I put my finger up to my lips and shook my head as if to say that I’d stay quiet. Her secret was safe with me. Abby’s face lit up with a silent giggle.
She mimicked my notion by putting her tiny pointer finger over her lips.
The sight of her warmed my heart.
One day, I’d have a little one of my own running around – just not anytime soon. I was enjoying my life as a bachelor a little too much.
It’d take one very special girl to finally get me to settle down. So, far no one really fit the mold.
Who knew if she existed.
Guess time would tell.
***
After breakfast, I decided to go up the mountainside to the ski lodge where the lifts were located. I wanted to get a head start on fixing whatever was causing them to run slow.
I opened the passenger door of my truck for Bella to jump inside and walked around the back to the driver’s door. All of a sudden, my foot slipped, and my leg shot up in front of me. “Uggh,” I called out as I grappled for the bed of the pickup.
At the last second, I felt my fingers make purchase and I latched onto the truck bed to pull myself up. “Shiit, that was a close one!”
I guessed I’d better salt the roads and walkways this morning before I did anything else, I told myself. What’s worse? A slow ski lift or a guest with a broken leg?
I took out my cell phone to call Harley to tell him that the ski lift would have to wait for a couple of hours.
“Howdy Ho?” Harley answered.
“Howdy yourself,” I countered.
Harley snickered. “You didn’t have to call to tell me you were on your way, ya know.”
“No shit, wise-ass,” I said. “I’m calling to tell you I can’t come up there right now.”
“Why not? I’ve got a lot of lessons lined up today.”
“Because I almost wiped out on some black ice and realized that the roads need to be salted. I’m going to do them and the walkways first. What time don’t you have lessons today?”
“Got em’ all day today. We’ll survive. I’ll just make up some jokes to keep the guests laughing about their slow rides. Come up first thing tomorrow morning. I don’t have any lessons until 11 a.m.,” Harley told me.
“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” I hung up.
I drove over to the resort’s maintenance garage where we kept all the heavy equipment. We had a small backhoe and tractor parked in there along with several riding lawn mowers, two snowmobiles, and four four-wheelers. Plus, a wagon we recently purchased to use for hayrides and things. I kept my plow and salter in there for my truck as well.
I lifted the empty salter onto the back of my truck and secured it. I wanted to get the sidewalks salted for the guests who were walking. I took my walk-behind salt spreader and filled it with rock salt. I pushed it back over to the sidewalk that led to the resort’s main building and salted the walkways really good.
I saw a group of what appeared to be college girls walking by. This time of year was winter break for high school and college students, who took to our resort for group trips with friends. The girls were whispering to one another as they walked my direction and gave me a few flirtatious grins as they talked past.
I couldn’t help but laugh silently to myself.
I was accustomed to the attention of younger girls, who seemed to find something appealing about a big burly mountain man busy flexing his muscles while laboring outdoors.
I didn’t mind the attention. It certainly made the long work days feel shorter. That said, I never mixed business with pleasure. The guys and I had an unwritten rule about not fraternizing with the guests at our resort. As far as I knew, we pretty much all stuck to it well. To be honest, we never had trouble in the romance department so it didn’t bother us to leave play time for after work hours.
I needed to get the walkways and roads around the ten cabins that we rented out and up at the lodge and ski lift, as well. So, I pushed the salt spreader back to the garage and hoisted it up into my truck bed.
I threw in an extra bag of salt to fill the spreader back up at the lodge. Five of the cabins were down the road, closer to the river. They were usually rented out by fishermen and their families. The other five cabins were in the woods behind the road that went up to the ski lodge.
I went down to the fishing cabins first and salted the road along the way. Then, with Bella watching from the truck window, I hoisted the salt spreader back out of my truck and salted all the walkways and the porches of the cabins. Only one cabin was being rented down here right now by a group of fishermen.
I talked with them briefly about their catches.
We preferred that nobody cleaned fish in the cabins as it left a lingering stench behind. Even though we had signs posted about it in each cabin, we still got guests that did it from time to time. I’d found a way to inquire about fish cleaning without coming across as being rude
“Have you guys tried out our fish cleaning station yet?” I asked them, nonchalantly, as I was salting the walkway.
“Yeah man, it’s great. So much better than cleaning them out on the picnic tables like we had to last time we were here. And the grills are a nice touch, too,” the fisherman responded.
“That’s good to hear. Yeah, we decided to put it in a couple of years ago when a lot of guests were asking for a better way to clean their fish. And, who doesn’t like freshly grilled fish?” I asked, adding a big belly laugh for good measure.
“We caught a bunch of Winter Trout and a couple of Small Mouth Bass yesterday and had a grill fest last night. Very tasty if I do say so myself.”
“You’re making my mouth water,” I told him, laughing. “You heading out today?”
“Yes, sir,” the man responded.
“Good luck out there,” I told him.
“Thanks, man,” he said, taking his gear from his truck.
I continued on my way, salting the roads up to the other cabins. All five of those cabins were rented out this week with skiers and nature enthusiasts. One couple, who were regulars, brought along their own snowmobiles for the trails. In the warmer months, they’d bring mountain bikes. Two of the other four cabins had families with kids renting them, one a group of friends, and another couple had rented the fourth.
I stopped briefly and talked with the couple who were gassing up their snowmobiles.
“Perfect day for hitting the trails,” I remarked.
“Hey, Cole. Yeah, can’t ask for better weather or snow,” the woman answered.
“We were out there yesterday, and the snow is two feet, packed solid,” the man chimed in.
“Sounds like a fun ride. Be safe out there,” I reminded them.
“Sure thing. Have a good one,” the woman replied.
“You do the same,” I told them, getting back into my truck to go up to the lodge.
The lodge was busy already even though it wasn’t even lunch time yet. With the sun shining and the snow packed, everyone wanted to take advantage of the perfect conditions.
I noticed that the lot was half full of vehicles, as well, which meant that locals had come up for a day of skiing and tubing, too.
Good shit, I thought, as I salted around the vehicles. We’re making some loot today. I finished the road and parking area and parked in a spot by the lodge. I let Bella out of the truck and used my salt spreader to do the walkways and front porch. I figured that I’d do some of the mountain walking trail that went around the lodge and along the ridge, as well. It was a popular trail here with the guests with picturesque views of the river below in the valley and snow-covered mountaintops as far as the eyes could see.
Just as Bella and I were heading to the trailhead, I heard a voice call my name.
Oh, no...
“Hey, Cole,” a seductive voice called.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I reluctantly turned to face my worst nightmare.
“Hey,” I responded flatly, still
walking backward toward my destination, pushing on the spreader behind my back. I hoped that she would get the hint. I’m busy.
Coming down the steps of the lodge front porch was Sandra, a well-to-do widow, who was not my type. She tried to get me into her bed every time she saw me.
I normally hated being rude to the guests, but that lady had it coming.
“Cole, my love, are you going to run off without saying hallo?” she crooned in her sultry, southern drawl, which I was pretty sure was a fake accent.
“I’m very busy. What can I do for you, Ms. Dawson?” I asked firmly, trying not to make eye contact.
“Ooh, Cole, you know I don’t like to be called Ms. Dawson. Reminds me I’m a widow. Why don’t you call me Sandra?”
“Okay, Sandra. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, if you put it that way,” she began in a raspy voice. “I’m having some trouble with my bathroom plumbing and was wondering if you could meet me in my room later this afternoon?” She came closer and grabbed my coat collar to pull me to her.
I felt my face get hot as I resisted her tug and strode backward, tearing her grip from my jacket.
“I can’t. I’ve told you this before.” I said sternly, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she continued, licking her red lips, batting her eyelashes, giving me her sexiest stare.
She was an attractive older woman, but her desperation was smothering. I preferred to chase my women, not the other way around. And aside from that, she was a guest at our resort.
“I have to go Ms. Dawson. I have work to do. Have a good day,” I told her and turned on my heels, not waiting for her to respond.
“Let’s go, Bella,” I called out to my dog, who was lingering back by the steps, a little too harshly. I was relieved when I heard her trot up behind me. I did not want to turn around again. I could imagine “Widow Sandra” boring a hole in my back with her ridiculous seductive gape.
What’s wrong with that woman?
Why can’t she take a hint?
Bella and I took our time strolling along the trail. I had shoveled the pathway yesterday and it was still clear, but a bit icy. I struggled with pushing the salt spreader in some places but didn’t care. I hoped that I spent enough time on the trail that Ms. Dawson would be gone when I came back out at the other end.
I hurried around the lodge in a wide arc, making sure to stay clear of the porch, and practically ran to my truck. I tossed the empty salt thrower into the bed, opened the door for Bella, and hurried around to the driver’s side.
I don’t know if Ms. Dawson was still in the lodge, or not, but I wasn’t taking any chances of running into her again. I know that she liked to have several afternoon drinks at the lounge. I backed out of my space and headed back down to the resort. Back at the maintenance garage, glad to be alone, I unloaded my equipment and thought about lunch.I supposed she could be in the dining room as it was still lunchtime.
Shit, I guess I’d just go back up to my cabin and eat. I had to find out how long she was going be staying with us this time. I sighed and drove up to my cabin. I gave Bella her dog food and I had a hearty lunch of roast beef sandwiches and beef gravy. Filled up, I scraped my scraps of roast beef into Bella’s bowl and she licked her chops in thanks.
Now what? I couldn’t look at the lifts until the morning, so I guessed the next big thing that needed to be done was cutting some wood.
“Come on Bella, time to cut wood,” I informed her. Bella looked up at me with her big brown eyes and wagged her tail. I decided to go straight to the source and start on a new log. We’d need the extra wood anyhow.
Grabbing my chainsaw from my woodshed, Bella and I drove my truck down to the end of the driveway, past Dax and Harley’s cabins. There, at the end of the driveway, the road turned into a dirt off-road trail that I followed for about a half of a mile. About a month ago, I had downed several trees back there for wood that still needed to be processed. Cutting it up would help to dry it out quicker.
A few hours after laboring, I was exhausted; I wanted nothing more than a beer and hot shower. I drove back up to my cabin and went straight to the fridge to grab a cold one. It felt amazing as it slid down my throat.
I made a quick fire in the fireplace to warm up the place and downed a second beer. Then, I informed Bella, “I’m taking a shower.” She glanced over at me and yawned, curling up on the bear rug before the fireplace.
A hot shower was what I needed to relax my sore muscles. I lathered up the soap and felt the day wash off of my tense body. After my shower, I still had work to do. Bella and I ate a quick meal and I put a couple of beers into a small cooler before heading outside to my work shed.
I started another fire in the small woodshop stove for us and began to work on my surprise for Brad and Angela─ a Christmas gift for their little one─ a giant wooden rocking horse.
2
Lindsay
I awoke fresh and excited to get started. Arriving last evening at the Misty Creek Lodge, in Silverthorne CO, I was looking forward to working on the last segment of my book.
I was hoping to spot and photograph a winter-white Ptarmigan nesting in the Colorado mountain ridges. Ptarmigans were masters of disguise and camouflage. Those rare grouse turn a speckled brownish-grey in the summer months that blended in perfectly with the mountain willow and rocks that made up their environment. And, in the wintertime, they turned a pure white to disappear in the snow.
They were breathtaking.
Well at least to a nature geek like myself.
Brewing a cup of coffee, I took out my photo album to look at the summer shots of the same bird that I had photographed many years ago. I’d always wanted to complete the album by capturing the bird in its wintertime habitat and plumage. It just seemed the right thing to do.
My interest in wildlife photography started when I grew up with a single dad that always loved taking me out camping. We both had a keen interest in birds. Dad got me my first “real” camera when I was sixteen and ever since I enjoyed photographing the native birds of my hometown and state of Ithaca, New York. Later, I’d graduated from the Art Institute of New York in New York City.
I’d worked mostly as a freelance wildlife photographer, taking pictures all over the world, with my work being published in many wildlife magazines, online publications, and even appearing on television. One of my first assignments had been to photograph this unique bird─ the Ptarmigan of the Colorado Mountains-- and I’d been hooked ever since. The bird was amazing, you could walk right on by it and not even see it as it blended in with the rocks and surrounding grasses perfectly.
I’d traveled so much over the last seven years as a freelancer, selling my work to other publications, that I had not had the time to fulfill my own dream─to publish my personal Wildlife Photography Book along with all of the stories that went along with the photos and places that I had visited. While traveling, many times to remote places that I had to hike to with a team of peers, I’d kept a personal journal and took my own photos to document my unique story.
Photographing the winter-white Ptarmigan in its natural wintertime habitat was the finishing touch. To end it where it all began.
This would be my last photo session before I could completely put my book together. And, to complete this chapter of my life. Only then could I move on to my next adventure feeling that I had accomplished what I had originally set out to do.
And finally I was there, where it all had begun.
I put away the photo book and tried to remember the exact spot that I had photographed the bird so many years ago. I thought that I could remember the general area, but things did change, so I thought that I’d ask around town before taking the drive up the mountainside.
I packed up my camera and equipment in my camera bag and took a moment to brush my hair and teeth and to apply a small amount of makeup.
My long and si
lky, dark-chocolate-colored hair gleamed in the sunlight shining through my room’s windows. I pulled it back into a tight ponytail. I applied a rose shade of lipstick to my full lips and a matching shade of blush to my high-cheekbones. With a swipe of black mascara on my lashes, almond-shaped, emerald green eyes smiled back at me.
Looking into the mirror, I was happy with my reflection. Perfect.
I grabbed a twenty dollar bill off of the vanity and shoved it into the pocket of my insulated, soft-shelled black pants. From my travel bag, I pulled on a matching insulated, long-sleeved shirt and then put on my waterproof winter coat. I made sure that my gloves and knit cap were in my coat pocket and pulled on my waterproof hiking boots over a double layer of wool socks.
I was ready to go. Just then, the room phone rang.
Wonder who that could be?
“Hello?” I answered
“Hello, hello,” a familiar voice greeted me.
“Sophie! What’s goin’ on?” I asked my best friend excitedly.
“Hey, girl. I’m just checking in and making sure you got there okay. I texted you last night, but you didn’t respond.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I got in late last evening and was tired. I didn’t hear my phone in my purse.” I apologized. “But, everything’s great. The flight was uneventful, and I got my rental car without a hitch. And now, I’m getting ready to head out to find my bird at last!” I exclaimed.
“Cool! Glad to hear. Be careful out there and good luck with finding your bird!” she responded. “Call me tonight when you have time.”
“Will do,” I assured her.
“Don’t forget,” Sophie reminded me. “I know you have like the worst memory ever.”
I could feel her smirk coming through the line.
“I promise. I won’t forget,” I reassured her. “Talk to you tonight, Mom,” I joked.
“Goodbye, dear,” she replied, giggling.
“Bye-bye.” I chuckled and hung up the phone, smiling.
Sophie and I had been best friends since we had met in college ten years ago. She kept me in line. I swear, without her, I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my body.
Beauty and the beard Page 2