Falling (8 page)

DANA

Rory and the “J” Boys.

When I check email after stuffing myself with nachos, and actually getting Jason to laugh twice during our conversation last night, I finally have something from the guys working on my house. The kitchen should be done in days. After I click out of email I look over my desktop and see a file called Jason’s writing. I can’t believe I forgot about that. Craig has taken me over more than I want to admit. Anyway, it was hard getting this file from Jason’s computer so I have to check it out. I open it and scroll through the contents, then click on one that says – MARCO POLO – complete.

I start to read. It’s good. It’s like a hip Indiana Jones kind of book. More like
National Treasure
but set in Spain. I’m completely lost in the story and before I know it, it’s midnight. I’m in shock that Jason wrote something like this. I turn off my computer, and lay on my back in the dark, thinking about the story. I want to know how this guy is going to escape. I need to know if he finds the girl he’d rescued—the one with the crazy red hair. I’m awake for long enough that I contemplate turning my computer back on, but I don’t. I shuffle around until I find a comfortable spot for my ribs and go to sleep.

Snow falls all night. In the morning I come downstairs and the sun has turned everything I can see into some magical looking winter wonderland. I’m officially in the cabin from the snow globe I had as a kid, and instead of feeling alone in this vast wilderness, an overwhelming sense of home floods me.

The familiar smell of coffee helps me relax as I sit at my favorite table to enjoy the view. The white, blanketed valley spreads out below and the hills disappear slowly off in the distance. I immediately want to get my camera.

Jason stumbles out of his apartment, rubbing his eyes.

“Wow. Does this just take your breath away?” I ask.

His eyes are still half-closed as he reaches around in a cabinet for a mug.

I start to tell him how much I love his book, but then remember that I don’t have permission to be reading it and stop myself. There’s a twinge of guilt for stealing it, but it’s a good read. And anyway, he wasn’t being all that nice at the time. I’m also curious to see if Jason and I are talking now.

“Gets me every time.” He smiles, his eyes still only half open.
After his
first sip he starts to look human again. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Suddenly the peaceful landscape doesn’t look so peaceful. Riding behind Craig and looking at the snow from inside the lodge is one thing—driving a machine is another.

He must sense my hesitation and sits across from me.
At the same table.
Guess whatever sort of truce we came to yesterday is still in effect.

“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” He sits across from me and takes another long drink.

“Yeah.” I smile. The last time had been a while ago. That was my one attempt at dating a bad boy. It’s kind of funny now, he really wasn’t that bad. He was a spoiled kid who got good grades and spent all his allowance on trying to play the part of a bad ass.

I decided after six years at Northwestern that the most dangerous ones were the boys who looked exactly like what you should bring home to meet the parents. Those boys thought they could take whatever they wanted. A pang hits my chest as Clive’s face comes up. I wonder when the awful used feeling that comes with remembering him will go away. If ever.

“You still here, Dana? Or did my question take you somewhere else?” He’s not annoyed. He’s smiling. Guess we’re talking and might be something like friends. That simple realization makes me know how hard it’s been to have him so disapproving.

“Somewhere else,” I answer honestly.

“When you get on the machine, think of it like a motorcycle, especially on a day like today. The snow is deep. There are no tracks out there, which means this weekend is going to be insane, so it’s best if we
ride
while we can.” He
plays
with the ends of his beard, and I really wish I could hack it all off.

“Okay.” I’m still a little uncertain about the snowmachines, but I’m learning that Jason is someone I can trust—at least I know where I stand with him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you the nice machine, and you can lead. I’ll be able to find our way back.”

I can do this, right? “Yeah, I… Okay.” Better than sitting around in the lodge for another day of near quiet.

I have a leg on either side of the snowmachine seat, and I’m feeling weird about sitting down, but do anyway. Okay. Sort of like a motorcycle, but a lot wider, and on the snow. I can do this. I think.

“This was supposed to be my wife’s. It’s practically brand new. The snow’s deep so you’ll have to stand up to turn. Just play around with it. This is supposed to be fun.” He reaches into his pocket. “I also have music for you.”

“Music?”

“Yeah. To help you channel your best badass self. It’ll help. Trust me.” He nods as I take the iPod from him.

I raise an eyebrow as I sling my large camera over my shoulder.

“What’s that?” He points to my bag.

“Camera.”

His head tilts to the side. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

I shrug. I don’t do it much, and I generally don’t take pictures in front of people I know. It’s my creative outlet. Private.

He nods once, which I’m learning is a Jason thing, and then gestures toward me. “Headphones, helmet, and I’ll start you up.”

“Okay.” I’m smiling now, and it’s real and feels amazing. The theme song from
The Bourne Identity
comes on, and I grin wider. Helmet’s on. Machine is on. I’m ready.

Jason gives me a thumbs-up and even though I feel like a total dork doing it, I give him one back.

I grasp the handlebars, and my thumb squeezes the gas, rocketing me down the hill. The speed is exhilarating—especially now that I’m in control and not riding behind anyone. I stand up like Jason said to do and just drive. I go as fast or as slow as I want to, and every time I shift my weight, even a little, the machine responds and lifts up on one side or the other, turning slightly.

Even after thirty minutes or so of riding, I’ve seen no one else. The snow is gleaming white and sparkling in every direction. Each branch on each tree is weighed down and covered, but the open areas are much wider than the small spots of trees. 

I decide that the machine feels almost like riding a jet ski, but softer like I’m driving over pillows or clouds. The feeling is like nothing I’ve done, and I start to get why all these people drive so far to ride for the weekends.

I start to get a little braver and use my weight to tilt the machine up on its side. Snow flies out behind me.  Even
I
know from on top of the machine it looks cool. I start swinging the machine back and forth, spraying snow out in alternating directions. The farther I lean, the higher the snow flies and the more exciting it is. James Bond is playing in the background now. Jason’s right, I do feel like a badass.

I throw my weight again to tilt the snowmachine and give it some gas. It turns faster than I’m expecting, and I fall off into the snow. The snow is soft and deep and my landing is nothing. The machine rights itself and stops about ten feet away from where I landed. I start to get up and realize I’m tired and sweating, and ten feet in deep snow is a long ways to walk. Jason stops next to my machine, turns them both off and takes off his helmet.

“You’re really good.” He smiles at me appreciatively. “I’m exhausted.” He wipes his forehead with the back of his glove.

“Must be the music.” I laugh, feeling better and more relaxed than I have since... well, sometime before my accident. I take off my helmet. Walking in this stuff is no easy task, and breathing hard inside a facemask isn’t fun.

“This is great, isn’t it?”

“Incredible,” I agree. The field we’re in looks like it stretches for miles—small pine trees dot the white snow, and I can’t imagine knowing your way around here as well as Jason seems to.

“Want a snack?” He starts digging in the millions of pockets on his bright orange coat. “You have to be tired.”

“Yeah, this is more of a workout than I guessed. I thought I’d just sit there and get cold, but I’m sweating under here.” I unzip my coat and turn off the music. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem.” He pulls off his backpack and pours us both some coffee from his thermos. “You can’t be out in a place like this and not be part of the best side of it. The lodge is the work side. This is the play side.”

I pull out my camera, and take a few shots of the snow-covered machines and few of Jason. He
is
the owner of the lodge. His shaggy beard has chunks of snow in it and his hair is a complete mess from his helmet, but he’s smiling and exudes happiness.

I lie in the snow on my stomach and take pictures of Denali. I was corrected right away when I first moved up. No one up here calls the mountain Mt. McKinley—that’s a President. It’s clear blue skies and white everywhere I look. I hope there’s enough contrast for my pictures to turn out well.

Jason tosses me a Snickers bar, and three machines appear over the edge of the hill. I wonder who is way out here in the middle of the week.

“Oh. Great.” Jason smiles. “You’ll like these guys. Well, maybe.”

“Jason!”

“Hey!” Jason waves as they turn off machines. “James and Josh,” he says as he points. “How are you guys?”

“Great. You two were easy to find.” Josh laughs.

“Yeah, I guess we were.” Jason chuckles.

Our tracks are the only two tracks in the snow, well, until they showed up. “Dana, this is James and Josh, my brothers, and that’s Rory, also kind of my brother.”

“Kind of a brother?” I ask.

He laughs. His dark hair is cut military short. He’s shorter than Jason and strong. “Yeah. I’m the cousin.”

The guys banter a bit, and Jason laughs over and over. I had no idea he had so much good mood in him. And now I’m wondering how I’m going to keep them all straight.

“So, you three are J names.” I glance between the brothers.

“She’s smart, too.” Rory laughs.

I throw him a look in response.

“And you’re the hot girl everyone’s been talking about,” Josh says. He’s shaggy like Jason, but his hair is a startling color of red. He has the same laughing eyes though. Well. When Jason bothers to laugh.

“Might be.” I nod.

“Oh no, you definitely are
.
”
Rory wags his brows
.

“
Who’s
talking?” Jason asks
, scowling.

“Everyone who’s been up here since your sister left, and Dana took her place.” Josh laughs.

“Great.” Only it doesn’t sound like Jason thinks it’s great.

“Hey man, if it brings in the business…” Rory smiles and wags his brows at me.
Again.

“I’m
right
here
,” I say.

“Sorry.” James glances my way. He too looks a lot like Jason—again, minus the shaggy beard. I find it funny he apologized since he’s the only one who hasn’t said anything.

“So, how do you like hanging out with the Governor’s kids?” Rory asks.

“What?” I’m confused.

Jason’s shaking his head, red with embarrassment.

“You don’t know?” Josh laughs. “Our dad is the Governor.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I
stare
at Jason.

He shrugs. “Never came up.”

Right
.

“Why did
you
say something?” I look at Rory.

“Because I like to embarrass Jason.” He laughs and punches Jason on the shoulder. I like how they are together—friendly and relaxed.

“So are there many more of you?” I ask.

“What?”
Jason turns to look at me.

“Well, there’s you, Justine, Josh, James and kind of Rory—do I have that right?”

“That’s all of us.” He looks around at his brothers smiling. “Rory’s our cousin, but he’s lived with us since…forever.”

I’m curious as to how old they are, but I’m sure I wouldn’t remember if I asked. We all sit in silence for a few moments, taking each other in.

“Why don’t you guys ride around? I’d like to take some pictures. You know, action shots.” I figure that’s enough to get them riding well.

“Awesome!” Rory throws on his helmet, and is off in a shot.

I realize as they begin riding in circles around me, throwing snow up in all directions that I’ve probably just started some sort of juvenile male game where they all make asses of themselves trying to outdo one another. That’s okay. It should at least make for some interesting pictures.

I don’t need to move much because they’re really good and keep driving toward me. They’re up on one ski, they’re spinning their machines around in the deep snow and even on the small screen on the back of my camera I can tell I have some great shots. I can’t believe the dexterity it takes to ride like this.