Leaving his chalet, I tried not to notice that his heated floors melted some snow right off my boots. Surely, he was used to that. Priscilla and I were back outside, where I took the deepest breath of fresh air that I could muster while I processed what had just happened.
The key slid into the lock as it should have and turned easily. I let out the breath I was holding. It was going to be okay. I put Priscilla down in her warm bed while I tiptoed back out to my front door and grabbed the firewood I collected, not letting the door shut behind me. Bringing it back inside, the chill in the air tickled my throat.
“It sure got cold in here fast,” I said to Priscilla, who was sitting on top of her blankets as she shivered dramatically, watching me load the wood stove. After it was full of wood, I took a long match from the coffee table that was sitting next to a candle and swiped it on its box. The zip of the flame was comforting and reassuring, but when I threw it into the stove, nothing happened. Watching the little flame move down the length of the match until it fizzled out—hmm—thisstarting a firething was harder than I thought.
“Priscilla, I knew I should have put you into Girl Scouts last summer,” I said sarcastically, as I looked for some kind of paper I could throw inside to start the fire. Then it dawned on me: I had piles, if notdozensof manuscripts in the back of my car. Surely, in an emergency type of situation like this, burning one or three would be warranted? Heck, it wasn’t like I didn’t print them out on my own printer; I had them all still backed up on my computer. But the guilt of burning a book—be it in any form—rocked me. I worked out an elaborate plan in my head as I propped the door open and walked to my car to retrieve them: I would write down all of the important facts—author’s name, title, and contact information—and the first thing I’d do when I returned to work was reprint them.
“The Love Bear Goes to Spaceby 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,cowboyvoice—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 describedas “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 pastthis morning on my way to the gondola. What was it—theTucked 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 thisstuff, 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 startedzoomingaround 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 itwas 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 andalpine 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.
