She grabbed a large tote bag from the closet and hurried back to the art room. She selected the only finished canvases she hadn’t taken to her classroom and nestled them into the bag between pieces of cardboard. Then she grabbed her portfolio and a few of her favorite art books. Anything to make Carmen smile.
Then Riley dashed out to the car.
Mark had parked among a few other vehicles and hiked up the groomed trail. The volunteers for the Washington State Trails Association didn’t clear it much beyond the bridge this time of year, so he’d gone as far as he could and brushed snow off a boulder. Taking a seat, he looked back down at the bridge through the trees, squinting as the sun reflected off the snow. He was grateful to have this spot to himself.
The creek rushed by as he stared at the red beams. Last time he’d been here was with Riley. The thought of that day pulled at him, and he felt the warmth in his face even as his gut knotted.
This is so stupid.
He’d done his best to keep his head down and work. No more episodes. He’d left the numbers for a plumber and a window guy on Riley’s kitchen table, along with her house key. Wasn’t much more he could help her with until the weather warmed up. He didn’t even know how much more work she wanted done on the house before she planned to put it up for sale.
He pulled in a deep breath, thinking of the time they’d spent on that house together. The time they’d spent in it together. But this had been her plan all along. To fix it up and leave. She’d warned him over and over. He just hadn’t wanted to see it.
That morning he’d made the mistake of wandering up to his mom’s attic studio. The bright winter sun had lit up the workspace. Taking in his mom’s easel and desk and unused art tools, he couldn’t help thinking of how dark and cramped Riley’s art room was at her place, and how easy it was to picture her up there in her element. He’d almost offered the attic to her the first time he’d taken her up there. But he’d stopped himself, because he’d barely known her, and it wasn’t his to offer.
When he’d gone back downstairs, he’d paused in the dining room, staring at the painting of Miracle Creek Bridge, hit with the overwhelming need to come up here. To make his wish.
His dad had caught him staring at the painting. “Thinking about doing something crazy?”
“I tried to get her to stay, Dad. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve got no other choice.”
Mark looked at him. “I’m not going to make a wish.”
His dad patted his arm. “You’ve got a couple hours before you go see Carmen. Couldn’t hurt to get up there and think awhile. Let that mountain air clear your head.”
So here he was, head as clear as October fog.
Mom, tell me this is stupid. I’ll go home right now.
He waited. Nothing.
What was he supposed to wish for? For Riley to change her mind? For her to stay when New Orleans had so much to offer her? And what then? She’d changed her mind about him. And the way her parents had looked at him? He’d nearly forgotten those kinds of looks.
You could wish for sunsets for the rest of your life and you’d have them. But what if I wished we were stuck here forever?
He tried to lose himself in the surrounding beauty, the snow-brushed evergreens and the sound of the icy creek, the view descending toward town. It was all home to him. And he hated that he couldn’t make it Riley’s. She’d seen him, but no future with him.
After a while the sound of cars pulling out of the gravel lot drew his attention. The tourists had left, and he’d have the bridge to himself if no one else showed up.
He stood and willed his boots to take him back down the trail. Too soon they made a hollow thump as he walked over the bridge beneath the red-beamed roof. He stopped at the railing, watching the water gurgle toward him before it headed under the bridge and down the mountain. Snow still mounded boulders here and there in the water and along the edges, but the sun had melted most of the snow on the bridge.
With the way things had ended, the last thing he wanted was to be stuck here forever with Riley Madigan.
So why are you here?
He shook his head. If he was honest with himself, he knew exactly what he’d wish for. He’d wish for Riley to want him.
To love him.
But everything about that seemed wrong. To wish her to bend to his wants—his needs? No. All he’d wanted from the start was to make her smile. To bring light to her moss-green eyes. To hear her laugh even during her worst time of the year.
I wish for Riley to find peace at Christmas.
The wish broke out of his thoughts like a fortune out of a cookie.
Really? Peace at Christmas? It was like he’d sent up a generic Christmas card to the powers that be. Happy Holidays, from Mark.
Mark turned away from the railing and walked to the opposite side as if watching the water flow away from him would bring him some sense of reality. Would empty him of this nonsense. Because really, what was the worst that could happen?
He knew exactly what could happen. His mom had spelled it out for him all those years ago.
Endless torment.
Like he wasn’t already there.
But at the same time, no other wish came to mind. No other idea tried to replace his one wish.
God, if you can hear me, just let her find peace.
Riley tied the front of her gown and hoisted
