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With his heart overflowing, the day was too glorious for Gideon to dwell on Archibald Findley—or even the past and the darkness that had been the focus of his life for so long. All he wanted was to bask in the feelings Rosie evoked in him—the wonder, the desire, the ease, the laughter, the hope. He wanted to bask in the miracle of their lovemaking. And he wanted to bask in this precious time with her, and with the kids.
Rosie suggested a trip across the Santa Cruz Mountains to Roaring Camp, which nestled in the redwoods next to Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. In addition to the steam trains taking passengers high up in the mountains or down to the beach, there was face painting, gold panning, square dancing, and more. The boys were so excited, vibrating with joy even as they waited in line to pick up their boxed lunches to eat on the ride up Bear Mountain.
Rosie was beauty personified. Gideon couldn’t take his eyes off her in her flowery tank top and jean shorts, her legs bronzed, her hair brilliant in the shafts of sunlight through the trees.
Noah and Jorge were ecstatic as the steam train rumbled up the mountain. They clung to the sides, leaning back in the open-air carriage to gaze all the way to the tops of the huge redwoods and Douglas firs, waving at the squirrels racing through the branches, asking the conductor a million questions about trains. After an hour and a half, as they chugged back into the station, the kids begged to have their faces painted. They insisted on Day of the Dead, while Rosie wanted to sprinkle them with flowers instead.
“Come on, Mom,” Jorge groaned. “Flowers are for girls.”
Rosie laughed and gave in. When the face painter was finished, Rosie snapped photos of the transformation to text to Ari and Matt. “We should take a walk through the redwood loop before we leave,” she told Gideon, pointing to a path through to the state park.
“Sure. That sounds great.” Everything she suggested was great. Because being with her was all he’d ever dreamed of.
Gideon still could barely believe last night had actually happened. His heart felt like it was in overdrive. Walking hand in hand with Rosie as they trailed after the two excited little boys, he knew what true happiness was. He’d experienced moments of happiness in the past; as a teenager, watching Ari jump rope, her face joyous, her laughter singing out; as a man, when he and Zach had pulled some ridiculous prank that made the guys roar with laughter; then coming home to Ari and Noah, watching them play in Matt’s pool, the childish giggles, Ari’s laughter. And especially Ari’s wedding. So, yes, there had been moments.
But the joy in his heart as he held Rosie’s hand in his—that would last a lifetime.
Their faces painted like elaborate black-and-white skulls—Rosie got her wish too, with the flowers and swirls the artist had added—the boys raced to the blacksmith to watch him work.
“We take a bar of smelted metal, and we heat it up on the forge.” The man explained the process as he pulled a stick of superheated metal out of the burning coals with a pair of tongs. “Now we’re going to use this hammer to beat it into shape on the anvil.”
“What are you making?” Noah asked.
Older, his face grizzled, his hair a cap of gray, the man had penetrating brown eyes and strong hands. “This will be a seahorse that can hang on a barn wall as a hook to hold horse tack.” He spoke in an old-fashioned accent as if he were truly a nineteenth-century blacksmith.
“Wow!” the boys exclaimed in unison.
For long moments, loud banging rang out. Then the blacksmith pondered his handiwork, saying, “Let’s see where we are.” He doused the still glowing seahorse in a large metal bucket, the water hissing and bubbling around it. Holding it up for the kids to see, he said, “I’ve got a bit more work to do yet.” Though Gideon could make out the curled tail, it didn’t look like a seahorse.
“How long does it take to complete the seahorse?” Rosie asked.
“Come back in a couple of hours.” He smiled brightly, then held up a finger. “But I’ve got one in process over here.” Placing the current project back in the forge, he fished out another bit of metal with his tongs. “I’ll just cool it down.” He let it sizzle in the bucket, then held up a beautifully formed seahorse.
“That’s amazing.” Rosie was as enthusiastic as the boys.
“Now we’re going to bronze it up like this.” Gripping the seahorse tight in his tongs, he laid it on the anvil and polished it with a metal brush. “See how the bronze comes off this brush and right onto the metal?” He held up the brush and the seahorse for the boys to see. “This little guy is still hot enough for the tines of the metal brush to melt onto it. And the seahorse shines right up.”
Rosie and the boys leaned forward to watch the magic as the gray metal turned bronze beneath the brush.
“How long have you been smithing?” Gideon asked.
The man’s face wrinkled into another smile. “Oh, about ten years. I was an engineer in Silicon Valley, but when a man retires, he’s got to find a hobby or he wastes away. So I took up smithing. I’ve been coming out here to Roaring Camp for about seven years now. Everything you see here—” He waved his hand at the array of tools behind him. “—is what was used back in the eighteen hundreds. And my wares are for sale here.” He pointed to a row of seahorses for hooks and forest animals for doorstops, plus key rings, decorative door hinges, candlestick holders, elaborate crosses. Even dice.
“These are cool.” Jorge picked up two. “They’re heavy.”
“Pure metal,” the man said. “And look at this one. I made a mistake—it’s got three on two sides.” He tossed a die onto his heatproof glove and held it out.
The boys turned it over to see the mistake.
“You boys can have it free of charge, since it’s not right.”
“Wow.” Jorge clutched it in his fist. “Thank you.”
Gideon bought each of the boys a pair of dice, because they were fascinated by the work and because the man had spent so much time with them.
“That was a great lesson,” Rosie said. “The kids really appreciated it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am,” the blacksmith said as he used his tongs on the unfinished seahorse and laid it on his anvil. “Come back if you’d like to see this one finished up.”
