Page 58 of One Golden Ring
A walk in the fresh mountain air will clear my head. We head out into the clear cold night and I’m struck again by the beauty of the stars. Why does it have to be so infuriatingly romantic out here?
Please let me hold it together.
Neither of us says a word the whole walk. It’s just the crunch of our footsteps and our breath pluming around our heads. Derek clears his throat once like he’s about to say something, but then seems to change his mind.
Finally, the lodge comes into view against the snowy woods, its windows glowing merrily, and I feel a little better knowing we’re about to see J.B. and Michael.
“Here you go,” Derek says gruffly as he jogs ahead and opens the door to the lodge.
We step inside to find J.B. waiting in one of the big chairs by the fire, headphones on. She’s sitting under the local artist’s portrait of the lodge that Derek won in the silent auction and promptly donated to this place he loves so much.
“Hey, guys,” she says, shooting out of the chair and pushing her headphones down to hang around her neck.
“Where’s your great-grandpa?” Derek asks.
“He fell asleep during the movie,” she tells us.
I wonder for a second why she offered to start anotherone, and then I realize she was just offering us more alone time.
Does she really want us to be together, or is this all just some complicated game of chicken?
“Where’s my surprise?” she asks.
“Oh, it’s back at the cabin,” Derek tells her.
“Then what are we still doing here?” she asks on her way to the door.
We wave to Margo as we head out, and then we’re walking under the stars again, but this time J.B. is telling us all about what she wants to do tomorrow, which is a welcome distraction.
“Wehaveto take Darcy for a horseback ride,” she tells her dad, a huge smile on her face. “We can ride to the top of the mountain and stand at the lookout.”
“The lookout?” I ask.
“It’s at the very peak of the mountain,” J.B. explains rapturously. “You can see for miles and it’s nothing but hills and trees and sky.”
“That side of the mountain is a state park,” Derek adds.
“It sounds incredible,” I say.
“The lookout is my favorite place in all of Angel Mountain,” J.B. says, blowing out a cloud of breath like some kind of Christmas dragon. “You’re going to love it. It’s a perfect place to stop and think.”
I smile at the idea that my favorite thirteen-year-old likes a chance to clear her mind. We all do, but I don’t remember being able to articulate that need when I was her age and hiding myself away in my room. She really is something else.
When we get back to the cabin, I stop her on the porch and cover her eyes.
“What are youdoing, Darcy?” she laughs. But I can tell she loves it.
Derek pops inside and plugs in the tree.
When J.B. sees it she explodes with joy and rushes inside.
“This is amazing,” she says, running all around to admire it from every angle.
“It has a bare spot in the back,” her dad says.
“Who cares?” she practically yells. “You can’t see that side anyway. I love the decorations. You even got some Foster’s on there so you know it’s legit. Is this what you guys did all night?”
“It was really nice of you to go with your great-grandpa instead of sticking around for the tree and the Host of Angels,” I say. “We thought it might be fun to have a tree of our own.”
