Then Marek stops again.
He turns and beckons to me to come closer, then points at the forest without saying a word. I hike up next to him and search for what he’s gesturing at.
“A white weasel,” he whispers. “On that stump.”
I finally locate it and break into a smile. “It’s so hard to see it. It blends with the snow.”
“Yeah.”
We watch for a few minutes until it disappears to tunnel under the snow.
“That was amazing.” I smile up at Marek.
He smiles, too. “Yeah.” Then he brushes a kiss over my mouth, and some much-needed heat balloons inside me.
Finally, we’re at Ridge Falls, indicated by a small wooden sign affixed to a tree trunk. Here, there’s a wooden walkway which makes walking easier, and a moment later we’re standing at the edge of a gully, looking down into it. The stream that usually flows through it is almost all frozen but there are places of open water amidst rocks and logs and snow. The falls are also frozen, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight.
“Oh my God. That’s beautiful.” I pull out my phone and take a few pictures.
“Let’s go closer.”
I pick my way carefully down behind Marek to get closer to the stream bed and he clears snow off a big rock for us to sit on. The waterfall is an incredible glacier blue, frozen in perfect straight streams from the edge of the overhang to the ground. Lower, the ice is like sculptures, frozen white mist and froth, encasing huge rocks with fresh snow collected on top.
“It looks like one day someone just came along with a magic wand and waved it at the falls and said the magic word, and it all froze immediately.”
Marek looks down at me, eyes alight with amusement. “What’s the magic word?”
I think. “Aqua gelato.”
He nods. “Sounds good to me.”
“I think it might be Latin. Or maybe not. Maybe I just made it up.”
Our eyes meet and a warm sweetness unfurls in my chest.
“You’re a smart girl,” he murmurs.
I go very still, as still as the waterfall, air deserting my lungs. Nobody has ever called me smart. Creative, yes. Impulsive, distractible, hard working. But not smart. When I got crazy ideas like aqua gelato as a kid, I learned to not say them, because people laughed or rolled their eyes. When I put them into music, though, nobody laughed.
Marek didn’t laugh.
I stare at the waterfall, trying to focus on it and drink in its pristine, frosty beauty. “Thank you for bringing me here,” I say quietly. “I love it.”
He slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. I wish I could feel more of his heat but our puffy jackets are preventing that. I lean my head against him.
A while later, I say, “My ass is frozen.”
Marek chuckles. “Oh, no! We don’t want that gorgeous ass frozen.” He stands and pulls me up with him. “Should I warm it up?” He starts to take off his gloves. “I’ll sacrifice for your beautiful butt.”
I giggle and bat him away. “Not here!”
“Let’s start heading back.”
I let Marek lead the way again. But when we come to a spot where two trails intersect, he turns a different way than I thought. “Wait! Is that the right way?”
“You doubt me?” He lifts an amused eyebrow.
“We came that way.” I point. “See? Those are our footprints.”
