Eight Years Old

The beam of my flashlight dances wildly through the dark, guiding my best friend, Gunnar, and me down the long, beaten path toward Heart Mountain.

A storm rages above us, the heavy rain making it hard to see. It runs off my new pink slicker Paw bought me while my matching rubber boots sink into the mud beneath my feet.

A pang of guilt strikes me at the thought of my grandfather. He would be furious if he knew I wasn’t in bed where he left me only a few hours ago. I feel awful for sneaking out like this, but it had to be done. The legend specifically states this has to happen at midnight.

“How much time do we have?” I ask Gunnar, yelling to be heard over the downpour.

He glances at the compass he brought, which also serves as a pocket watch—an item he took from Ryland’s home office, where he keeps all the stuff from when he was in the military. “Fifteen minutes.”

Panic grips my chest, propelling me forward. “Come on, we’re running out of time. We have to hurry.” Holding my hood in place, I run as fast as I can, trying my best not to slip in all the mud.

“Wait up, Ellie,” Gunnar calls out, charging after me.

As soon as those words leave him, I trip over a broken log. My arms flail at my sides as I try to save myself, but there’s nothing to grab onto. I’m just about to fall flat on my face when Gunnar catches me, his arms wrapping securely around my smaller frame.

My frantic heartbeat slows as I peer up into his rain-soaked face, the black hoodie he wears offering little support to keep him dry.

Heavy droplets drip from his shaggy brown hair into his face, clinging to thick, dark lashes that frame his unique honey-brown eyes. Eyes that are usually filled with playfulness and mischief, but now are narrowed in anger.

“You need to be more careful,” he snaps, dragging me upright.

I bristle at his sharp tone, my own eyes narrowing. “It was an accident! You don’t have to shout at me.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t run off like that,” he fires back. “You can’t do that, Ellie. It’s the middle of the night and we’re out in the wilderness. You could get hurt.”

Concern overshadows his anger, making me feel bad. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to miss out on this. Not when we’re so close.”

His expression softens. “I won’t let that happen. I promise.” Taking my hand, he leads us at a fast pace again.

His promise is the very reason I asked him to do this with me. It’s also why he is my very best friend.

The two of us met last year when he moved in with Ryland Brooks, the retired soldier who lives down the street. Like me, Gunnar doesn’t have parents. Mine died in a car accident when I was only five years old, whereas Gunnar’s just didn’t want him anymore, so they left him at a gas station, which is how Mr. Ryland found him.

I don’t know how a parent could abandon their own child like that, especially one like Gunnar. He’s smart, funny, and good at everything he does. He’s also tough. No one messes with Gunnar and gets away with it. I found this out firsthand when Chuck Turner and his pimple-faced brother, Philip, were picking on me one day. Gunnar stepped in and gave them an ass whoopin’ they wouldn’t soon forget.

At that moment, I found my best friend, and we have been inseparable ever since.

Gunnar is a year older than me, but that has never mattered. We love to do a lot of the same things. Play sports, climb trees, and build forts. Pink might be my favorite color, but I am more of a tomboy, which works out pretty well for Gunnar, I guess.

But he will do things I like to do too, even if he doesn’t. Like catching fireflies. We do it in the evenings and bring them back to our fort to use as a nightlight, then we tell ghost stories until it’s time to go to bed. It’s always so much fun and my favorite time we spend together.

A bright light flashes in the distance, pulling me from my thoughts.

“There’s the light post,” Gunnar shouts over his shoulder as I struggle to keep up, despite the hold I have on his hand. “It shouldn’t be much longer now.”

I nod, too out of breath to speak.

Tonight, Gunnar is doing another thing just for me. Helping me put to the test a legend that lives and breathes in my soul. One I pray is true with all my heart.

Nestled in the Canadian Rockies, our small town of Passion Falls holds a landmark that very few know about, Heart Mountain.

The name stems from its unique peak that’s shaped like a heart. With it comes a legend that states at the stroke of midnight, under the light of a full moon, if you share a kiss on the mountain’s ledge, you will be bound to your one true love forever.

It’s a legend that bound my parents together until their untimely death, and my grandparents until the passing of my meemaw.

A lot of people think it’s hokey pokey, including Kevin Parks, who teases me mercifully for it. It’s why I’m here now, to hopefully prove to him and everyone else just how real it is. I figure doing it with Gunnar would be a safe bet because what better person to fall in love with than your best friend?

I’m pretty sure he only agreed to do it because he doesn’t believe in it either. Though, he would never tell me that because he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. He has told me before that he doesn’t believe in true love, but I know it exists. My parents and grandparents are tried-and-true versions of it. Whether the legend of this mountain had anything to do with it, we will soon find out …

After passing the wooden marker that declares we are now on property that belongs to Heart Mountain, Gunnar and I climb up the slippery slope that leads to the base of the mountain.

“Watch your step,” he cautions, keeping a firm hold of my hand.

Once we’re on more solid ground, we stop our climb and tilt our heads back. Rain trickles into our squinting eyes as we take in the heart-shaped peak.

“It’s even more beautiful up close like this,” I comment softly, but loud enough for Gunnar to hear. “Don’t ya think?”

“I guess,” he mutters, not sounding very convincing. “I still think the peak looks more like an upside-down triangle than a heart.”

He has always thought this. I guess I can see why, since it’s not the most perfect shape, but that’s where your faith comes in.

“How much time is left?” I ask.

He looks down at the watch again. “Two minutes.”

My heart pitter-patters in my chest, both in excitement and fear, but it’s the latter that takes over.

Gunnar senses it. “What’s wrong?”

I peer into his honey-brown eyes and tell him a fear I have yet to voice out loud. “What if the legend isn’t true, Gunnar? What if everything my parents and Paw told me turns out to be a myth, just like so many believe?”

He shrugs. “So what? It’s not like it changes anything.”

My mouth drops at the statement. “What the heck are you talking about? It changes everything!”

“How?” he challenges. “You still have your memories of them, Elle. Of how much they loved each other. The truth about some stupid legend doesn’t change that.”

I think about what he says and realize he’s right.

“I guess, but I still want it to be true. I want to believe magic like this exists. I also don’t want Kevin to be right,” I grumble. “He’ll just be even meaner to me.”

“Forget that jerk,” he spits out angrily. “If he says anything to you, I’ll bust his mouth open and make him run home crying to his mommy like the baby he is.”

I smile at the image that pops into my head, then burst into a fit of laughter. It triggers one from Gunnar, the two of us in stitches over the thought.

Leave it to Gunnar to make me laugh, even at a time like this.