Chapter 6 Ford #3
“I’m really not sure, but the snow is still falling.
I doubt I could get an emergency tree trimmer tonight.
” If only I had a forklift, I could fix the thing by myself.
I thought about Presley in this room with that tree tonight.
Even after we taped the windows, the cold air was still seeping through.
“You can take my bedroom until we get this fixed properly. I’ll take the couch,” I said, walking out of the room.
As if on cue, Priscilla jumped up on the couch and started wagging her tail.
“Someone has already got my spot warmed up.”
“You don’t have to do that, Ford. I’m already staying here, taking up space in your chalet. I’ll take the couch. Priscilla wants to sleep on it anyway—she’s making that clear.” We both smirked at how she was acting as she ran around the couch cushions and sporadically began digging on the blanket.
“I insist. I’d rather stay down here to monitor if the window gets hit again.” Presley looked like she was weighing her options. Her comment about taking up space didn’t sit well with me.
“Okay, if you promise you don’t mind.” I shook my head, going to the linen closet off the laundry room to grab some fresh sheets and pillowcases.
Presley had set her luggage at the end of the stairs, so I brought it up with me.
By the time I made it upstairs to strip the bed, Presley had taken another bag up there and was putting her beauty products around my sink.
A bark from the bottom of the stairs got her attention.
“Priscilla hates stairs. She tripped on one when she was a puppy and has held a grudge ever since,” she said. My back was turned to Presley, and I felt a smile coming on. Who would have thought that Shih Tzu’s were so entertaining?
After the sheets were changed, I went back downstairs to where Presley was back at the table with her dog on her lap.
“I thought I’d work on this a few more minutes before bed.
Want to join me?” Every part of my being was ready to go to sleep, but there we were in my makeshift bedroom for the night.
I didn’t want to be rude to my guest, so I walked over to the table and sat down.
Presley had quite a bit of the puzzle in progress already.
“This helps me unwind and think a little clearer before I go to sleep. Usually, I read before bed, but I’ve sworn off anything that isn’t the Bible for this week.
” She smiled and looked at me, waiting for me to jump into the conversation.
“You must pay for every word that comes out of your mouth, huh?”
“What do you mean?” I shook my head in confusion.
“I mean, you don’t say much. That’s okay, because I’ve been told I say a lot.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s their loss, Presley.” I couldn’t stop the words coming out of my mouth if I tried. “It sounds like the men you’ve dated have been real jerks.” Her jaw dropped and eyebrows raised.
“I mean, that’s what I was leaning towards too but.
. . Thank you for saying that,” she said.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I finally found the correct puzzle piece to fit into the perimeter.
“Good job, Ford,” she said, getting up and pushing her chair into the table, Priscilla in her arm.
“Well, thanks for the chat. Goodnight.” As she turned, I watched her walk up the stairs and into my bedroom.
That night, I took a top sheet and threw it over the couch.
Using an extra comforter to keep warm, I dozed off quickly and only awoke at the sound of a tree branch tapping the window in the guest bedroom.
Presley’s room. I got up a few times to make sure the glass was secure, but thanks to the tape, it appeared it was going to hold.
There wasn’t much of a draft coming in, despite the hasty tape job, which was a relief.
As I paced back to the living room, I considered what could happen if the chalet got too cold.
Or if the generator went out. I threw a couple logs in my wood burning fireplace and watched the fire tear through the fire starters and then into the logs.
The popping noises and familiar scent brought back memories of my childhood on a ranch in southern Wyoming.
I used to go out on cattle drives with my dad and his ranching buddies in the summer.
The cows had to be moved to places where they could have fresh land to graze; it took several days to do so, as it required them walking to where we needed them to go.
We didn’t have the means to transport them like some of the other fancy ranches around.
So, sometimes that required sleeping in the middle of a large pasture, out in the middle of nowhere.
I secretly loved being out in the wilderness sleeping, though my dad always complained about it.
His back would hurt from sleeping on the ground, even if he brought a three-inch thick piece of memory foam out with us.
And he’d miss my mother’s cooking and long to be away from food that came in a can.
But I loved it. I always wanted to show him my fire building skills, how I could ride on the horse like him and his friends just as well, or that I perfected the art of cooking a hot dog over a fire.
He never seemed to care. I wondered if Clint had been the one showing him all of these things, would he have felt differently?
But Clint was always back home overseeing the ranch, irrigating. Digging ditches. Or mending fences.
Even when I got caught by a tree branch while on a runaway horse as a kid, giving me a permanent, deep scar in my jaw line, I didn’t think he noticed.
I’d never forget that day; he grudgingly took me to the emergency room.
They gave me fifteen crude stitches, making X marks all down it.
As it healed, I wasn’t allowed to play outside because they didn’t want the bills that would follow if it became infected.
In my hurt, I felt like a burden to them.
Now, in my adulthood, I realized I had never connected on an emotional level with my family, and that was difficult for a child to experience.
Especially when my older brother, Clint, was the golden child.
Did they even want children? I wondered that, but their reaction to my brother’s every waking breath said otherwise.
What they did want was help around their farm, and society had certain expectations of people.
Or, at least they did back then. I’d like to have believed that they tried their best or did what they could, but I wasn’t sure what they were capable of because they never showed me.
As I lay listening to the fire crackle, its warmth spreading throughout my body, I realized I’d been holding a grudge against my brother for receiving what I didn’t.
Because I didn’t receive the love I had wanted, now I wasn’t forgiving him for it.
Lord, I need your help to forgive. Within seconds of my prayer, I was fast asleep once again.
When morning came, I was awake at dawn. The soft glow of the sun was reflecting light off of all the new snow that came overnight.
It was touchingly beautiful, and I had the urge to call my brother for the first time in years.
God, is this forgiveness? If only my phone wasn’t broken.
I went to my computer and quickly typed up a request to my manager, Jack, and asked if he could have a new one sent to me when the roads opened.
Then, I went to freshen up in the guest bathroom.
I had brought my toothbrush and toothpaste down here last night, but I had forgotten my razor and shaving cream.
I felt my stubble; it was already unruly.
I wasn’t the type of man who had a 5 o’clock shadow the same day, but my facial hair seemed to always be present in the mornings.
Changing into my ski clothes, I decided I’d spend one more day on the slopes before the Winter Games.
Originally, I thought about just using today as a rest and recharge day, but sitting around all day long inside did nothing but bring me anxiety and worry.
I’d been learning that about myself over the years; idle hands give the enemy too much to work with.
At least for me. While I wasn’t running from reality—in fact, I had my best thoughts while doing tasks—I couldn’t stay here.
In the laundry room, I slipped on my ski pants over my long johns. The henley long sleeve shirt I wore felt like it shrunk in the dryer. I made a mental note to get another one ordered soon. A door opened upstairs, followed by Presley carrying her dog down.
“Good morning,” she said, her eyes looking fresh and bright. Priscilla was in a bright pink sweater as Presley stopped to put a coat and boots on them both before going outside.
“How did you sleep?” I asked, out of character for myself. Or was it?
“We slept great, thanks for asking. The heat from the fire just lulled us to sleep like angels. And you? I’m sorry you had to give up your nice bed for the couch.”
“It was fine. I liked it. And I’m happy to report, the window didn’t get hit again. Yet, anyway,” I said. She smiled.
“Oh, thank goodness. I kept thinking I heard something creaking out there. I know I’ve been here a few days, so you’d think I’d be used to all the sounds of Sage Mountain. But I still wake up and wonder where I am.”
“That’s probably because you’ve slept in a different bed every night you’ve been here.” I crossed my arms and gave her a knowing look.
“You’re so right about that.” She tapped her forehead as if to say, “duh.” Presley looked me up and down. “So, training again today?” I shook my head.
“Nah. It’s all done. I’ve prepared all that I can for the Winter Games. Today, I wasn’t planning on it, but I’ve decided to go skiing again.”
“Ah, so there will be a tiger on the slopes today?” Presley laughed, and I nodded.
“It’s the only way I can be left alone.” I looked at her.
Her hair was in a braid going down her shoulder blades, and she was wearing her ski clothes and a fitted black turtleneck.
I didn’t know makeup well, but I could tell she was wearing a pink lip gloss.
I found myself thinking of her lips. Ford—get a grip. It was hardly seven in the morning.
“I bet it gets crazy with people recognizing you all the time. How long has that been happening?” she asked. I thought about it for a moment.
“Probably the last five years or so. Things really exploded again when I was in a high-profile relationship with my ex.” Just bringing Poppy up made me feel weird. But, God had forgiven me, and I had been freed from the shame and grief of that time in my life.
“I see. Well, I’m glad you have such a good disguise.
It certainly worked for you when we were in the gondola when that woman was fawning over you, and no one was the wiser.
” I waited for the questions about my ex to come, but they didn’t.
I knew she wanted to ask, because in my experience, every woman wants to know the details of past relationships.
But it dawned on me: Presley wasn’t interested in me like that, and that was okay.
Not to sound full of myself, or like I assumed she would be, but I’d always been a little bit of a lady’s man.
But, since Poppy, I’d turned into a private recluse who steered clear of any and all women.
It had been a relatively long stretch that I hadn’t even considered the idea of talking to a woman beyond friendship, and suddenly, here I was, toying with the idea if this woman liked me.