“Um …” his voice faded.

“No, never mind. That was nosy of me,” I said.

“No. Hey, I’ve done my share of nosing around your life.”

And then I heard him give a small sigh.

“Actually, well … my mom died two years ago. In a drunk-driving accident.”

I felt my breath stop. My throat tightened. I wanted to disappear.

“I’m so sorry,” I finally managed to say.

“That’s okay,” he said.

There was another long silence then, but this one didn’t feel so great. My heart was pumping double time. I wanted somehow to make this moment okay.

“I told you sooner or later you’d want me to shut up.” My voice sounded small and weak now.

But Eric stopped walking and turned toward me. I stopped, too. His eyes were soft and almost smiling, and he took my mittened hand in his.

“Seriously, Sam, it’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to tell you. I think that’s why I reacted so strongly to you and your … stepmom.”

“Yeah, I guess that seems pretty silly, when you think about … I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. Please.” Eric held my arm, and I could feel his eyes without looking at him. “And if I wanted to, I could’ve easily lied. But I wanted to tell you, because … I don’t know. I felt like you’d get it.”

“I do. I think,” I said.

Then we came to a dense clump of trees. Eric ducked his head under a branch and went in, with me right behind. The trees were so tightly woven overhead that there was barely any snow on the ground in here. Just a bed of pine needles that crackled and crunched under our feet. Eric stopped and looked up.

“This is my favorite spot. There’s a quiet out here that I can’t find anywhere else.”

He put his hands on my shoulders and led me into the center of the patch. Then he came around and faced me again, this time lifting his head up to the sky, his eyes closed. I did the same. He was right. There was an incredible hush all around us, like the whole world stopped within these trees. It felt like I could hear each snowflake landing and gently melting. Like I could hear to the other end of the world, but was protected from it all in this peaceful cocoon.

Eric took in a deep breath. And then I pictured him standing there in front of me, his eyes closed, too. And now I could hear my heart pounding, pounding.

Levy! What was that about?

I wondered if Eric could hear it, too. I opened my eyes. He was still standing there, only now he was looking right at me, his eyes the most spectacular, earthy green. Completely open and so honest that I had to look away into the trees.

“Wow,” I whispered. “Do you come here a lot?”

Ugh, Levy! Really smooth. But at least I hadn’t said, “What’s your sign?”

“As often as I can,” he said.

“By yourself?”

“Well, Fozzie.”

“Have you ever slept out here?”

“Yeah, once or twice.”

“By yourself?”

“Sure.”

He started laughing softly.

“Sam?” he said.

“Yeah?” I looked back over at him. He was smiling.

“Never mind,” he said. “You okay to go a little farther?”

“I think so.”

We came out of the trees and followed a path through a narrow opening between two big boulders. The land unfolded in front of us in glittering white hills. It was hard to tell where the mountains ended and the sky began. We kept on walking, the snow swirling all around us.

“Look at that!” Eric whispered as we came near another bunch of trees, putting his arm out to stop me. There was a deer hiding behind one of the pine trunks, every muscle in her body still except for her tail flicking wildly. She was the most beautiful shade of chestnut, with long, sculpted legs. I felt like I could see every muscle in her body even as she stood there. Then her head moved sharply, like she heard something in the wind, and she galloped off.

We continued on. We walked for miles, I’m sure of it. And I could’ve kept on going miles more. Eric stopped when we got to a ledge overlooking a small valley.

“Come here. Get a good look,” he said. I stepped forward slowly.

The view was spectacular. There was a small village below us, rooftops covered in a silky-smooth white, and chimneys with puffs of blue-gray smoke drifting up into the sky. Trees bent together under the weight of the newly fallen snow. It was coming down really fast now, melting on my cheeks, my nose, my eyes.

“Oh, I would love to live there,” I sighed.

“Yeah, that would be fun, huh?” said Eric. And then I felt his hand gently rest on the small of my back. It was that place just below my ribs where my mom used to rub me as I fell asleep at night. She had the gentlest hands, the smoothest touch. If I was crying or scared or I just couldn’t fall asleep, it was always the spot that soothed me. Nobody since then had ever touched me there. Until this moment. And now, even through my thermals, my sweater, my jacket, I could feel my spine tingling.

“Well, I guess maybe we should head back. It is coming down pretty thick,” Eric said.

It was true. It looked like one of those snow globes that Ashley was talking about, and it was getting hard to see. Still, I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want our afternoon to end. But, of course, I said, “Okay.”

Eric called out Fozzie’s name. I had forgotten all about him. There was a rustling in a small line of trees ahead of us and then Fozzie leaped out, bobbing over mounds of snow, his coat white and sparkly.

“Good boy,” said Eric, rubbing him down. He fished into his pocket and pulled out a piece of bacon for him. Fozzie jumped up and down, licking his lips. “Home, boy! We’re going home!”

Without missing a beat, Fozzie started back in the direction of the inn.

“He knows the way,” said Eric.

We walked back in silence. The wind had picked up now and was blowing everything sideways. Fozzie had his head to the ground, and I could only see his tail at some points. The whole left side of my face was soon wet and frozen. My left eye was caked in snow and I could feel my eyelashes frozen together. But I didn’t care. I loved every minute of it. I loved the knowledge that Eric and Fozzie and I were walking through this storm together. It felt like we were explorers, like Lewis and Clark or maybe Ernest Shackleton, and we were marching toward new lands and new heights.

“There’s gold up in them thar hills!” I said into the wind at one point. I know, dork. I had heard it in one of those films they make you watch in history class. It made Phoebe laugh whenever I said it.

I didn’t count on Eric hearing me, to be honest. But then he called back, “By Jove, we’ll find it. Even if we have to die tryin’!” and then we both laughed, even though that meant swallowing a bunch of wet snow.

By the time we got back to the inn, the sky was a deep plum color and there were thick piles of snow against the back door, draped over the lamps, the porch, the eaves.

“Where were you?” Martha cried, taking Eric’s face in her hands. “We were so worried about you! Come here! Come here!” She helped us peel off our jackets and we went into a small pantry, where we could leave our drenched boots and scarves, hats, and mittens. Then Martha gave us fluffy blue towels to help us dry off. Luis toweled off Fozzie, pulling clumps of ice out of his paws.

“Your father called from Burlington. He said he was going to stay put until the storm died down a little,” Martha told Eric. Then she turned to me. “And your father called to say they were at the chalet eating French fries, waiting for the plows to come through. I didn’t tell either of them that I thought you got buried by an avalanche. Look at you! You must be freezing! Can I make you something to eat? I bet you’re starving. What if we pull out some of these new groceries and make a picnic here in the kitchen?”

“Sounds good,” said Eric. “We’ll help.”