“It’s working out,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to lose my shirt. I’d never do that to Charlie.”

“Dad thinks owning a ski resort is a guy’s fantasy, like owning a sports bar or building hot rods,” India explained to Darcy. “Fun to pursue, but no way to make a living.”

“Anything that’s fun is immediately suspect, right, Dad?” asked China.

“Girls,” her mother said. “That’s no way to talk to your father.”

Logan glanced over at Darcy. “Aren’t you glad you’re here? Lucky you, getting a ringside seat to our family feud.”

She laughed. “Sounds more or less like my own family, except we’ve got more girls.” She turned to Logan’s father. “My firm brought one of our biggest clients to Saddle Mountain for a photo shoot. It was fantastic. I can understand why anyone would be suspicious that something so much fun could also be profitable.”

“I see,” said Al. “And how did the shoot turn out?”

“One of the best we’ve done all year. The client was thrilled, and Saddle Mountain gets a lot of exposure.”

“You should show us the footage,” said India. “We’d all like to see.”

“I don’t know...” Darcy ducked her head.

Logan was intrigued to see her acting reluctant about it. “Come on,” he said. “It’ll give everybody a preview of the resort.”

She hesitated. “It’s very commercial, aimed at selling gear.”

“But it was filmed right here,” said Logan.

“Okay, does your TV have a USB port?” When he nodded, she said, “I’ll be right back.”

Nice one, thought Logan as she fetched her wallet and pulled out a USB drive. She’d managed to deflect the conversation about resort finance by getting everyone to shift gears.

“All right,” she said, “barring any technical difficulties...” She slotted in the thumb drive.

“Did you really bring work with you?” Logan’s mother scolded.

“Just a little,” said Darcy. “There’s a big outdoor retailer trade show in January, so I’ve got some deadlines.” Logan switched on the TV with the remote, and the client’s logo came up along with adrenaline-pumped music. “This is a montage with video that will be featured on the client’s website and in their retail stores. It’s going to go live this weekend.”

The opening sequence showed the mountain on a bluebird day, the peaks stark against the crisp sky. The broad panorama narrowed, homing in on a grove of birch trees. There was a panning shot of a deer, its head turned toward the camera, eyes alert with caution, before it turned and fled over the crest of the ridge, tail flipped up to show its white underside. The movement startled a brown-and-white hawk into sudden flight. Almost simultaneously, the scene dissolved into a sequence of a snowboarder exploding straight up into the sky as though shot from a cannon. A trail of sunlit snow sparkled in her wake; then she landed in a spray of knee-deep powder, then floated along through a forest glade.

“That’s Darcy, by the way,” India told her parents.

“The snowboarder?” her mother asked. “Heavenly days, really?”

“She’s good, huh?” India said.

“Good” did not begin to cover it. She was phenomenal, gliding through the snowy wilderness as if, for her, gravity was optional. She embodied everything a snow sport should be—fun and colorful, graceful and exhilarating. Saddle Mountain had never looked better.

At the conclusion of the presentation, Bilski leaned over to China and said, “Let’s take snowboard lessons.”

“Better yet,” said China, “let’s go shopping for all that cool gear.”

“My client would love to hear that,” Darcy said.

“The resort looks lovely,” said Logan’s mother. “I’m glad we’re here for the holidays. Truly.”

“Thanks, Mom. It’s going to be great, you’ll see,” Logan promised her. “It’s going to be awesome.”

* * *

“I hope those weren’t my brother’s famous last words,” said India after the parents had gone to bed.

Darcy, who was with her in the kitchen washing up the Irish coffee mugs, asked, “What, does disaster follow him?”

India chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out.” She reached for a glass jar and took off the top. “Christmas cookie?”

“Thanks.” Darcy helped herself. It was cut out in the shape of a gingerbread man, though it was missing a limb and had only one cinnamon candy eye. The red-and-white icing resembled bloody bandages.

“Those are the Walking Dead Christmas cookies,” said Logan, carrying a few more dishes into the kitchen. “The kids and I made them.”

Darcy took a bite. “Oh my gosh. This might be the best cookie I ever ate.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“I swear, I’ve never said that to a guy in my life.”

“He’s good, too, huh?” said India.

Darcy savored another bite. The cookie was tender and delicately spiced. It tasted exactly like Christmas. “I think he knows it.”

“He doesn’t mind hearing people say so.” Logan dimmed the kitchen lights and switched on the yard lights.

She gazed out the big picture window of the kitchen while polishing off the cookie. “It’s snowing again,” she whispered.

“He doesn’t mind hearing those words, either,” he said.

“Everybody loves the phrase ‘it’s snowing.’ There’s always been some kind of magic in those words.”

“Speaks to the kid in all of us,” India said. “Snow days, playing outside. In fact, I’m going to check on the bunk room and make sure lights out really means lights out. Then I’m off to bed. Night, you guys.”

“Night, India. Ski tomorrow morning?” Darcy asked.

“Only if you promise not to lead me over a cliff.”

“I would never.”

Darcy felt so grateful to be where she was tonight, relaxing among friends. But there was also an awkward element. Logan’s presence, just a few feet away, tantalized her. She felt confused by him, and full of questions. Maya’s kids were here, so where was their mother?

None of your business. She turned her attention to the window again and watched the big flakes gently coming down and settling on the pristine yard. An age-old yearning pressed at her chest; she was a kid again, with her nose pressed to the window. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Grab your coat and boots,” said Logan. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Really? You read my mind.”

“That’s one of my superpowers, didn’t you know?”

They bundled up in the mud room off the kitchen—down jackets, mittens, boots, a lantern and a flashlight.

“You’ll need these.” He handed her a pair of lightweight snowshoes. “Know how to put them on?”

She grinned. “I gear-tested this exact model.”

“Man. You’ll have to tell me more about being a sponsored athlete.”

“Sometimes it feels like turning work into play. Other times it’s more like turning play into work. So I definitely prefer the former.”

He handed her a set of poles and donned a backpack.

“What’s in the pack?” she asked.

“A project. You can help me with it.”

“What kind of project?”

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

They stepped outside together. The cold air and snowflakes touched her face, and she welcomed the freshness, tilting back her head.

“When it’s clear, you can count the stars,” said Logan.

“I feel a million miles away from the city.”

To the right and down a snow-covered track was a cluster of lights, the center of the resort. A couple of vehicles were just leaving the parking lot, their taillights making a cautious red line down the road.

“Last call at the Powder Room is at nine o’clock,” Logan said. “It gets pretty quiet after that. Let’s go this way.” They set off in the opposite direction of the resort. The lantern beam shone on a forest glade of striated birch trees. There was a moon, though it was a weak one, its glow diffused by snowfall.

“I love this,” she said. “I love the silence and the peace.”

“No regrets about not going to my folks’ place in Florida?”

“I’m kind of a fan of winter.” The snowshoes rode atop the featherlight snow. She savored the cold on her cheeks, the pumping of her heart as they hiked through the shadows.

“I noticed. You were fantastic in that video.”

“All in a day’s work.” She looked over at him. “Kidding. I have a day like that once in a blue moon. Most days, I’m stuck in meetings or in my cubicle like anybody else.”

“No cubicles here,” he said.

“You’re living the dream,” she said. “Maybe that’s why your father is so suspicious.”

“Yeah, according to him, it’s only worth doing if it makes you miserable.”

She wondered about his relationship with his father, and why things were strained. She wanted to hear more. She wanted to know everything about him.

The birch grove led to a perfect, unmarked field of white with a tall evergreen. “In the summer,” he said, “this is a bird meadow, and there’s a sports court over there.”

“You’d never know it. This is just beautiful, Logan. It looks like a Christmas card.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

A shadow fluttered past. Startled, she clutched his arm. “Hey, look!” It was an owl, swooping through the trees with wings spread wide. She watched, mesmerized, until it disappeared into darkness. “That was amazing,” she said.

He nodded. “An owl in winter. First time I ever saw something like that.”

“Really?”

“The dolphins were a first for me, too. I have really good luck with wildlife when I’m with you.”

For no good reason, she felt ridiculously gratified to hear him say so.