Page 11 of One Golden Ring
“Oh, look,” Darcy says happily as we reach the little cabin at the end of the path. “Someone brought wood.”
Sure enough, the iron rack beside the house is full. Most of the logs are too big for the stove, but they’ve helpfully left an ax by the stump.
I guess I know how I’m spending the rest of the evening.
But when we get up to the porch and I open the door I can see the glow of the wood stove already going.
“That’s nice, isn’t it?” Darcy says, not even turning to look for an answer before she bends to remove her boots and put them on the mat by the front door.
“The bedroom doors are closed,” I point out. “I’ll open them up and maybe we can talk for a couple of minutes while they warm up. There’s something I want to ask you.”
“Oh, is it time for my surprise?” she asks.
For one second I have no idea what she’s talking about.
Then it hits me—thesurpriseproposalI hinted to Grandpa and Bronson about.
I turn to her in shock.
“I’mkidding,”she cries, her eyes dancing. “You should see your face.”
Her laughter fills the little cabin, and here I am, my heart falling down all over again.
My own laughter escapes me before I even realize it’s going to happen. It’s a rusty sound, but it feels good to laugh, and even better to laugh with Darcy.
She shakes her head, still smiling, and goes to open the bedroom doors herself.
I head to the fireplace and see that in addition to the wood whoever was here also left us another way to warm up—a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on a tray by the sofa. I pour us each a generous serving. Maybe it will be easier to ask her this favor if we’re both loosened up a little.
I take mine to one of the red chairs, figuring she’ll take the other and we can negotiate this across the table.
But when she comes back, instead of sitting across from me she curls up on the side of the sofa that’s right beside my chair.
Darcy dresses very professionally at work. But right now she’s wearing faded jeans that hug her curves, and a pink sweater that looks as soft as a cloud of cotton candy. I have to look away to stop myself from imagining how nice it would feel to hug her.
“First of all, thank you for coming down here with me,” I tell her, pushing her glass toward her.
“Oh,” she says. “No thank you.”
I glance back at her, but she doesn’t seem like she’s judging me or thinks I’m trying to ply her with alcohol.
I take a swig of mine and it brings a little heat to my chest. I don’t drink often, but if I was ever going to start…
Darcy waits, her eyes on the fire flickering through the glass window of the wood stove, like she chose tocome out here and relax by the fire instead of being summoned.
Am I the worst boss ever?
“I was at the office just a few days ago,” I hear myself begin as I put my glass down. “And I got a call from Maddie Foster, that’s the owner’s wife who you saw writing in the lounge. She was a kid that used to visit the lodge with her dad back when I was a teenager, so we know each other a little.”
Darcy nods.
“She was crying,” I go on. “She told me Michael was sick. But I didn’t believe her, so I called my parents. They said they knew but they weren’t sure how to tell me.”
I look down at my hands for a moment, not wanting to show her how weak it made me feel.
“My grandfather is probably my favorite person in the world besides my daughter,” I continue after a moment. “Even back when I was a kid my parents were always on the move. I used to spend a lot of time out here with him.”
“That must have been magical,” Darcy says with a smile.
