I remove my hands. “Yeah,” I tell him. “Trust me, though, it’s still a wonderful surprise.”
“Here’s another one,” he says. “That’s not where we’re going.”
“It’s not?” I ask. “Then why didn’t you want me to look?”
“Well, the cat’s out of the bag on the waterfall part of it, but we’re going somewhere a little further off the main path,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I found it one summer when my family camped up here. I’ve never heard anybody talk about it, but I know I’m not the only person who’s found it.”
“How do you know?” I ask.
“Well, for one, I’m not that profound a wilderness explorer,” he laughs. “For two, there’s a little handmade sign near the plunge pool. It’s called Winterberry Falls.”
The sky is getting brighter by the minute, and both Dane and I are jogging now.
He leads me down a tiny dirt path that all but disappears after the first hundred feet or so, but we keep going.
I can hear the water in the distance, and my heart is pounding in my chest.
“We’re almost there,” he says, but I don’t see anything.
It’s light enough that I should be able to pinpoint where the waterfall is, but for the life of me, I don’t know where we’re going. I can hear the roar of the water, but it seems to be coming from a great distance.
“Just a little further,” he says.
We’re lost. This is just great. After the way I teased him yesterday, he’s probably going to drag us both deeper into the woods until we can’t find our way back before he admits he doesn’t know where…
Just ahead, the ground drops sharply. Dane’s pace slows and we veer to the left, avoiding the steepest part of the slope.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, stopping in his tracks.
“I trust you,” I tell him.
“How much?”
“Enough,” I answer.
“Close your eyes,” he says, taking my hand.
I close them.
He leads me slowly down the embankment, taking care to tell me what kind of terrain is in front of my every step.
My eyes aren’t closed very long before the ground levels beneath my feet and Dane steps behind me.
“All right,” he says.
I open my eyes, and there, directly in front of me is the waterfall. The pool at the bottom is rather calm as the flow of water is somewhat light. There’s a deep alcove behind the waterfall which seems to be the reason the waterfall sounds so loud from where we’re standing.
On this side of the current is a little handmade sign with the words “Winterberry Falls” scrawled across it.
“Get in,” he says. “I’m right behind you.”
The waterfall isn’t very tall, but it’ll more than enough for me to comfortably stand underneath it.
I step to the edge of the water and unbutton my pants. I take off my clothes, piece by piece, and shiver a little in the cool morning air.