Chapter 3 Presley #2
“The Love Bear Goes to Space by Terry Salmon.” I read the first title aloud as I shoved it into the stove.
“What does this book have to do with Jesus?” I asked, rhetorically, holding back a laugh.
“I’m sorry, love bear. Your sacrifice is for central heating.
” I retrieved another match, zipped its strip, and waited for the inferno.
Within seconds, I saw flames. The warmth quickly spread, but before I knew it, so did thick, black smoke.
“What in the world, Love Bear?” The chalet was filling up with black smoke from the wood stove.
I closed the door of the stove, locking its latch, but it just kept spreading.
Jumping into action, I grabbed Priscilla, covered her head in my jacket, and ran to open a window.
The only problem? The smoke was filling the room faster than I could move.
We had no choice but to open the front door and stand outside while it cleared.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” I kissed Priscilla on the head as her body trembled in the plunging temps, despite her wearing a jacket, boots and being zipped up cozy in my own jacket. After a few minutes of holding the door open, I heard a voice behind me.
“Is everything okay in there?” It was such a handsome, rugged, cowboy voice—I knew it could only be one person.
Turning, I found myself face to face with Ford, who was wearing a black winter jacket, jeans, and what could only be described as “work boots.” He had a baseball cap yanked halfway down his eyebrows, as if he was trying to conceal his identity again.
But there was no concealing that jawline.
“No, not really,” I sighed, knowing I was moving back into the territory of being a pain in someone's rear, but I didn’t care. I was freezing, Priscilla was freezing. I peered over to the Sage Mountain Resort. “I think this trip is doomed. I should just go get a hotel room,” I shrugged.
“What’s wrong in there? Despite the power being out,” Ford asked.
“The wood stove is spreading smoke everywhere, and I thought I’d, uh, air it out.” His eyes widened as he ran inside, his forearm covering his mouth and nose. After a few minutes, he came back out to the porch.
“The chimney isn’t working properly. Seems someone cut a few corners upon install.
” He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
“The chimney cap has to be higher than the ridge of the house. I can’t believe this passed inspection.
” His annoyance went beyond neighborly. “You can’t stay there unless the power comes back on.
” I nodded, thinking about my options and remembering the cute boutique hotel I walked past this morning on my way to the gondola. What was it—the Tucked Inn, perhaps?
“Okay. Hopefully the property managers can refund me for this. I spent a small fortune to stay here this week.” I let myself commiserate for a moment.
“They will.” Ford crossed his arms. I tilted my head, wanting to ask him how he knew that.
Was he friends with them? Maybe he knew the owners?
My mind went back to him having a key. Maybe he helped out.
Like a superintendent situation. But why would the multi-millionaire face of skijoring need to be doing that?
“Thanks for your help, Ford. I just need to grab my bags. Would you mind, uh, holding Priscilla for a moment? I would hate for her to breathe in the smoke.” His eyes widened again as I handed him my little bundle of joy. He didn’t wrap her in his jacket like I had, so I knew I had to be fast.
Upstairs, I tossed everything I brought back into my suitcase and hastily zipped it shut.
My ski boots went into a duffle. I brought those to the front porch and made one more quick trip back to the kitchen, where I put all of my food into a large reusable bag.
I hope I get a room with a fridge for this stuff, I thought to myself.
Back outside, Ford was picking up my luggage and loading it into the back of my Yukon.
“Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it.” I reached out to take Priscilla from his arms but paused when I noticed she wasn’t even shaking. He nodded, handing her over, and she immediately started the cold act again.
“You’re welcome to come inside and warm up for a few minutes while you look for a room. I have a computer you can use.” That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Going from hotel to hotel seemed daunting.
“I’d appreciate that. Thanks.” Ford nodded and went ahead of me to open the door of his chalet, motioning for me to go inside first. It was like walking into a warm cloud.
I stepped out of my shoes to be polite, sitting on his small entryway bench to do so.
I also removed Priscilla’s boots and thought I heard a chuckle coming from Ford when I did so.
Taking off her shoes was all Priscilla lived for at this moment: She immediately started zooming around his home and jumping on and off his couch in the process.
“I’m sorry—she’s excited to be here, I think.” I couldn’t believe her burst of energy, but at the same time, I thought it was adorable. I peered over at Ford who didn’t seem to react at all.
“That’s fine by me. She needs to get her exercise somehow.” He poured himself a cup of coffee, pointing to it. “Do you want one?”
I shook my head. “Better not, or I’ll be up all night.” He nodded and went into another room where I heard a computer boot up.
“It’s all ready for you. I have the Sage Mountain Resort site pulled up for you. It has every single lodging option we have.”
“Great. Thanks, Ford. I’ll just be right back, Priscilla,” I called out to her as it looked like she was a pinball bouncing around his furniture.
Inside of Ford’s office, there was a beautiful floor to ceiling window that overlooked the horse stables across the way. The cold air was heavy and settled around the mountains, creating a dreamlike fog atmosphere.
His hand-carved wooden desk had a supple leather topper, attached with brass tacks. It was very western and as I looked around, I noticed all of it was. In the chalet I rented, everything was exquisitely modern and alpine chic. In Ford’s chalet, it was like stepping into a ranch house. I liked it.
Adding in the dates of my nearly week-long stay, minus one night, yielded no results.
“Okay, maybe I need to stay a few places.” I took off half of the nights and looked for something the next three days.
Nothing. “How about two nights?” I asked the computer as my searches became frantic.
Sorry, no results! “Tonight. That gives me one night to pray for the roads to open and at least then, I could go back home!” Sold out.
Tiptoeing back to the living room, I tried to hide my expression from Ford, but it didn’t work. He caught my eyes with his.
“Well?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Everything is. . . sold out.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“But it’s okay. We have enough warm blankets, and surely the chalet won’t be that bad without heat, and if the roads open back up.
. .” Ford looked away, and I trailed off, recalling before the wood stove incident I could see my breath. It was bone chilling inside.
“You can stay here.” He didn’t make eye contact with me, but instead, walked to the window.
The snow was falling again, hard. While it made for perfect conditions on the slopes, it was more than a little daunting to be trapped by it.
In a town I wasn’t from. In a stranger’s chalet.
A stranger that was in fact extremely gorgeous, which made it even more upsetting.
Now, this handsome man was saying I could stay here?
I looked around and saw that Priscilla was snoring loudly as she slept on a couch cushion.
There was also a blanket half pulled up around her, which I didn’t know if she burrowed under or. . .
“Where would I sleep?” All of his furniture was luxurious.
His tooled leather couch didn’t necessarily look like it was meant for a sleepover, and I certainly wouldn’t be sharing his room.
The idea of it got me so fired up, I felt angry.
Is THAT his motivation here? Get me in his bedroom?
Because it ain’t happenin,’ buddy. I’d rather camp in a frozen house than entertain that idea for even a second.
“In the guest bedroom. This has more than one room, you know.” The relief washed over me, but the reality of sharing a home with a man who was not my husband sharpened my mind.
The fact was, I had nowhere to go right now.
There was a bedroom here that I would be welcomed to sleep in. I just had to keep my wits about me.
“I don’t know, Ford. To be honest, I am feeling hesitant to cohabitate with a man who is not my husband.
” The words came out of my mouth faster than I could stop them.
Here we go—the crazy train had left the station.
This was usually where a man piped up to say I was “ridiculous” or “unbearable” to be around.
I wanted to watch his expression, but he still faced the window.
“Are you married?” Ford asked, turning to me.
“No. I am just. . . Waiting for that, is what I mean.” Cringe. Now, he probably had no idea what we were talking about. After a motionless moment, he nodded.
“I promise to be a gentleman, and we will get you back into your chalet as soon as possible. I’ll send an email to the maintenance crew today.”
“Thank you.” Okay, this was fine. I just needed to keep those wits. And my dignity. And whatever I did, I did not need to fall for this gorgeous, introspective, quiet, brooding cowboy. Lord, please put a barrier between me and this man so I don’t form any ridiculous feelings for him.