Chapter 28
Ismeralda
As we clomp up the stairs, Gabe grumbles, “Winston better not have booked the honeymooners cabin.” He’s been grumpy since we stopped at another hole-in-the-wall burger joint and they were out of beef and potatoes. Go figure. Gabe settled for the chicken sandwich with a side of coleslaw, and he’s been a Grumpy Gus ever since.
“Winston and Martha! Welcome back,” the receptionist says in a cheery voice.
My jaw drops. “Mindy?” I say, unable to believe my eyes.
She’s transformed into a true cowgirl, wearing a fringed shirt and cowboy hat. Her goth makeup is gone, replaced with eye shadow and mascara reminiscent of a female country singer.
“Yep. I’m still here. I heard congratulations are in order,” she says.
Gabe and I exchange confused looks. “Congratulations?”
“You two got hitched!”
Gabe grunts.
“There must be a mistake,” I say. “We aren’t married.”
Mindy’s face falls. “That’s too bad. Jethro couldn’t stop talking about the romantic rescue Martha made when Bessie took off with Winston. I heard it was quite a sight!” she says with her hand over her heart.
“Guess I’ll never live that down,” Gabe mutters.
“Can we check in, Mindy? Ga—Winston is a little grouchy and needs to eat something.”
“Sure thing!” she says, jiggling her mouse. After a few seconds of her clacking on the keyboard, she says, “Well, this is awkward.”
“What?” I ask.
“You’re booked in the Honeymooner’s Cabin,” she replies, biting her lower lip.
“Just switch us to the Greenhorn Cabin,” Gabe says.
She blinks at both of us, still biting her lip. “We’re full. The only other cabin available is the Kiddie Lodge, but it has bunkbeds. We typically put a family’s overflow kids there.”
“We’ll take it,” Gabe says before I have a chance to respond.
“It has lots of board games, and we usually stock the mini fridge with chocolate milk and the pantry with Fruit Loops,” she says excitedly. “It will bring out your inner child!”
“That sounds delightful,” I say, tossing Gabe a glare so he doesn’t complain any further. How is he going to fit that big body into a bunkbed? I grin.
She types away at the keyboard, then hands us each a key attached to a Donald Duck keychain. “Don’t lose the key!” she quips.
“Is the mess hall open?” I ask, knowing we need to feed my hangry companion.
Mindy shakes her head. “No, sorry, not right now. But don’t miss the Cowboy Buffet and campfire this evening. Jethro is leading a cowboy song singalong.”
“We’ll make sure we take those in,” I say, steering Gabe towards the door.
After we climb in the SUV, he says, “There better be Fruit Loops in the pantry!”
I laugh.
~*~
The Kiddie Lodge is cute, in a quaint and rustic way. Unfortunately, most of the furniture is designed to fit a ten-year- old. Gabe goes in search of food while I sneak a peek at my cell to get an update on my YouTube channel subscriber count. Am I still leaking subscribers like water through a sieve? Holding my breath, I bring up my channel. My heart leaps in my chest. The count is up to 1.98 million after sinking to a low of 1.96 million. Whew! The trend is going in the right direction and hopefully it stays that way.
I join Gabe in the kitchen. He looks like a giant as he sits at the breakfast nook table chomping down a bowl of Fruit Loops. There was only chocolate milk in the fridge, but that didn’t deter him as he soaked the brightly colored loops in the brown liquid.
“How’s the snack?” I ask after he’s on his second bowl.
“Quite tasty,” he says. “I haven’t had these since I was a kid.” He pauses from shoveling food into his mouth and says, “How’s the licorice?”
I shrug, chewing on a long string of red candy. “Wish they had chocolate bars, but this will do for now.”
He chuckles. “We’ll go on a candy and snack run tomorrow. Spanish Fork is only ten miles away.”
“Okay, as long as we leave time for another trail ride.”
His spoon pauses halfway to his mouth. “I’d like to try a different steed this time.”
I laugh. “You can take that up with Jethro.” Scanning the ranch’s app on my phone, I say, “Would you like to take in the gold panning, archery class, or yoga this afternoon? There’s also a petting zoo if you really want to bring out your inner child,” I tease.
“How about zip-lining or river rafting?” he says.
“Sadly, they don’t offer those,” I say, feigning disappointment. “There’s a guided fly-fishing expedition tomorrow.”
Gabe’s eyes brighten. “Let’s do that! How about this afternoon we watch one of those movies,” he says, nodding towards the DVD player.
“Okay!” I say, hopping to my feet, then rummaging through the discs. There’s a plethora of old westerns, nothing else. “You can choose reruns of The Rifleman or Bonanza , or a western movie.”
“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for Little Joe and Hoss,” he says. “What’s the movie choices?”
“ The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Unforgiven, or True Grit ,” I say.
“Which version of True Grit ? John Wayne or Jeff Bridges?”
“They have both.”
He holds up his bowl and slurps down the last of the milk.
“Wait! Have you ever seen Blazing Saddles ? That’s a funny one,” I say after finding the disc hidden in the pile.
“ Blazing Saddles it is!” Gabe says. He jumps up and goes to the pantry. “How about some popcorn?” he says, triumphantly holding up a box of microwave popcorn.
“Do you have a hollow leg?” I tease.
“The cereal was just a starter,” he says.
Laughing, I say, “Pop the corn and join me on the couch.”
~*~
We both fall asleep halfway through the movie. Even though it was funny, we were both too tired from our drive here to stay awake.
“What’s that noise?” I ask after a loud sound outside wakes me.
Gabe bounces to his feet, instantly on high alert. “What kind of noise did you hear?”
“Shh! Listen,” I say, hearing the noise again. “It sounds like someone is ringing a bell.”
“It’s the dinner bell! We can’t miss the Cowboy Buffet,” Gabe says, tugging me to my feet.
“I’ve got messy hair and I need to refresh my makeup!” I squeal as I run towards the bathroom.
“I thought you were taking a break from having to look glamorous for every occasion,” Gabe says.
My feet skid to a stop. “I did say that,” I admit. “But I’m not ready to fully abandon my image yet.”
Gabe shrugs. “You’ve got five minutes. But if they run out of Greenhorn Stew, I’m going to be grumpy.”
Rolling my eyes, I run to the bathroom. Bending down to use the kiddie-high sink, I get ready. I’m simply not ready to entirely ditch the glamor-girl act. Will I ever be?