Winter Passing Read Online Free Page A

behind Darby’s ears, just as she’d done for years. That touch and the excited light in her grandmother’s eyes caressed Darby’s entire being.
    “You remember it was that same hiking club from San Francisco? They told me the photographs have been all the rage in the office of the hiking club’s president. He’s the CEO of a San Francisco insurance company and a hiker in his spare time.”
    “Is he married?”
    “Yes, Grandma. His wife came along and is a wonderful lady. I’ve told you, the good ones are taken.”
    “Oh no. Your man’s out there waiting. He’s a nice fellow, too. I pray for him all the time. He’s sick of you hiding beneath your work and ready for you to meet him.”
    “And who is this man?” Darby tapped her finger against her cheek.
    “I’m not certain. But I know he’s out there.”
    “Anyway, let’s stick with my story. The club wanted more photos this year and chose a more adventurous expedition with eight days and a forty-mile trip with some face climbing. It’s a good thing I joined the gym over the summer. The elevation is over eleven thousand feet.” Seeing her grandmother’s smile, Darby tried to conjure up the vivid storytelling that her grandmother always used. “The best part of this trip was this one total city boy.”
    “This isn’t the CEO guy?”
    “No. This guy is in insurance also, but you could tell he only did the trip to get some photos in his office. He wanted me to take his picture like he was hanging from a rock when really his feet were on the ground!”
    Grandma’s laughter brought a smile to Darby’s own face. She felt like a little girl, telling her grandmother about her day’s woes or adventures. After she told her story, Grandma always had a similar tale or story of encouragement. Darby remembered being more enthralled with these stories than with her favorite television shows like Scooby-Doo or The Bloodhound Gang . Nothing compared to Grandma’s vivid tales of the Austrian Alps. Those mountain tellings had bred Darby’s own love for the wilderness and a desire to see the towering peaks of her grandmother’s childhood. Darby had never made it to Europe, probably never would, but the scent of pines and the crisp mountain air tugged at something within her. It was a feeling she could never quite explain—because of the stories. Grandma’s stories lived within Darby now. Yet in all those countless tales, Grandma Celia had never mentioned the name Tatianna.
    “Oh, I wish I could have been there!” Grandma’s laughter broke into a low, rasping cough. “I’d—have pulled a few pranks on that city fella!”
    “Well, just wait till you hear the rest!” Darby continued with a chuckle. She ignored her grandmother’s condition and pretended she was telling just another story on just another day. “We reached the crest of Siligo Peak, overlooking Deer Creek Canyon hundreds of feet below, when something catches my eye.”
    “City Boy?”
    “Yes! He’s clinging to this rock, scared to death, with his eyes shut! So, since I was assigned to take pictures . . .”
    “Oh, you naughty, naughty girl! Did he even know you took pictures of him?”
    “Oh, yes! He heard the camera clicking and opened one eye. Then he starts yelling at me to stop. Of course, I didn’t. For the rest of the trip, this guy was begging to buy that roll of film from me.”
    “I’ve never been so proud of you!” Although Grandma’s tone was light, her eyes appeared glassy, and Darby wondered if it was from the laughter or the coughing.
    She continued to describe her trip but noticed her grandmother’s eyes blinking heavily. Grandma sagged back against her pillow and squirmed deeper under the covers.
    “Well, I can see my stories just don’t hold your interest anymore.”
    “It’s this horrible medication. I can’t stay awake for long with it, but it pains me too much to live without it. We have a real love—” Grandma burst into another coughing fit—“hate