Snowbound

They got to the bedroom, too, and made love the

same way. But at some point—before he stripped her

of her clothes and she stripped him of his—she told him

she wouldn’t just be coming up to Thunder Mountain

on breaks. She would take a year’s leave of absence

from Willamette Prep. She wanted to be with him. She

could finish her master’s degree long-distance, and be

an innkeeper’s wife.

Sometime after they made love, she also told him

Willow’s father had agreed to make a reservation for one

of the cabins the same week Dieter’s parents had already

booked another one. “And I was thinking,” she said.

“That we could invite all the kids to come? Their

families, too?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“What do you say,” he suggested, “that we hold our

wedding then? Where we met? The lodge is big enough

to house our families, our friends…”

Fiona cried again, but from happiness.

And in between her offer to bury herself in the wilderness with him, and his idea of a summer wedding, they did make love. In those moments, as close to her as it was

humanly possible to be with a woman, John knew for sure

he, too, could be happy. It was even possible that what he

felt now was richer, because it hadn’t come easily.

Wouldn’t come easily in the future.

“I’m going to backslide,” he warned, holding her

sprawled atop him, a few curly strands of her hair wandering to tickle his nose.

“Um,” she murmured in agreement, seemingly undisturbed. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, then lifted her head to smile at him. “But, you see, it won’t

be the same. Because I’ll always be there to catch you.”

She couldn’t have offered a declaration of love that

meant more to him. John’s heart squeezed and he closed

his eyes, wishing the boys could know.

Wondering if they did.

* * * * *