Page 16 of Will to Run

“So what did your dad and Hazel mean about the sunrise? Is it really that special?”

“Oh, nothing big, just the entire reason our town is called Amberheart Valley,” he replies with a lopsided grin as he parks the golf cart, drops that bombshell, and hops out.

When we arrive at the house he calls home, I can’t help but glance at him a dozen times. I know they own all this, and it makes sense to have places on the property, but this is… this is a lot. I can see Hazel’s house in the distance, too. The same person must have designed all of them, but each house has its own special flair, and I just can’t get over it.

We walk onto the patio that wraps around the entire house. It’s cozy, inviting, and I could just imagine how much time he spends out here.

I expect to go inside, but instead, he throws some cushions on the chair and tells me to take a seat.

“What do you want in your coffee?” he asks as he’s heading inside.

Coffee? I thought he was just going to change. “Cream and sugar, please,” I respond, trying to remember if Tripp ever brought me coffee. And I thought we were already late for barn chores?

Regardless, I sit and wait patiently to see what happens next. The first signs of light appear as the entire sky washes in a muted lilac, and I watch with anticipation. A few minutes later, Jaxon comes out in work jeans, a jacket, and a winter hat, holding two mugs of coffee; the steam rising into the morning air. Can this man look bad?

“Here you go,” he says with a smile. I take it, grateful, but still not understanding what’s happening. “You’re lucky, Tatroe. You breezed into Amberheart when our little town is in the middle of putting on its yearly show.” Quickly, he jumps to the golf cart to get the blanket and puts it back over my lap before settling next to me. “Each year in April, for about three weeks, the sunrise appears through the heart opening in the breccia cliffs and lights it aglow.”

My head jerks to where he is pointing, and sure enough, there is a silhouette of a heart shape carved out of the cliff that’s now faintly visible in the hint of daylight.

“Wow.” The word slips out.

“Yeah, it’s pretty stunning,” he says.

“I feel like that would be on some top ten list or something,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. Grasping my mug tighter, I marvel at the fact that it’s exactly how I would have made mine.

“Oh, it is. I mean, people come here to see it. We are operating at about half capacity right now because we get an influx for it. It works out well because it becomes our yearly test run for high season.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a lot of surprises out here, Jax?”

“I like to think we’re a pretty open book in these parts,” he smiles and sips his coffee.

When I look back up, the sky is changing with every second. The pinks, pale blues, purples, and peaches are bleeding into each other, and it keeps getting brighter.

“Don’t we have barn chores?” I ask. I don’t want to leave, but I also don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t do what he’s supposed to.

“Eventually, yeah. The sun will poke through in less than thirty minutes, and conditions are perfect. Plus, this is smack in the middle of the three weeks, which means it’s going to rise right at the bottom tip of the heart. We’re going to ride this one out.”

“You don’t have to do that, Jax. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“Trouble is my middle name, Tatroe. Besides, I’m excited to show you this. It’s extraordinary.”

The two of us sit nestled in our respective chairs. The steam on my breath would be easy to blame on the cold morning air, but I really think it’s because I’m warm from the inside out. Jax asks me some questions, and I do the same to him; but we are mostly wasting our morning away in the best way possible. Beth and Dale have the right idea.

I pull out my phone and start snapping photos as everything changes, but realize it’s stupid because nothing ever looks as good as it does in person. So I put it away and decide to enjoy the moment.

Soon after, a gold color becomes increasingly prominent at the bottom point, right before it turns to fire. When the sun breaks free, sunbeams explode all around. True to what Jaxon said, the light spills over and kisses the valley. I can’t help but pull out my phone and try to capture it again.

We don’t exchange words, just watch nature in all her glory. From that point, it happens fast, and the sun continues to move up in the heart. I can no longer stare because I don’t want to go blind, but it lights everything up in the most perfect of ways. Part of my heart cries out that maybe this is symbolic of me… maybe it’s my sunrise moment, too.

“Amberheart Valley earns her name,” I whisper. “This is extraordinary.”

“It’s not too shabby,” he smiles. “I’m glad you got to see this, Della, and I’m going to take it as a sign of good things to come for you.”

It’s as if the man next to me just read my mind. He owes me nothing. Not a place to stay, kind words, flirty smiles, nothing. And yet, he’s giving without question. I take another sip of my coffee and take in everything in front of me.

“Alright, it’s time for me to get to the barn. You are welcome to come help or just drop me off and head back to your cabin.”

“I’ll come,” I say, probably too quickly. I’m still not ready to part ways with Jaxon Wills, and at that, I realize I might be tipping into one-sided trauma bond territory. “Thank you for taking the time to share that with me, Jaxon.”