“We’re not lost,” I say before looking over at the large pine tree that I’d been searching for.
“Behind that tree line is what I wanted to show you. It’s a little tricky to find, depending on how deep the snow is this time of year.”
She peers up at me, her eyes narrowed at first, but as she looks in, her gaze meeting mine, the tension in between her eyebrows relaxes.
“Oh, well why didn’t you say that?” she gripes, making me chuckle.
I lean in and kiss the tip of her reddened nose. “Because I didn’t want to.”
A bark of laughter passes my lips before I leap away from her swatting hand.
“This way, darlin’,” I say, swooping her up in my arms and fireman carrying her in the direction of the trees.
“Joel Townsend, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” she protests and squirms.
I don’t say anything as I carry her. The words ‘I like touching you too much to put you down’ gets stuck in my throat. Possibly because I recognize how true they are.
Or maybe it’s because I realize the depth of the emotions for the woman in my arms coursing through me for the.
The thought of separating from her for any length of time causes a literal ache in my chest.
“There,” I finally grunt out, placing Ellyn back onto her feet. I have to turn away to blink away the water in my eyes, not wanting her to see it.
“Pictures of you under this tree would look great to post along with the other pictures I took before our ride.”
Ellyn’s expression shifts from slight irritation to happiness in an instant, making my heart soar.
“Oh.” She glances around, taking in the beauty around us, while I take in the beauty right in front of me. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
And it’s not just because she does look like a goddess in her new white parka with the white fur neckline, which hugs her waistline perfectly, or the black leggings that cling to her legs before disappearing into the black and white snow boots.
The redness of her cheeks and nose create a perfect mix of toughness mixed with vulnerability.
“How’s this?” She poses against the tree, probably completely oblivious to the fact that I’m falling deeper for her with each passing moment.
“That’s it,” I say, taking her phone to snap a few photos of her with her right hand perched against one of the lower branches of the tree.
“Shake the branch so some of the snow will fall,” I direct.
Her eyes sparkle with renewed energy, and I take a photo with my phone, deciding to keep this one just for my private collection.
I spend the next ten minutes taking photos of her as the snow trickles down over her from shaking the tree’s branches and with the backdrop of the mountains from a different angle.
“This is what I wanted to show you,” I tell Ellyn, her hand in mine, as I walk her a little farther from the tree line.
From a distance, the hidden majestic can’t be seen. To the unknowing eye, it appears as if we’re walking toward the edge of a cliff. Ellyn’s hand in mine tightens, but the fact that she continues to follow me, this time no longer arguing or questioning, tells me she’s conceded to trust me.
There aren’t enough letters in the English language to form words to express what that means to me.
Ellyn gasps the second we come up on the little stream that flows, unbidden, through the snowbanks.
“This is probably the purest water you’ll ever find on this side,” I tell her. Then I jut my head toward the other side of the bank where a second stream flows into the first.
“They’re different colors,” she says, awe filling her voice. “Why?” The curiosity in her eyes calls to me.
I take her hand and bring us closer to the converging streams.
“They come from separate glaciers. That one,” I point at the darker colored water on the left, farthest from us, “comes from farther up the mountain. It has to travel a greater distance to get here and over a different kind of rock. This one,” I point at the clearer water, “flows from just a couple of miles up but the sentiment is a different kind, making its water clear.
