It was Red Rock Canyon. One of the most beautiful places in Waterton... in the Rockies, for that matter. And it was there, waiting for him to find it. As long as he was willing to look for it.

She lifted her head in surprise, following his line of sight above the tree line. Beyond the distant peaks, a green and blue symphony of lights had begun. It rippled and shimmered like sunshine on water, leaving Rich blinking back tears. He'd read something about this but had never seen it before.“It's the aurora borealis,” Lou said quietly. “Northern lights.

Still he drove. Through rainstorms, and down windswept slopes, across the narrow fruit-bearing valleys and the hidden, secret mountain paths where the rusted carcasses of abandoned cars appeared at the bottom of deep ravines. West. West… the thought spurred him forward.

It was almost nightfall when Lou reached the outskirts of Lethbridge. Dark blue skies backdropped golden coulees and shadows of buildings stretched across roads in long, undulating bands.

A peeling sign appeared from behind an untrimmed hedge. Bertha Mountain Bed and Breakfast. The cross-timbered cabin had a quaint, storybook quality, with overhanging eaves and deeply recessed windows. Like the rest of the town, it was a place out of time, a half-step behind the busy pace of the world.

Over the slow pass of winters and summers, Amanda had grown to understand the cycles that made up small-town life. She knew that fewer tourists meant easier work for the staff, but fewer tips for the servers, and less chance of picking up extra hours. A busy summer kept everyone hopping and the tills full, but it also shifted the steady pace of life, tugging it into a frenetic rate.

Lou stood at the kitchen sink, her eyes unfocused on her hazy reflection in the window. Outside the sky was fading from steely blue to indigo. The mountain range beyond was a solid sheet of black, cut out by a child's sloppy scissors.

For a long time, they sat without speaking. The air outside was filled with the lilting sound of sparrows, the buzz of traffic on Main Street, and under that the faint lapping of waves on the lakeshore. Lou smiled. It wasn't the same, but it was better.And better, Lou thought, is a start.

Prairie flatness gave way to a shocking thrust of ragged peaks, the town site nestled in the crook of the mountain’s arm.

He opened his mouth and closed it again. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but Alistair knew that he couldn’t. He could remember her. He could remember this: the two of them standing side by side. Only it wasn’t this moment, but another, centuries before. Two sides of the same coin. It made him want to shout in excitement; it made him want to hide in shame. She doesn’t remember.