Chapter 18 Darcy
DARCY
We get the tree more or less decorated in record time and bundle up for the walk to the lodge. I’m still buzzing with wild energy that has nothing to do with the holiday spirit.
My boss was about to kiss me.
A million times I’ve fantasized that he would take me in his arms, but those were all just daydreams fueled by late nights at the office and the sight of his arms when he rolled up his sleeves.
I’m only human.
But tonight was no daydream. He held my face in his hands and looked at me like he was a starving man and I was a feast.
But when J.B. called he backed off like he thought he’d been about to make the biggest mistake of his life…
I wish I knew what to say or do.
I could tell him how I feel, but if he doesn’t feel the same then I’ve ruined what we do have—which is about the best work relationship I can imagine, and a real friendship that I’ve come to appreciate even more since coming to the mountains.
I don’t have a lot of friends. Honestly, I haven’t made much of an effort because I have Mandy and I have my work.
Am I really ready to burn my whole life down just to know if Derek Lockwood like-likes me?
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 another one, 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.
“We have to 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 you doing, 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.”
“Does this mean we’re really staying for Christmas?” she asks.
There’s so much hope in her eyes, but that’s not up to me. We both look to her dad.
“We’ll see,” Derek says, but there is a glint in his eyes like he wants to say more.
“Cool,” J.B. says, spotting some of the ornaments we didn’t manage to get put up. “Are these for the tree too?”
“If you can find space for them, sure,” Derek tells her.
“And we saved the final touch for you to put on top,” I add, grabbing the angel from the bag to show her.
“She looks like you, Darcy,” J.B. says immediately.
“Really?” I ask.
I don’t see it. Except the brown hair of course. But dark hair is pretty common—J.B. has it and so does her dad.
But she doesn’t have anything else to say about it—she’s already hanging little bells all over the tree, humming “Deck the Halls” to herself.
Derek is watching her, looking so pleased. My heart breaks for him that he’s going to have to send her back to school after this. But at least for now he’s really happy.
“Tea?” he asks, catching my eye.
I nod and we head over to the little kitchenette to fix it.
It doesn’t hit me until he’s pouring the steaming water into our mugs that Derek Lockwood is fixing me a beverage for once.
“I could get used to this,” I tease him.
He turns and his eyes are on mine again, and I feel so much emotion surging between us I think I won’t be able to take another breath.
“Me too,” he says simply.
“I’m ready to do the angel,” J.B. sings out.
“Your dad should help you,” I tell her. “And I’ll take a picture for your great-grandpa.”
“No way,” she says. “We need a selfie of all three of us. We can stand on chairs.”
She’s already moving dining room chairs over to the tree and Derek jogs over to help her, a smile on his face. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile as much in the past three years as I have since we got to Angel Mountain.
I carefully unpack the angel from her display box. Her halo has a slot for a light, so if we tuck one of the tree lights in it she’ll glow.
We all climb up and I take a picture with my phone when J.B. places the angel on the top of the tree.
“My turn,” she says, grabbing my phone. “Get closer.”
I lean in.
“Closer, I said,” she tells me, laughing.
Derek wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me near, and J.B. leans back so that her head is between ours.
She takes about a million selfies, until we’re all laughing, and then hands me back my phone.
Now that the tree is finished, it really does look amazing. We all straighten up the living room together, flattening the cardboard boxes from the ornaments and gathering up the teacups, and then it’s time for bed.
“Good night,” Derek tells me quietly as I follow J.B. into our shared room.
“Good night,” I say.
Once we’re ready for bed J.B. climbs into her fort to read. There’s an easiness to it all, like we’ve done this a million times.
“Night, Darcy,” she calls out.
“Good night, J.B.,” I tell her.
Instead of reading my book I pull up tonight’s photos on my phone and scroll through every one.
Some are so silly, and others are out of focus, but some are really good. There are even one or two that are probably Christmas card worthy. But there’s one thread through every single picture.
We look so happy.
Like a family.