We don’t run, though. We walk side by side, the snow crunching beneath our feet. Forest creatures go quiet, watchingus pass, until a pair of winter larks trills out a musical greeting before taking to the skies. Val watches them go, enraptured.
I should not be this aware of her. Not the way her breath curls in the air. Not the way her eyes catch flecks of azure branches and pink sky. Not the way her mouth twists with her wandering thoughts.
Eventually, Val bumps my shoulder with hers, and I feel it down to my bones.
“You really know every plant in these woods?”
“Enough not to eat the poisonous ones,” I say.
“Ah, good. Let’s not do that.”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry. I promised you a fun day, and I keep my promises.”
She lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t expect this. Any of it.”
“What, the snowy trees? The wildlife? The stinging snow on your cheeks?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I thought the Frozen Forest would be harsher. Scarier. But it’s beautiful.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I thought I knew about the world. But I expected something more…unforgiving.”
“And now?”
She hesitates, then looks at me. “Now it feels like so much more than I was told. Not just the landscape, but the people. You. The kids. This whole life you’ve built.”
The honesty in her voice makes me slow.
I catch the way her eyes track a lone deer through the trees. “Give it time. You haven’t shoveled the cottage path in a blizzard yet.”
She grins. “Still beats being stuck inside all day, waiting for something to happen.”
“True, but then I figured everyone in the Sundalands spends their days outside. You know, at the beach, sunning themselves.”
She coughs. “Oh, right, the Sundalands. Well…when the storms blow in, then people stay inside.”
“Hm. I guess the lesson here is that we never really know how others live.”
“Lark, all those things you said back there about schools, the orphanage, the towns… I didn’t know any of that.” Sincerity rings in her voice.
I shrug, not wanting to expose her any further. “You do now.”
She’s quiet after that. Our steps crunch in sync over the snow-packed trail. The quiet between us is easy, allowing us each room for our thoughts.
Mine settle down a strange path, thinking how easy it is to forget that she’s only in our lives for a short while. This isn’t the beginning of anything, just a pause along the way.
My restless energy always wants to keep moving on to the next thing. Sentry Niemi may have forced this stop on us, but as soon as this is over, we’ll move on again. I’ve spent my life chasing the next step on a path I can’t see the end of, keeping busy so I don’t have to look behind me. The orphanage might have been the only home I’ve known, but it never felt permanent. It was always one bad winter or one official’s stormy mood from being taken from us. It’s why I’m so desperate to give the kids something different.
This woman makes me want things, though. Dangerous things. But slowing down means facing the possibility of failing. Of trying and still not being enough.
A raven caws in the distance, and the branches above sway, shedding a few flakes that sparkle as they fall. Val brushes one from her shoulder, her mouth turned down in concentration.
Finally, without looking at me, she asks, “Do you ever…have to kiss people?”
That draws my head up. Where have her thoughts been?
“That’s a jump.”
