Page 25 of Meeting Me, Loving You (Hearts of Maple Lake #1)
JULIET
W e’re almost to the top of the mountain, the beautiful winter wonderland steadily passing by as the train climbs up toward the summit. Snow still clings to the trees for what seems like miles, the pines looking especially beautiful with their green branches dusted in sparkling white.
I’m glad we’re in the dome car. Massive oak trees tower over the train, their branches bowing to create tunnels in several spots.
Icicles melt over the train car as we continue moving forward, and my gaze follows the paths of the water droplets sliding over the domed glass roof and down the side window.
Cam started out sitting in the window seat, but he quickly offered to switch with me, giving me the better view.
I had insisted he didn’t have to, but he won that argument, ever the gentleman.
My plan had been to study during the trip, and maybe get Cam to help me because, in my mind, every moment not studying is wasted. But, with a little persuasion, he talked me into saving the flash cards for later.
I can’t stop thinking about how strange he acted during that conversation, first holding my hands, but then pulling away like he didn’t want any part of me touching him.
One minute, he’s friendly, full of intense looks and teasing remarks, but in the minute following, he becomes guarded and standoffish.
I’m not used to feeling this kind of energy from someone’s touch, and I have to reign in my thoughts before I get carried away.
Cam’s friendship is more than enough as it is, and heaven forbid I start thinking it could be something more.
Besides, I’m not looking for any kind of relationship with anyone, not unless I knew for certain that someone would be staying in Maple Lake for the long haul.
And I don’t know how long Cam’s going to stay here. He’s moved once before; it’s possible he’ll regret coming back. Maybe he’ll find that Maple Lake isn’t how he remembered it at all.
The train begins to slow as we pull into the depot at the lodge, the beautiful crystalline roof of the train being cast in the shadows of the building where we will spend the next half hour.
Throughout the forty-five minute ride up the mountain, Cam slowly warmed up to me once again, opening up about aspects of his life in Washington. It sounds like he had an exciting life up until now, and it’s just a matter of time until he wants that back.
I try to imagine Cam somewhere else, having a whole life apart from this one, the complete opposite of all I’ve ever known.
It sounds exciting. Although moving away at the age of fifteen wasn’t his choice, he’s made the most of it.
He’s had every opportunity to follow his passions, to attain his dream job.
And it all started because he left Maple Lake. He left, and he blossomed.
My shoulders sag as I think about my own life, how much I’ve given up and sacrificed to stay here, patiently waiting for Natalie to come home. My life could be fun and exciting like Cam’s. I could chase my dream of attending an amazing nursing school and later open my own practice.
But, as strong as the temptation is to leave this place, the twisting in my gut when I think of missing Natalie, should she return, chains me to this town.
When the train begins to noticeably slow down, the deep voice of the conductor comes over the speakers, just as it did during our departure.
“We have now arrived at the summit of Eagle Ridge, elevation two thousand thirty-two feet above sea level. Eagle Ridge is home to several American Bald Eagles, hence the name, and is a part of the Pennsylvania Appalachian Mountain Range.” The speaker crackles before the conductor continues.
“This train will be stopping for thirty minutes before heading back to Maple Lake Station. Please watch your step as you exit the train, and enjoy the lodge.”
I look at Cam, whose face is alight with excitement, and it leaves me wondering why this makes him so happy. No one should be this excited to sit in a lodge, should they? We wait another couple of minutes for the train to come to a complete stop, then people begin to stand from their seats.
“Well, let’s go,” he says, standing in the aisle and allowing me to step out in front of him. We make our way out onto the platform and stop to gaze up at the lodge towering before us.
“I forgot how big it is,” I say under my breath.
“When was your last time at the lodge?”
“When I was fifteen. Dad would take Ty snowboarding, and mom would sit with Natalie and me in the lodge. We’d get snacks and play cards by one of the large stone fireplaces. It was cozy; I loved it… But we didn’t always take the train. We usually just drove.”
I breath out a contented sigh, the memories flowing back to me in an instant .
Dad is covered from head to toe in his orange snow gear, goggles hiding his eyes, with a scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth.
He’s wearing a helmet and walking stiffly, ski boots on his feet as he walks through the lodge.
I can see him over Mom’s shoulder. She sits on the floor across from me as we play UNO at a low table.
Natalie sits beside her, drawing on a notepad.
The warmth of the fire spreads over my back and Mom lays a card down.
“Your turn, sweetheart,” she says, smiling at me.
Mom hasn’t noticed Dad yet, and he puts a finger up over his mouth, urging me to stay silent as he attempts to tiptoe over the carpet in his boots. I lower my eyes from him, hiding a smile behind my sleeve-clad hand.
In the next moment, Dad wraps his arms around Mom from behind, embracing her in a tight hug while she throws her head back and laughs, turning to look at him.
He leans his body over her shoulder, and she lowers the scarf from his face, exposing his nose and lips.
She kisses him as he dangles upside down over her.
“Gross,” I say, looking over at Natalie. We both scrunch our noses up in disgust, but it quickly turns to smiles and laughter. Mom and Dad have always been open with their affection, often using it to tease us. And he’s always loved playing pranks on her, jumping out at her and making her laugh.
Cam places his hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the entrance of the lodge.
“Let’s find you some coffee,” he says.
Through the thick fabric of my jacket, I feel the gentle pressure of his hand splayed across my back. I want to lean into it. But I walk forward, guided by his firm touch as he opens the door and leads me inside.
The expansive front lobby is open and warm, a fire burning in a hearth on each side of the entryway.
The ceiling is tall, while a balcony runs along the upper floor, looking down on plush leather couches and wooden side tables.
Lamps and antler chandeliers with faux candles light the room in a soft, cozy glow.
Families mingle throughout the space, some lining up at the snack counter while others enjoy the seating areas spread throughout the lodge.
It looks exactly as I remember it.
We walk across the lobby and stand in line at the snack counter. When it’s our turn, Cam orders two coffees, but I quickly interject.
“I’ll just take a hot chocolate, actually.”
“Oh, sure,” he says. He turns toward the cashier. “Make that one hot chocolate and one coffee, black.”
He pays for the drinks, and we stand to the side and wait.
“I’m going to pay you back for the hot cocoa, and for the train ticket,” I say.
“What? No, don’t worry about it. I asked you to come on these excursions. If there’s a charge, I’ll pay for them.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t mind paying, at least for food and drinks.
Please.” I look down at my hands, not wanting to make things uncomfortable, but also hoping he’ll understand.
“I’m not…” I swallow. “I’m not used to anyone doing stuff for me, like paying for things.
I’m used to doing things on my own, and I want to pay for myself. ”
Cam’s gentle green eyes linger on mine for a beat, searching. He opens his mouth to protest, but then closes it again. For a second, his eyes move down to my lips, but then he blinks and takes a step back.
“Okay,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets.
His jeans are dark today and fit snugly on his thighs.
“But I’ll buy the tickets for whatever tourist activities we do since those were my idea.
And during these activities, you can pay for whatever you want that’s an extra cost. How does that sound? ”
My shoulders drop, releasing the tension that was building in me.
I feel relaxed again knowing I have some semblance of control back.
I can’t have Cam spending all this money on me, on top of all the time he’s putting into this tourist list. This is something he wants to do for himself, and I won’t be the one to drain him of his fun by allowing him to front all the costs.
“Sounds perfect, thank you,” I say with relief.
“No problem,” he replies. The teenager working the counter calls out our order and Cam turns to grab our drinks.
Handing me the hot cocoa, he says, “I’m surprised you didn’t want coffee, seeing as you love it so much.”
“This is going to sound lame,” I say, “but I’m really picky on how I take my coffee.”
Cam chuckles and says, “And that is one of the reasons I just drink it black. No fuss.”
We make our way to one of the leather couches near a fireplace, and when we sit, I note that Cam leaves space between us. I remove my coat to better feel the warmth of the fire on my body, soaking it in through the long sleeves of my shirt.
“I’ve tried black coffee, but, Cam, it’s disgusting.” I wince, remembering the time I tried my dad’s coffee when I was twelve. It was so dark it tasted like bitter dirt and had the consistency of gasoline.
Cam’s laughter fills the echoing hall, warming my insides where the fire can’t reach, while making my heart race.