The old wooden sled felt strange in Patricia's hands after so many years. Twelve years, where had the time gone.
She shouldn't have come to Larkin Hill. The sledding spot sat just outside town, far from her parents' inn where she was supposed to be helping with the holiday rush. But nostalgia had pulled her here on this crisp December afternoon.
Patricia climbed to the top, her boots crunching in the snow. The hill looked smaller than she remembered, though the view of Pine Valley below still took her breath away. This was where she'd said goodbye to Jake, both of them eighteen and full of dreams.
“Ten years,” he'd said, holding both her hands. “Meet me right here. If we're meant to be, we'll find our way back.”
She'd nodded, certain then. Columbia had offered her a full scholarship. It was everything she'd worked for. Jake had also found a full ride but in another state. He was going to be a vet and she, an executive.
Patricia positioned the sled at the top, ready to push off, when she heard it: another sled swooshing right behind her. She turned just as—
CRASH.
They collided in a tangle of limbs, scarves, and spinning sleds. Patricia tumbled sideways into a snowbank, breathless and disoriented.
“I'm so sorry, I didn't see …Patricia?”
That voice.
She looked up into familiar green eyes, now framed by laugh lines that hadn't been there before. Jake knelt in the snow beside her, snowflakes caught in his dark hair.
“Jake!”
“You're here.” He said it with such wonder that her heart cracked. “You came back.”
She nodded. She was back but just for the Holidays.
Jake stood, offering his hand. She took it, and the warmth of his grip through their gloves felt like coming home.
“How long are you here for?” he asked.
“Two weeks. Maybe three.”
Something flickered across his face, hope, then hesitation. “You've been back before?”
Patricia shook her head. “No. I meant to, but work always…”
“Twelve years, Pat.”
“I know.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I know I'm late.”
“Late,” he repeated, then laughed. “God, I waited here every January tenth for years. Even after I figured you weren't coming.”
While she'd been climbing corporate ladders in New York, he'd been here. Waiting.
“Jake, I'm so…”
“Are you happy?” he interrupted. “In the city? Is it everything you wanted?”
Patricia opened her mouth to say yes, to defend the life she'd built. But standing here, snow melting into her coat, looking at the man who'd loved her enough to wait, the truth tumbled out.
“I don't know anymore.”
Jake stepped closer. “I'm the town vet. My parents retired and moved to Florida. They left me their house on Maple Street. I still come to this hill every winter.” He paused. “Still think about that promise we made.”
“You should have moved on,” Patricia whispered.
“I did move on. I dated. I lived my life.” His gloved hand reached up, brushing snow from her hair. “But I never stopped hoping that maybe, someday, you'd remember too.”
“I never forgot.” The words broke free. “Not once. I just convinced myself it was a silly teenage dream. That you'd have forgotten. That too much time had passed.”
“Pat.” Jake's voice was soft but firm.
She looked at the valley below, the town where she'd grown up, the life she'd left behind. Then back at Jake.
“Do you think some promises matter more than time?” she asked.
Jake's smile started slow, then spread wide. “I think so.”
“I don't know how long I can stay,” Patricia warned.
“How about we start with right now?” Jake retrieved both sleds from the snow. “Race you down? Winner buys hot chocolate?”
Patricia laughed. “You're on!”
They lined up at the top, side by side this time. As Patricia settled onto her sled, Jake caught her hand.
“Pat? I'm really glad you crashed into me.”
She squeezed back. “Best collision of my life.”
They pushed off together, flying down Larkin Hill with the wind in their faces and laughter trailing behind them. At the bottom, breathless and grinning, Patricia knew she had more than two weeks of decisions ahead.
But watching Jake brush snow from his jacket, his eyes never leaving hers, she also knew one thing: some promises were worth being late for. Some people were worth coming home to.
“Hot chocolate's on me,” she said wondering of she wouldn’t need to make a phone call about extending her stay.
His smile was answer enough.
Sledding Hill Collision
