"Hello! Welcome to Eagle Canyon's Christmas Lights Tour."

My smile has been permanently pasted on for the past three hours, accompanied by my sugar-coated holiday voice. I greet the remainder of the passengers piling onto our tour trolley. I'm thankful that my four-hour shift will be finished after this tour around the small village of Eagle Canyon. The tour lasts a good 30 to 40 minutes, even though you can drive from one end of Eagle Canyon to the other in less than a minute.

I am about to close the doors when I notice a tall young man standing at the bottom of the steps. He is cautiously eying the first gigantic step up onto trolley. Inside my head, I impatiently urge him to hurry. A moment later, however, I notice his two forearm crutches and the fact that he is slowly realizing he can't get himself onto the trolley. Well, not gracefully anyway. He stumbles back, gives me a small half smile and says, "It's fine, just go ahead without me." Did I detect a hint of an accent?

"No!" I quickly reply. "If you head to the middle of the trolley, Sam can lower the wheelchair ramp for you." Besides, I continue in my mind, you're really cute.

He looks up at me with the most breathtaking eyes I've ever seen. "Thanks," he says quietly.

Did he just  wink at me?

He makes his way to the lift and Sam swiftly brings him up to the level of the trolley. Once he arrives on the main deck, I wave him up to the one remaining seat, directly in front of me. Again, I'm greeted with his jade green eyes and that adorable half smile. I give him another small smile of my own and launch into my tour narration.

"Good evening, folks. I'm Katherine, your tour guide for this cold and windy Eagle Canyon night. Sam and I will be taking you for a ride around our fabulous little town. You'll see the main shopping district, the museum, the myriads of Christmas lights, the Canyon River Bridge, and of course, Eagle Canyon Sound, which boasts the highest bluff in Michigan."

And that's about all that Eagle Canyon can really boast about, a high cliff and a spectacular view. Canyon River Bridge is somewhat impressive as well, all 500 feet of it. It spans the "canyon" created by the river as it flows out to Lake Superior. It's not quite as high as the Cut River Bridge in the Eastern Upper Peninsula, but at 135 feet above the river, it's still a fairly remarkable structure.

Oddly enough, Eagle Canyon has become a tourist hot spot over the past twenty years. Sam Calkins likes to think it's all because of his trolley tours, but it's more likely that, in addition to some of the best snorkeling in Lake Superior, Eagle Canyon offers proximity to the Porcupine Mountains, Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore and the best ski hills in the region. Apparently, there are enough diversions to attract a steady stream of tourists from May to September, and again for the months of November and December. During those months, Eagle Canyon becomes a thriving tourist destination. Occasionally, we'll see an influx of skiers in January and February, depending on the snowpack. In the off-season, however, we are just another small town of a few thousand people.

The trolley lurches forward and I have a few moments to spare before the first point of interest. I look around at the crowd and scan the demographics. It's the usual: families with small children bundled up to their eyeballs, holding steaming cups of hot cocoa, old couples snuggling up together, and even a few foreign tourists with gigantic cameras. But my eyes land on the guy with the crutches and the soft green eyes right in front of me. Not only does he have marvelous, full eyelashes, but his hair is thick and wavy with a few stray curls at the top, and it's the most alluring brown I've ever seen. The word brown doesn't even do it justice. It's like a creamy dark chocolate or a shiny mahogany. Can you compare hair to a type of wood?

I wonder why he's all by himself. I occasionally see a loner, but he's a young guy, and I know he doesn't go to our little community college. So that means he's visiting, and I can't imagine that he would be traveling by himself. I continue to contemplate who he is and where he came from. He turns to catch me staring, which I don't even realize I'm doing.

Thankfully, the first point of interest comes into view. I start with a bit of a tremble in my voice as I shake off my embarrassment, "If you look to your right, you will see Eagle Canyon Sound. Cartier Lighthouse guards the entrance to the sound. It is occupied year-round by the Cartier family, whose roots go back to the original French settlers who moved into this area. The scenic inlet of water is surrounded by some of the highest cliffs in Michigan. At over two hundred feet high, that last bluff on the end is the highest cliff in Michigan. As you look along the bluffs, you probably already noticed Eagle Canyon's annual Christmas lights display."

I hear a collective gasp as everyone admires the handiwork of Eagle Canyon's finest. The display is pretty impressive. There are about ten children created out of timed LED lights, with sections of the lights flashing to make it look like the kids are moving. Above them, about 15 delicate, blinking snowflakes seem to drift down as the kids play in the snow. But the most impressive portion of the display is the child who seems to be sledding down the side of the bluff on his toboggan.

While everyone else is staring at the lights, I risk another glance at him. As I'm marveling once again at his gorgeous hair, he catches me staring, again. He gives me another half smile with a dimple that I want to crawl into and take a nap.

I manage to finish the tour with no other gawking incidents. Once everyone is deposited back at the city park, I gather my things and get ready to go home. I hop off the bottom step of the trolley. The mystery guy is standing with his phone in his hand, next to the Coke machine at the small trolley staging area, which is also the gift shop, the bait shop, and a concession stand during peak tourist months.

"Hey!" I smile. "Do you need a ride somewhere? I can give you a lift."

"No, thanks," he speaks quietly. "My sister is coming to pick me up when she and her husband are done with dinner." Just then his phone rings and I hear a woman's voice from the other end saying, "Dinner was very late. Can you walk here to meet us? We're at the Westchester Restaurant and Ballroom."

Feeling a little awkward about having overheard their conversation, but knowing the Westchester is over two miles down the road, I decide to interject in a loud whisper, "It's too far to walk."

He cuts his sister off and says, "There's a girl here. Says she can give me a ride."

Once again, I feel like I'm eavesdropping when I hear his sister practically squeal, "A girl? Okay, honey, see you..." He hangs up the phone before his sister can even finish, and he hastily shoves the phone back in his pocket.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Katherine," he finishes.

"Oh, right. You remember from the tour. But you can call me Kate."

"Hi, Kate. Harry," He says. "Harry Styles." He half-smiles and takes my outstretched hand. "So, is it really too far to walk, or did you just think it was too far for me?"

I shake my head and narrow my eyes, "What?"

"Can a normal person walk from here to the Westchester? Do you think I can't do it just because I have these?" He picks up one of his crutches and waves it dramatically. I can tell he's not really offended, but trying to make light of the obvious.

"No!" I say somewhat sharply. "It is on this road, but it's over two miles away, it's dark outside, and in case you haven't noticed, it's getting to be quite cold. Besides, there are sections of the road that aren't well lit, so it's not really safe."

"I don't think I have to worry about getting mugged. I can move pretty fast on these things." He assures me.

"It's not muggers that you have to worry about. There have been some mountain lion sightings nearby. I wouldn't chance it."

"Ha! All right, you convinced me," he quips. "I just assumed you were feeling awkward about these and you didn't want to be responsible for the guy on crutches who falls off a cliff in your little town. Besides, I noticed you kind of staring at me on the trolley."

Did he just accuse me of staring? Well, I was staring, but not at his crutches. I'm not sure what to say, so I finally admit, "I was looking at your hair."

"My hair?" He seems amused.

"Yes," I say a little defensively. "You have really nice hair. So wavy and dark and shiny."

Oh my gosh, shut your mouth, Kate, I tell myself as I begin walking toward the parking lot to escape the awkward silence.

"So, I'm driving you to the Westchester, then? My truck is over here." I approach my Ford F-150. It's not the most beautiful thing in the lot, and certainly not the newest, but it's reliable, warm, and it can definitely handle all the roads in Eagle Canyon. I flick the auto start button. I can't wait to get the heat running as the temperature is dropping rapidly.

However, I stop just short of my truck as I notice that the step into the cab is fairly high – about as high as the trolley's first step. I turn toward Harry. "Um,is this all right? I mean, can you get up into the truck?" I'm embarrassed once I've said it.

He laughs and, thankfully, he doesn't seem the least bit offended. He's already made it to the truck and he's swung the door wide open. "The trolley didn't have one of these." He hoists himself up with one hand using the handle just inside the door.

"Would you mind driving me back to my cabin instead? I'm pretty tired, and it's not far. It's just a little bit past the Westchester, on Brickstone-"

"Brickstone Road, Canyon Crest cabins, right? That's where all the tourists stay."

"Who says I'm a tourist?" He teases.

"I do, because I know every single person between the ages of 18 and 25 in this entire county. And you are not one of them." I tease right back. "But, sure, I can take you back to your cabin."

I start the truck and wait a few minutes for the heat to start flowing. I take off my gloves and start to warm my hands in front of the heat. "I need to thaw my fingers before I can drive," I laugh.

"You really need to invest in some better gloves," he smirks as he looks at my $5 knit cheapies. He takes my right hand and starts rubbing it between his hands. Feeling a little uncomfortable, I'm tempted to pull away. After all, I just met the guy an hour ago. But his hands are warm and firm. He drops my right and gestures for me to give him my left hand. "I can't believe you live here and you don't have warmer gloves!"

"Well, I do have warmer ones. I just happen to like this design," I say, gesturing to my purple paisley gloves. "But I guess I should wear warmer ones when I come to work. Um, thanks," I go on, feeling a little flustered. "For the hand warming."

I quickly change the subject,"How about if I give you another quick tour of the town?" I ask. "I know you said you're tired, but it won't take long. There are some really cool things that aren't on the trolley tour."

"Sure, I'll text my sister to let her know." Harry pulls out his cell and sends a quick message.

"Is that an English accent I detect?" I ask as I drive out of the lot.

"Yes," he answers with a slight chuckle.

"Wow, so you really are a tourist," I comment.

"Not exactly," he says. "My family moved to Madison from England when I was around ten."

I drive up the winding road toward the highest bluff. We pass behind the light display with all the children playing in the snow. We creep a little higher up and make a sharp left, and then another quick right. I love the way my truck handles these hills. A few yards further, and I pull into a tiny opening between the trees. I pull my gloves on again and flick the locks open. I look at Harry and tell him, "The path is a little steep, but it's smooth. Will that be okay?"

He twists his lips a little and I think I might have insulted him. I really have no idea, but he seems to move just fine, crutches and all. I decide that, after this, I'm just going to keep my mouth shut and either let him maneuver the situation or let him tell me if he can't handle it.

"Yeah, it's perfect," he smiles reassuringly.

We make our way to the top of the path, and then I stop and just stand still. I don't say anything. The view from the bluff doesn't need any explanation. There's a waning full moon, which lights up the entire sound. We can see for miles out past the lighthouse into Lake Superior. It is exceptionally calm this evening, which is a good thing. The wind up here can make everything feel a lot colder than it already is. In the distance, we spot a freighter all aglow, Christmas lights lacing its outline.

"What do you think?" I ask softly. My voice seems to insult the pristine silence surrounding us.

"It's stunning," he finally breathes.

"Better than the trolley tour, huh? That old thing can barely make the small hills in town, let alone this steep climb. Besides, we can't have tourists falling off the bluff trying to get the best possible Instagram picture."

Harry laughs. It's a deep, smooth sound. I smile a little, too.

"Is there a name for this place?" He asks.

I blush a little bit and quietly tell him, "It's called Lovers' Lookout. You can imagine what people do up here in the summer. Luckily most people don't want to brave the subzero temperatures just to make out."

Harry laughs again and I really like the sound. It makes me feel warm inside, even though it's becoming one of the coldest nights I can remember.

"Speaking of subzero temperatures, I'm about to freeze my fingers off. Can we head back to the truck?" He smiles.

When we are safe back inside the warming truck, I tell him, "When there's no moon, the stars up here are incredible, too. Cygnus and Orion are my favorites. Once in a while, you can see the northern lights across Lake Superior as well. It's phenomenal. There's something so amazing about being so close to the heavens."

I feel kind of embarrassed after I've said all of that. Harry doesn't say anything, so I wonder if he thinks I'm a complete dork. Then I decide that I don't care because when I start talking about the stars, sometimes I can't stop. I point through the windshield, "The north star is right there. It's so bright that you can see it even when the moon is out. On moonless nights, though, it looks like a candle in the heavens because it's so vivid. You can also see the knife hanging from Orion's belt on a dark night."

As we drive back down from the bluff and around town, we lose track of time. Harry and I discover that we have a mutual love of the outdoors. I tell him about the endless skiing, skating, and hiking opportunities in the area. I'm about to suggest that we go sledding together some time, but then I think better of it.

I drive along the cliffs and back through town, to the road that leads to the beach below the bluffs. "There is another breathtaking view, from the beach over there. But we probably shouldn't get out this time because I'm still partly frozen from the bluff." I inch the truck as close to the beach as I can without getting too far into the snow-covered sand. "Look over there," I point to a few small caves hidden near the base of the cliffs. "My sister and I used to ride our bikes down here and play in those caves for hours during the summer. Maybe if you come to visit when it's warmer, I can show them to you."

He smiles and agrees, "I'd like that. How's the swimming here?"

He swims? I wonder. "It's perfect, if you like rocks. It's great for snorkeling, too. The bottom here is mostly small rocks and pebbles. It's a bit tricky if you have bare feet, but with water shoes, it's great fun. The water stays nice and clear. However, this is Lake Superior, so the temperature never gets much warmer than an ice cube. But, speaking of rocks, there are some pretty ones here. I've found some amazing agates. Do you know what an agate is?"

He smiles and nods.

"Sorry, not everyone does," I continue. "My favorites, though, are Petoskey stones, which you can only find in the Lower Peninsula, so I guess it's not relevant to this beach, is it? Wow, am I talking a lot?"

Harry laughs and says, "Yes, you are! But it's okay. You sound like a tour guide. Oh, wait! You are a tour guide," he nudges me and gives me a little smirk.

"Well, I'm not planning to do that forever," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm finishing my second year at the community college, and I then I have to decide where to go after that."

"Do you know what you want to study yet?" He asks.

"I'm thinking about Occupational Therapy." I pause and hope for some kind of lead in to ask Harry about his crutches. I decide not to ask just yet because it seems kind of personal to ask why he uses them. I continue, "My grandmother had a stroke about seven years ago, and I was fascinated by the process she underwent to learn how to cope with her partial paralysis. I'm not sure she would appreciate my use of the word fascinated, but it really inspired me to see her learn how to do many things with one hand. She passed away a few years later, but not before showing everyone how much she could do." I glance over at him again. "Oh, gosh, I'm talking a lot again. Sorry," I finish a bit awkwardly.

"It's fine," he smiles. "Well, the University of Wisconsin has a Master's Program for Occupational Therapy, so you could look into that. I'm at UW right now."

"What year?"

"I'm a senior."

"Studying what?"

"I want to go into medicine, so once I'm done at Wisconsin, I'll transfer somewhere else. Maybe the University of Michigan medical school. Wisconsin has a medical program, too, but I'd like to move away from my family for a bit. I mean, they're great, but I've been in Madison for thirteen years and...well, it's a long story. Anyway, I'm kind of lagging behind in making that decision. I should have already applied to med school and I should be preparing to take the MCAT, but I've had a few delays. After the holidays, I'm planning to get serious about narrowing down my choices."

He's going to be a doctor? This guy just keeps getting better and better,  I smile to myself. I realize we've been talking for a long time and shift the truck into gear.

"Are you finished with classes already? Mine aren't over until the second week of December." I remark.

"I have to go back to Madison for a few finals, but my parents insisted that I join them at the cabin for Thanksgiving. I'll be down there for a few days this week, a few next week, and then I'll be back here until the new year."

"So, you're on Brickstone Road?" I ask.

"Yeah, our cabin is all the way at the end."

"And you're staying with your sister, right? Does she live here?" I ask.

"No, it's my family's cabin. We bought it about five years ago, but we haven't been up here much. My parents, my sister, her husband and Oma, my grandma, are all staying there. My dad is a professor at the University of Wisconsin. That's why we moved there from England. He's also a high school football coach, too. Probably the only Englishman who loves American football as much as he does. Anyway, he's been really busy, but he's taking a break. It's kind of a leave of absence because our family has been pretty overwhelmed during the past few years. He has a friend at the community college here. He said he might try to visit the campus some time, maybe sit in on a class. He even mentioned the possibility of giving a guest lecture. Anyway, my parents really wanted all of us to take an extended vacation together before I graduate from college."

"Wow, that's a lot of people under one roof!" I observe.

"You have no idea," Harry agrees. "It's a big cabin, but I like to get out as much as I can. Oma isn't with us all the time. She lives in Ontonagon, so she goes home for a few days, and then heads back to spend time with us. It makes more sense than cramming into her tiny house up there."

I approach the end of Brickstone Road and see a cabin that clearly doesn't belong to Canyon Crest rentals. It is about twice the size of a rental; it's quite a bit older and more rustic, but it also looks more lived-in. "This must be your place."

"You've got it," he grins. "Home sweet home."

Suddenly, I feel a buzz in my pocket. It's a text from my mom: Where are you?

Oh, shoot! I had forgotten to let her know I wasn't coming straight home. My dad is working late this week. He is a mechanical engineer at a steel plant. He occasionally works nights for a variety of reasons, but for the most part, he has a regular nine to five job. My mom must have just gotten home from the second shift at the hospital. Even though I'm in college, I still try to let them know where I am and what I'm doing.

I quickly text back: SORRY! Took a friend home. Be home soon.

I turn toward Harry and say, "I guess I should get home. I'm sorry I kept you out after your bedtime," I joke.

"No problem. I can sleep in tomorrow. I'm on vacation, remember? I wasn't really that tired. I just didn't feel like tagging along with my sister and her husband for their dinner date." He pauses before continuing, "I had a really good time with you, Kate. Thanks for showing me around." He looks right at me with those lush, beautiful eyes and I start to melt.

"You're welcome."

We sit for a few more minutes in silence. I don't know what has happened in the last few hours, but I don't really want to say good-bye.

"Well, thanks for the ride home," he breaks the silence. He opens the door, hops out, gives me a full smile, which is even better than his half smile, lighting up his entire face with joy. He slams the door and quickly makes his way up his front walk and the wooden steps to his cabin. He handles the crutches like a pro. I'm left to wonder what happened to him.

When I walk into my own kitchen, I find my mom finishing up the dishes that my sister and brother have not done, again. That's not a big surprise. She looks up at me and laughs, "What's with the silly grin on your face?"

"W-what?" I stutter. "Oh, nothing. I just had a good time with a friend tonight."

"Oh? Which friend?" She doesn't realize that I'm half way up the stairs because she has turned back toward the sink.

"Harry!" I yell as I shut my bedroom door.

I only hear a faint question in return as I flop onto my bed, the silly grin still frozen in place.

"Who's Harry???"

* * * * *

So hey, here's the first chapter! I'll update maybe once a week and like I said, the book is already written, so it won't take too much time for me to change the details to make it a fanfic.

If you're interested, please add the book to your library and you'll get notifications when I update! <3 xoxo