“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?”