Chapter 9 Presley
Ski, Pray, Misconstrue
I couldn’t believe what I had heard. All of my greatest fears came true at that very moment when I decided that I would pause the movie and wait for Ford to return.
I wasn’t trying to listen in, but the open concept and his sky-high ceilings didn’t make it hard for voices to carry in this chalet.
Plus, he sounded so joyful. I wanted to hear him happy; so, I may have slowed my breathing as I craned my neck.
I may have ensured Priscilla stopped chewing on her toy for a moment so I could hear the happiness exuding from this brooding cowboy. But it was then that I heard the words.
“She’s just-—a lot. . .” All of my insecurities came rushing back to me.
I was too much for men. I wasn’t enough of whatever they thought they needed to see me as wife material.
It was devastating. I quickly un-paused the movie; I would act as though nothing had happened.
I wouldn’t let Ford know I’d heard those words coming out of his mouth.
It was too embarrassing for me to know it, let alone if he knew that I had heard it?
I wanted to save myself from that confrontation.
The room felt stuffy, which was impossible, because it was quite possibly the largest living room I’d ever been in if you counted its height. I needed to remove myself from this situation—to hide from Ford. To hide from myself. Lord, help me.
I scooped up Priscilla and the chew bone she was so eager to continue her masterpiece on and briskly went up the stairs.
I made it right before I heard Ford open his office door again.
He would have seen that I was gone by now, since the office went right into the living room.
My heart ached at the situation. Here I was, thinking we were jiving.
The past few days were a blast. He was opening up to me and sharing.
We just had an incredible day on the slopes together—and a moment I thought was worthy of a kiss.
And, we had a moment where I really thought we bonded over forgiving those who have hurt us.
No matter what I recalled from the day, I felt stupid.
Silly. Insignificant. Not only was all of that in my head—Ford did not have feelings for me like I had shamefully thought—but right now, he was probably feeling relieved to be away from me.
If only I had realized this sooner! I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and looked up hotels in the area.
Turned out, the books had turned. Many cancellations likely happened since the roads were still closed, and one hotel was having a special deal for tonight.
I could get out of Ford’s hair and let him have his bedroom back.
I could leave Sage Mountain first thing tomorrow.
I couldn’t click the “Book Now” button fast enough.
It was done; all I had to do was quickly pack my belongings, and I would be out of this grumpy cowboy's hair forever.
There was just one problem: the roads were still closed.
I looked at the local community digital bulletin board for the town, and it said the tentative opening date was tomorrow.
Turned out, there was a problem with the fleet of trucks they used to plow the major interstates.
Some sort of manufacturer recall, and since they were all brand-spankin’-new, bought by a local donor last winter to ensure something like this would never happen, they had no other vehicles to fall back on. I went to my knees and prayed.
“God, You sure do have a sense of humor. You have my attention; there is a lesson here I am to learn in Sage Mountain, and I’m all ears to find out what that is. Just please, Lord-—spare my heart any more aching. I don’t think I can handle this much rejection in one lifetime.”
Once my things were packed, I tiptoed down the stairs, holding Priscilla in one arm and carrying my roller bag in the other hand, and quietly grabbed her food out of the fridge, slipping it into my bucket bag slung over my shoulder. Ford, sitting on the couch, stood.
“Is everything okay? Where are you going?” he asked. Wow. He sure did play the part of a concerned, interested man—had me totally fooled.
“A room opened up at the Snowy Owl Inn, and I’m going to get an early start tomorrow if the roads are open.
I thought it best to get out of your hair,” I said, playing it up that I was cool as a cucumber.
After all, like a cucumber, our bodies are 90% water.
Yeah, I was a cucumber that felt like I could cry at any moment.
“Oh. Are you sure you want to go there? What if the walls are paper thin? Or, what if they have bed bugs?” Why was he questioning it? He should have been relieved that he was done with me.
“What’s your game here, Ford?” I set my luggage down and put my free hand on my hip while I waited for an answer.
“I mean, we’ve spent several days together.
Every meal together. Priscilla adores you.
I thought things were heading in a totally different direction.
” I picked the handle of my bag back up, feeling emotion hiding closely behind my eyes, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
No man deserved my tears ever again. Before he could respond, I opened the door.
“And then you tell your manager that I’m ‘just a lot.’ Well, here’s a lot, Ford: I was really starting to fall for you.
I mean, for who you are. Yes, you’re drop dead handsome, so I’m sure you get this a lot but.
. . I really was getting to know the real you.
And you know what? I’m thanking you! Thank you for showing me your true colors right now, when I can still walk away.
Before I’m so head over heels that I’m quitting my job and moving here to be with you.
” Ford’s jaw dropped, and I took a deep breath.
“I’m praying for you, Ford. Take care,” I said, as I walked out of his chalet and his life, forever.
The tears finally escaped the corners of my eyes once I was outside.
I saw him walking to the door from the window of the chalet; probably in an effort to help me with my bags.
I was sure he wanted me out of there as soon as possible, after all, but it was no use.
I tossed them in haphazardly, skis to follow and then Priscilla and I got in the car.
I could still see my breath in front of me because it was so cold in the Yukon.
Ford was right about one thing: the Snowy Owl Inn was worn out.
The walls were paper thin—thankfully, there weren't many other guests, but the guests who were there could be heard from every angle of my room. Since I hastily packed at Ford’s, I was saddened to realize I had forgotten Priscilla’s boots and jacket.
I must have left them by the door. I was tempted to put out some newspapers for her to potty on rather than risk her catching a cold or getting frozen in the elements, but I didn’t want to start any bad habits, either.
So, before bed, we grudgingly took a walk down the dark and dingy hallway to find an outside area.
Thankfully, she was in and out, and my blow dryer would help warm up her frozen paws.
Priscilla's Inner Monologue
This mattress is lumpy. I wish to take it up with management.
The lighting in the room was dimmer than I’d hoped, and the front desk had mentioned as much considering the town's power was still out. They had asked if I was running a lamp and a TV at the same time as a blow dryer, to unplug one item, lest they might blow a fuse. But by the looks of the place, I didn’t think that had anything to do with the power being out but everything to do with the age of the building.
Later on, when Priscilla was warm and dry and sleeping next to me in the saggy, uncomfortable bed, I longed to be back at Ford’s. Swatting away those thoughts, I turned back to God, revealing my feelings and all of my heart.
When I awoke the next morning, the sky was clear for the first time since I had arrived.
The constant stream of fat snowflakes had finally stopped falling.
The temperature had risen by ten degrees from what it had been averaging.
And after a moment, I could hear cheering from outside.
I climbed out of bed; my legs were sore and stiff from all of the skiing but looking out the window and watching all of the excited skiers walk by—I wished for a moment I could join them.
I opened the old window with its crank and listened to the cheers.
From the sounds of it, the power had finally been restored, and the roads were reopened—right in time for the Winter Games.
I looked at my phone; my reservation at my chalet was good until tomorrow.
What if I just went back there and slipped out for one last day of skiing today?
Surely, the slopes would be less busy with so many attending the games.
And what if, after skiing, I stopped by and was a spectator at the Winter Games?
Honestly, it would be devastating to leave this cute little town on this note, especially without seeing the event that I’d been hearing nonstop about since before I even arrived.
But, did I really want to risk seeing Ford?
My mind was searching for a way to bring him up and then I had it, sigh.
As self-betraying as it sounded, I did want to see Ford.
I knew that he didn’t like me, and I didn’t care.
Every bone in my body was drawn to him and not just for his looks.
I meant what I said last night—I liked him.
I cared for him. And I realized it was time to pray for him, right at this very moment.