Towering

person.
    The only thing Wyatt had not brought was warm shoes. But I ignored my frozen feet as I pushed through the snowy tree limbs, then held them for him.
    As he clambered through, one branch slipped from my grip. It sprung back, hitting him in the face and sending a pile of snow onto him as well. “Oh, sorry.”
    “You did that on purpose!” But he was laughing.
    “No, I didn’t!”
    “Okay. Just let me hold the next one for you.”
    “Not a chance.” I ran as fast as I could toward it. Which wasn’t very fast because of the snow. I had never walked in anything like it before. At least, that I remembered. The snow was white and sparkly with a hard crust on top. But when you stepped on it, your foot sank down, down, and you had to lift it high to get out. Wyatt was gaining on me.
    He grabbed me. “Let me go first, actually. Not very gentlemanly to make you do all the pushing.”
    “You just want to get back at me.” I struggled against him, and then, I reached the tree.
    “Maybe,” he said.
    I pulled up a huge, snow-covered branch, held it back, and then, again, flung it in his face. “Gotcha!”
    Even though that time, he must have known it was coming, he didn’t duck. He let it hit him full in the face. “You think you’re so funny!”
    I laughed. “I’m hilarious.”
    He started to run fast, overtaking me. He reached the last tree. I hung back.
    He pulled back the branch. “Come on, Rachel.” His voice was low, enticing.
    “Sweet Rachel. I’ll hold it for you. I won’t throw snow in your face. I’m the bigger person.”
    “I’ll bet.” He was holding the branch so a huge pile of snow was aimed at me.
    “Okay, then. Take your punishment. Admit you lost.”
    I sighed. “I suppose I have to. You’re more powerful than poor little me.” In a way, I wanted to feel it, all that snow against my face.
    I stepped toward it, closing my eyes. But he didn’t release it. He let me in.
    We had reached the clearing. The sun had risen, and the snow sparkled with a white glow that had every color of the rainbow. I jumped up and down and into his arms. “We made it! We’re here! Isn’t this the perfect place to make an angel?”
    “Do you know how to make one?” he asked.
    “You’ll show me.”
    He smiled. “The trick is getting up and down without making footprints in the angel. You have to fall back flat. I’ll show you.” He broke away from me and walked a few steps to a clear area, away from the trees. He stood straight and just fell. Then, he flapped his arms and legs like scissors until an angel appeared.
    “Now, help me up,” he said.
    “How?”
    “Careful. Just stay off to the side. Help me balance.”
    I did what he said, and he was able to rise, only stepping in the tiny spot below the angel’s “skirt,” where her feet would be. Then, he backed away.
    It really did look like a real angel, with full skirt and spreading wings. What a wondrous accomplishment! Suddenly, the cold in my feet, on my face, felt like a gift.
    “I want to make one,” I said. I ran over to the other side of his, where the snow was white and unspoiled. I stood, smelling the air, the moment, so that I might never forget it, no matter what else happened. I knew that smells brought memories, but I’d had precious little to remember before now. How amazing, when you thought of it, that most of my life had been spent reading, waiting for Mama to come. Only now was I living.
    “Go ahead,” Wyatt said. “It’s soft.”
    “I know.” My voice was a whisper. I held my arms out, wavered, then fell. The snow caught me. I lay there a moment, letting it hug me. Then, I remembered what Wyatt had done and flapped my arms and legs as hard as I could.
    “Did I do it right?” I asked.
    “Absolutely.” He was beside me now, holding out his hand.
    I reached up and took it, feeling the connection between us like a shock of electricity. Then, I rose slowly, careful only to step where the angels’ shoes would be. I stepped back.
    My angel was enchanting, perfect in the morning light. I almost thought she would take flight. I couldn’t believe I was here, part of this strange, wonderful world I’d only read about in books. I stared at Wyatt. He was so beautiful.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    “For what?”
    “For bringing me here.”
    He shrugged. “You brought yourself.”
    I made three more, barely noticing the cold, but finally, Wyatt said, “Let me make another.”
    I stepped back, so he could do it.