPAIR BOOK ONE LEIGH MAYNARD Edge of Woods Road Copyright @ 2023 by Leigh Maynard All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. DRIVEN BY DESPAIR SERIES Edge of Woods Road 110 King Street (June 2023) Old No. 6 Highway (October 2023) * * * For Esmé, on her thirteenth birthday. It may be years before you read this book in its entirety. But I want you to know how much I love you, how much you changed my life for the better on that winter morning all those years ago. EDGE OF WOODS ROAD THE OFFICIAL PLAYLIST * * * 1. Faded from the Winter, Iron & Wine 2. Woods, Bon Iver 3. The Fox In The Snow, Belle and Sebastian 4. I Wish I Felt Nothing, The Wallflowers 5. Lightning Fields (feat. k.d. lang), The Killers 6. Lover, You Should’ve Come Over, Jeff Buckley 7. Waltz #2 (XO), Elliott Smith 8. La Campalesson—Arr. Edwards/Hirschfelder, Franz Liszt 9. Medusa in Chains, The Fratellis 10. I Know, Fiona Apple 11. Romantic Homicide, d4vd 12. Prelude in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 3, No. 2, Sergei Rachmaninoff 13. The Worst Part, Koe Wetzel 14. Here With Me, Dido 15. Everything Reminds Me Of Her, Elliott Smith 16. Hour of Deepest Need, Ezra Furman 17. P.S. You Rock My World, Eels Now Available on Spotify! CONTENTS 1. The Woman in the Woods 2. The Woman in the Cabin 3. The Woman in the Cabin 4. Baer 5. The Woman in the Cabin 6. Baer 7. The Woman in the Cabin 8. Baer 9. Sunshine 10. Baer 11. Sunshine 12. Baer 13. Sunshine 14. Baer 15. Sunshine 16. Baer 17. Sunshine 18. Baer 19. Sunshine 20. Baer 21. Helaine 22. Baer 23. Helaine 24. Baer 25. Helaine 26. Baer 27. Helaine 28. Baer 29. Helaine 30. Baer Epilogue Author’s Note Also by Leigh Maynard Acknowledgments About the Author THE WOMAN IN THE WOODS It isn’t snowing anymore. I’m thankful, but the painful throbbing in my fingers makes it difficult to think about anything except moving forward. One foot in front of the other. Over and over and over again. I don’t know where I am, or how I ended up on this snow-buried tract in the middle of the forest so late in the afternoon the sky darkens with each passing minute. I don’t know where I’m going. These details are a whisper away—hidden just behind the veil of my consciousness along with my name and where I came from. Who I am. I instinctively reach for them, stretching my mind to remember, but the harder I try, the farther out of reach they dance. Massive canopies of needled fir soar hundreds of feet above my head, frozen branches piled high with snow, popping and snapping in the wind, the cacophony quickly swallowed up by the stillness of the waning day. But there’s no hiding the sound of muffled movement beyond the tree line, the eyes waiting for me to succumb to the elements so they can take a closer look. Human or animal, something has been watching me, stalking me through these woods. The thought of turning back before it gets dark, before hypothermia extends its icy hand of death, sidles up to me like an old lover—familiar and comforting—until the voice chases it away once more. You can never go back. It’s a child’s voice inside my head—a boy’s. He urges me forward in dulcet tones, motivating in ways that belie his tender age, and I listen. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard him in the hours I’ve been walking. Hours and hours, I think, but really, I don’t know how long it’s been. I’m not wearing a watch, just a thin silver necklace with a charm—a cursive H—that’s bouncing from the high collar of my coat. My initial? It’s a letter that’s important to me, that realization a scrap I’ve squirreled away, a piece of a puzzle I’ve yet to frame out, much less solve. Keep going. Keep walking. The inside of my head is a cold, glacial cave, devoid of reference, thoughts, emotions—any handhold I might grasp to lend structure. All that echoes in the cave is the voice of the boy. Again, I listen, even as panic claws up my throat, stealing my breath. Who am I? How did I get here? Who’s after me? I try picturing my own face—nothing. I take a deep breath, the frozen vapor drawing a shudder from my hunched shoulders. I was shivering before. Now I’m not. My fingers ache, but I stopped feeling my toes a long time ago. It’s a bad sign. Wherever I got dressed to go this morning, it wasn’t here. I can kiss these suede ankle boots goodbye. The silk stockings covering my legs give a sexy swish with each step but do nothing to keep them warm. My coat is navy blue wool, heavy, but I have no hat. No gloves. My short fingernails are painted a dark red. I held them out in front of me when I could still straighten them. They looked like drops of blood against the sea of white. Luckily, the snow is only ankle-deep where I’m walking. Long, ragged tendrils of pale hair curl around my shoulders and help keep my ears and neck warm, but frigid gusts whistle through the trees, and every brisk step amplifies the sound of snow crunching under my ruined boots. Numb hands in my pockets, body turned slightly