Chapter 18
JONAH
She was like a child taking her first steps. Absolutely delighted with herself, as she clomped around the rest area testing out the snowshoes. I felt something in my chest as I watched her. A feeling. Kind of like… pride? But who was I, to be proud of her?
‘Widen your steps a little,’ I called out. ‘I know it doesn’t feel natural, but it stops the snowshoes from knocking into each other so much.’
She tried it. ‘That helps, thanks.’
I clipped into my own snowshoes and locked the truck. ‘Ready?’
She nodded. ‘As I’ll ever be.’
I smiled. ‘That’s the spirit.’
I’d hiked this trail hundreds of times in my lifetime, and I knew it was beautiful, but seeing it through her eyes made it feel like I was seeing it for the first time again myself.
The first twenty times she gasped out loud, my heart stopped, because I thought something had happened or she was hurt.
But I soon learned it was because she had seen something.
Sometimes it was something so small I’d have never looked twice at it, like an icy cobweb glittering in the sunlight.
Or a line of water drops, frozen in time, dangling from underneath a leaf.
Another time she grabbed my arm and when I looked at her, her face was wide eyed with pure joy.
‘Look,’ she whispered. ‘Over there, between those two trees. Is that…?’
‘A red fox,’ I confirmed. ‘Young one, by the look of it. Just as curious about you as you are about it.’
‘It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,’ she sighed wistfully.
‘You know they eat baby birds, right? And baby hares?’
‘Way to ruin the moment.’
‘It’s nature, right?’
‘So,’ she asked, after we’d been trekking in silence for a while, the only sounds the crunch of our snowshoes on the snow, and birdsong from the birds in the trees. ‘Is there, like, an actual destination to this hike? Or is it more of a “the journey is the destination” kind of thing.’
‘It’s both. And we’re almost there.’
‘Where?’
‘Wait and see.’
‘Fine, I’ll guess. Is it a lake?’
‘No.’
‘Cave?’
‘No.’
‘Hidden beach?’
‘No. Stop guessing.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we’re here.’ I led her down a short path, pushing aside some undergrowth. ‘Careful, the rocks are slippery.’
This time, she didn’t gasp. This time, she was speechless.
‘Welcome to Silverbell Falls,’ I told her. ‘Beautiful any time of the year, but especially now, when they’re mostly frozen.’
‘Oh, they’re beautiful,’ she finally managed to say.
We were near the edge of a waterhole. Around us, tall trees.
Pines mostly, but also tall birches, firs and spruces.
Some cedars. All covered with snow. On the other side of the waterhole, the river emerged through a narrowed gap in two small, craggy, rock faces, only a couple of meters high.
The river itself was only a couple of meters wide, but most of it was covered in ice and snow at the moment, apart from a small ribbon in the middle of fresh, running water that had resisted freezing.
It made a melodic sound as it fell onto the water and ice below.
‘How did you find this place?’ she asked, turning around in a small circle to make sure she was taking it all in.
‘Came across it one summer while hiking.’ I shrugged my backpack off and lowered it to the ground. ‘A few locals know of its existence, but most can’t be bothered to hike all the way out here for a swim when there are bigger, much closer waterholes to town.’
‘I don’t blame them. Two-hour hike to get out here and then yes, have a swim in this gorgeous, incredible setting, but, then you have to turn around and hike two hours back to your car, by the end of which you’d be all hot and sticky again.’
‘I think it’s worth it.’
She took a step forward, marveling at the waterfall, most of it suspended in time and motion. ‘It was definitely worth the hike today,’ she agreed. ‘It’s like something out of a fairy tale.’
I stared at the pompom on the top of her hat. Little flecks of snow resting in the green strands of wool.
‘Can I tell you something?’ I found myself saying, without even realizing I was going to say anything. There was just something about this moment, being here and now with her. It just blurted out. ‘Something I’ve never told anyone before.’
She turned around, her skin pale from the cold apart from two spots of pink on her cheeks and her little rosebud mouth. Her eyes sparkled at me curiously. ‘Of course.’
‘You asked me the other day, what my dream was.’
She nodded. ‘Yes. You said it wasn’t being a lobsterman.’
I opened my arms wide. ‘This is my dream.’
She frowned a little, understandably confused.
‘You know how I told you that my parents have always expected me to take over running the hotel.’
She nodded again.
‘It’s never appealed to me. Dressing up in suits, holding meetings, networking. Learning about occupancy rates versus staffing levels, and marketing et cetera. It’s just not me. But this, being out here. This is.’
‘I don’t understand.’
I hesitated, wanting to tell her but not sure if I could do a good job of explaining. Especially when it had only ever been an idea in my head.
‘The hotel is impressive, on its own. Luxurious and very, very popular as a destination. But that’s all it is.
A destination. I mean, it does offer the usual.
Spa, restaurants, bar and pools. But I feel it could offer more.
Like it’s missing a part of the market that people who come here would pay good money for, although it’s not just about the money. ’
‘Sounds intriguing.’
‘I think so.’
‘Are you going to tell me?’
I nodded, realizing in that moment that even though I was still getting to know her, I trusted her. I trusted her judgment. If she thought it was a terrible idea, well then, at least I’d know. ‘Excursions.’
She processed it, smiling encouragingly. ‘You mean, like this? Hikes to this waterfall?’
‘Yeah, exactly like this. Obviously, there are tour companies in Pine Harbor that offer the usual. Whale watching. National park tours. There’s the history museum, and brewery tours.
There are even some guided hikes, although mostly close to town, along the shore.
The lighthouse, seal colonies, et cetera.
All very nice, and definitely worth seeing, but Pine Harbor has so much more to offer. ’
She nodded. ‘I’m sure it does.’
‘Growing up, I spent a lot of time outdoors, exploring the island. It was better than being at home. There are so many off-the-beaten-path mini adventures. I’m not talking about taking big groups in fancy buses or anything.
I’m thinking small, exclusive tours. Offering the real experience of Pine Harbor.
The things that typically tourists don’t get to see.
’ I looked at my sleeve, suddenly fixated on a piece of cotton that had come loose from a seam.
‘You can tell me if you think I’m wrong. If it’s a stupid idea.’
‘Are you kidding? I think it’s brilliant.’
‘Really?’ I exhaled heavily, realizing how much her approval meant to me. How crushed I would have been if she’d told me my ideas were stupid.
‘Of course. Your guests would love it, and you’d be an excellent tour guide. You’re clearly knowledgeable about the area, and patient, not to mention easy on the eye.’
I snorted with laughter. ‘Thanks.’
‘Seriously,’ she continued. ‘I think you’ve found a niche hole in the market. Your parents will be thrilled to hear your idea. I’m sure of it.’
My good mood evaporated as quickly as my breath in the cold air. A puff of steam, swiftly dissipated. ‘Dad, maybe. But as far as my mother is concerned, my future is already decided.’
‘I don’t understand; she can’t make you run the hotel.’
‘No, of course not. But she can layer on the guilt thick enough until I’m left with no other choice. It’s what she’s good at. Manipulating people to get them to do what she wants. Now that Dad has had a stroke, she won’t even need to try so hard. I already feel guilty.’
‘What about your sister? Is she not interested in taking over from your dad?’
I shook my head. ‘She and her husband, Myles, are starting a family. She’s just had her first baby, Isabelle.’
‘I bet you’re a fun uncle.’
I pulled a face. ‘Maybe in a few years. All she does right now is cry, eat, sleep and poop.’
‘What about other siblings?’
‘I have a younger brother too, David. He’s a bit of a genius. In fact, he’s just been made an associate professor, so no. He’s not interested in taking over the hotel either.’
She gave me a sympathetic look. ‘So, it’s all on you then.’
‘Yeah.’
‘That doesn’t seem fair.’
‘No, it doesn’t.’
‘Why can’t they just hire someone to take over?’
‘Because it was built by a Sawyer and a Sawyer has always been at the helm.’
‘So? Times change.’
‘You’re preaching to the choir, believe me.’
‘I wish I had a magic solution for you,’ she said. ‘But I’m afraid the only advice I have it just to talk to them. Maybe if you tell them your idea, you guys can come up with a solution that works for everyone.’
I reached out and gently wiped away a fleck of snow that had landed on her nose. We were standing so close that I could see each individual eyelash. ‘Maybe. I feel better having told you though. Lighter, somehow. Like a weight’s been lifted.’
She smiled, and she was so cute I felt bubbles in my chest.
‘Thanks for trusting me today,’ I said softly. ‘It means so much to me.’
‘You’re an easy man to trust,’ she replied. ‘I don’t know why; there’s just something about you.’
We stared at each other, the world around us shrinking until there was only her and I, and the small space between us.
Only the way our eyes connected, the way our breath met in the cold air.
I swallowed hard, overcome by the sudden urge to kiss her.
My eyes traced her lips, hesitating. What if she didn’t want me to? But then she whispered my name.
‘Jonah.’
And I realized she was thinking about the same thing. Her pupils huge and dark, her breathing shallow. I lifted one hand and lightly touched her cheek, and she made a small noise, involuntarily, and it was nearly the end of me.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked her, my voice raspier than it had been only thirty seconds ago. She nodded, a tiny gesture, her hand reaching for my sleeve, her fingers clutching the fabric.
Our lips touched gently at first, inquisitive, curious.
She was soft, oh so soft, and up close smelled amazing, like summer, vanilla and coconut.
Her shampoo probably, I figured. The kiss deepened, and we both took a small step closer, somehow already in sync.
If I hadn’t needed to take a breath I could have kissed her for the rest of my life.
There was no awkwardness, just simplicity. As pure as our surroundings.
When we finally, gently, separated for breath, it wasn’t far, our foreheads resting against each other.
‘Wow,’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ I agreed. I didn’t need to say anything else. The look that flashed between us said everything that needed to be said.