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After ordering a mug of cocoa and a plate of pancakes, eggs, and sausage, I took a seat near the large windows on the dining room’s righthand side and sipped. Hot chocolate surged over my tongue, plunging straight to my belly, making me feel completely satisfied if only for a moment.
I wanted to take in as much of this as I could because to every happy inhale I drew in, an opposite exhale left my body. This was my last morning here. I’d called the airline. Once the pass opened, I was leaving.
Every time a man stood from his table, every time a man entered the dining room, or left, I foolishly hoped it was Boone. Maybe he would change his mind and come charging back across the countryside on his snowmobile. Maybe he would whisk me away to his cottage for a final hour together. Maybe…
But no. He wasn’t coming. He hadn’t changed after all. He still clung to the notion that he was better off hiding his heart. That was why he refused to accept that his feelings were real.
And if I wanted to protect mine from him, I had to do the same.
Junie stood from her table and called to the room. She wore another Christmas shirt today. This one had Buddy the Elf on it, looking exuberated. Beneath his goofy excited face it said, “Smiling’s My Favorite.”
“Excuse me, everyone? Can I have your attention please?”
The chatter quieted. Children stilled, being urged back to their families’ tables. Some went willingly, while others took more coercion. Either way, Junie beamed at the room at large.
“Good morning and Merry Christmas!” she called.
A few people clapped, and many—including me—shouted, “Merry Christmas!” in return.
“After last night’s festivities, I hope you’ve all stayed nice and warm and gotten a good night’s sleep.”
Several people laughed. I wondered what I’d missed at the bonfire because this sounded like some kind of inside joke.
Junie went on, lifting her phone into the air. “I have some good news. For those wanting to venture into West Hills this morning, our sleighs and cars can now make it through. They’ve cleared the pass!”
Cheers greeted this, along with more applause. But not for me. Nope, this announcement soured the cocoa in my stomach.
I couldn’t understand why. I wanted this, didn’t I? I wanted to leave.
Junie continued her announcement, explaining how someone named Troy would be available with the sleigh after breakfast for those who wanted to venture into town on a Christmas ride. And while families celebrate and enjoyed their breakfasts together, I slipped up to my room.
Most of my things were packed. I did a final sweep in the bathroom, closet, and checked beneath the bed to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind. Soon, I had my suitcase handle in hand and my bag over my shoulder.
The doorknob was right there, waiting for me to reach. To turn it.
I couldn’t bring myself to.
“Anytime now,” I muttered, glancing around the room.
I waited, praying for the sound of mystical, festive chimes to hover in the air around me. To make necklaces appear. To bring Boone to my door.
My heartbeat rapped in time with every passing second. But there was no music.
And there was no Boone.
The will to leave dug in its heels like a stubborn mule being urged to enter an unfamiliar pasture. Something like worry filled my chest. Like if I left now, I’d always regret it.
“I’m sorry,” I told the room, “but I lied when I said I wanted to go home.”
At least I’d captured this mountainside in my story. I’d gotten a good ten thousand words written during my emotional ranting last night, and that was serious progress. Somehow, that didn’t feel like enough.
I would miss this charming, wonderful place. I’d miss Junie’s perky personality, the beautiful surroundings, and especially the cowboy.
Ever the cowboy.
A thought struck. On a whim, I pulled my bag from my shoulder and slipped the notebook free. I didn’t stop to think. Pen in hand, I wrote what was in my heart.
Boone,
