Daydream Retriever (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 10)

by Susan C. Daffron

  Back then, she’d been completely fearless to the point that it was almost as if all those years of training and competition had happened to someone else. Now, Lisa was an extremely different person from that wild teenager who hadn’t been afraid of anything.

  Lisa turned off the highway and onto the winding road that led to the resort. It had probably been twenty-five years since she’d been on this road. She’d heard about some of the changes they’d made to Snow Grove, but had never seen them.

  Lisa had gotten into skiing seriously not too long after they’d finally paved the road, which had been a big deal at the time. The resort had opened in the early sixties with one long double chairlift and a T-bar. By the time Lisa had been skiing competitively in the late sixties and early seventies, the owners had expanded the lodge, added six more chair lifts, another T-bar, and a rope tow for the bunny hill. The base area had a deli in the lodge and a small condominium building.

  As Lisa got closer to the top of the mountain, the walls of snow alongside the road grew higher, and it was as if she were driving through a long white tunnel. The first notable difference at the resort was signage. Way back when, there weren’t any signs because it was obvious where to go. The road up the hill simply dead-ended in the parking lot. Now signs pointed toward multiple roads leading off to condominium complexes and several different parking areas.

  Lisa came to the disconcerting conclusion that she had absolutely no idea where she was supposed to find Sean Jenkins or his office. She hadn’t even thought to ask, which had been a stupid oversight on her part. Places did tend to change over the course of multiple decades. She slowed the truck, studying the signs more closely. A car came up behind her and honked, so she opted to follow a road that claimed it went to “The Village at Snow Grove.” That sounded promising. With any luck, the resort offices were located there.

  She navigated to a parking lot that was jammed full of cars. Finally, she snagged a parking place by using the stalker approach of waiting for someone to pull out and then zipping in. After wedging the truck into the slot, she put on Harley’s leash and got him out of the truck. Since she had no idea where she was going or how long it would take, he was going to have to go with her on this expedition.

  If the parade of skiers was any indication, the village was toward the north. Lisa could see the ski runs rising up on the mountain above, but from this parking lot, it was quite a trek to where the old lodge had been at the bottom of the slopes. A six-story opulent-looking condo complex blocked the view, but presumably, the village was behind it.

  Harley was excited about all the people carrying ski gear and eagerly yanked Lisa forward. She jerked back on the leash, “Harley, stop that! It’s slippery. You’re going to kill me, if you don’t calm down.”

  Momentarily chastised, the dog slowed and glanced at Lisa as she gained her footing again. Once she was steady, he resumed his program of pulling her toward the buildings. Maybe he smelled food. Whatever it was, the dog was desperate to get to the slopes.

  Seeing all the skiers happily chatting about their upcoming day of recreation on the mountain brought back memories of being here with Bev. On a clear day, from the top of Chair 1 you could see across the valley, all the way over to the lake. With chattering teeth, they’d turn in their chairs, hugging the backrest, so they could enjoy the stunning view during the long, slow lift ride up the mountain.

  Along with the rest of the skiers tromping alongside her up the metal stairs, Lisa finally made her way around the tall condo complex. People were skiing or walking in a central courtyard at the bottom of the hill. Shops and restaurants ringed the huge area, their signs waving in the morning breeze.

  The old lodge had been expanded and now sported a large outdoor balcony that faced the slopes. The balcony was dotted with skiers, resting and eating in-between runs. The old Chair 1 was gone, replaced by a high-speed quad lift that was swiftly spiriting skiers up the mountain. Although Lisa had received third-hand reports from her family and Bev about what the resort was like now, it was startling to see it all spread out in front of her. The slightly quirky Snow Grove she remembered from her youth had been replaced by a bustling high-end resort, and she suddenly felt extremely out of place. When she was young, she knew all the members of the Greenberg family and had skied with their kids. Presumably, those kids had been running the resort for a while now and they were the ones selling it.

  A few people glanced at Harley with raised eyebrows or smiles. Were dogs allowed? Lisa hadn’t even thought about the possibility that dogs might not be welcome, given that the place was so crowded. The dog seemed convinced that he needed to be somewhere, dragging her along the snowy ground. What was his problem? Most of the time, as long as he was with a human, he was reasonably mellow. If she’d known visiting the ski resort would turn him into some type of wanna-be sled dog, she would have figured out a way for someone to take care of him. This was ridiculous. She hauled on the leash, dragging him toward the buildings so she could see the signs. “Harley, cut it out! There’s nothing over there, except more snow and a whole lot of skiers. We need to find this office.”

  Lisa wandered around the perimeter of the courtyard, looking at signs. Skiers coming down off the mountain intent on getting an early lunch zoomed around her. Snowboarders stomped by, the boards they had attached to one foot thumping on the ground.

  The windows of the shops were filled with every possible form of colorful skiing and snowboarding gear imaginable. The low-tech equipment Lisa had owned back when she was skiing competitively would be laughable now. As a skier, Lisa found all the snowboarding accoutrements in the displays completely mystifying. Strapping both feet onto a board seemed like a bad idea, unless you happened to have a death wish.

  At last, she found a sign for the Snow Grove offices, which were upstairs from a small cafe. She opened the door and manhandled Harley inside the narrow stairwell, which was difficult because the dog was insisting on going the other way. “Harley, we’re going over here. Come on!”

  She stomped her feet to remove the snow from her boots and pulled Harley up the stairs behind her. He continued his quest to go in the other direction. What was wrong with him? “Give me five minutes, Harley, then we’ll get out of here. I promise.”

  Lettering on a glass door indicated she’d found the Snow Grove operations office, so she walked inside. A pretty blonde woman looked away from her computer monitor and smiled. “May I help you?”

  Lisa pulled the manila envelope out of her bag. “I need to drop this off for Sean Jenkins. Can you get it to him? Larry Lowell asked me to bring it by.”

  “Oh yes, the lawyer. I’ll take it; that’s fine.” She took the envelope and placed it on the desk. “Sean is in a meeting, but I’ll make sure he gets it.”

  Harley was attempting to tie his leash into a knot around Lisa’s legs. She bent over, pulled the leash away, and thanked the receptionist. It was definitely time to go home. This dog was acting like he was possessed by some type of alpine demon.

  Once Harley realized they were leaving, he resumed his campaign of pulling, eagerly galloping down the steps, back to the ground level. Lisa struggled to keep him from dragging her head over heels down the stairs. When they were close to the bottom, the door opened and a man looked up in surprise at the dog barreling toward him.

  Lisa shrieked as she stumbled and dropped the leash. Harley jetted past the man, down the last steps, out the door, and into the sea of skiers in the courtyard.

  Lisa shoved by the man, yelling “Harley!” over and over.

  She half-ran, half-slid out into the snowy central area, where Harley was galloping toward the ski slopes at full Labrador speed. What was he doing? As Lisa ran through the crowd, people turned to look at her and then at the dog she was chasing. Although she was yelling for someone to grab the dog, everyone was busy skiing. Most people ignored her and the people who did notice didn’t seem to know what to do.

  A few skiers made feeble efforts to slow Harl
ey, but big bulky winter gloves weren’t conducive to corralling a dog on a mission. Lisa was rapidly running out of energy and wanted to cry as skiers deftly skied around Harley. The dog galloped at full speed up the main ski run that dead-ended into the courtyard. Lisa had skied down Midway a million times, but she’d never tried to run up it on foot.

  Gravity and friction were not on her side, and breathing heavily, despair settled in. Trying to ignore her burning lungs, Lisa continued slowly climbing upward, following the paw prints in the snow as the rapidly retreating yellow canine form grew smaller in the distance. Losing a dog after two days would probably win the Worst Foster Mom of the Year prize or something. Brigid was going to kill her, and Larry wouldn’t be too happy either.

  Lisa bent to catch her breath, placing her palms on her knees. With a sigh, she looked up the hill. Harley had disappeared into a copse of trees. She had to find this idiot dog and get him back home.

  Chapter 4

  Hero Dog

  Wherever Harley was going, he was making a beeline to get there. Lisa continued trudging up the hill as more skiers whizzed by. A few jerked their heads to look when they realized she wasn’t attached to skis or a snowboard. People didn’t generally walk around on the slopes with no equipment. But by the time anyone realized, they were too far downhill to say anything. Only a fool like her would walk up a ski run.

  A skier wearing a colorful joker’s hat noticed her trekking upward, swerved, and tried to stop. Lisa turned her head to look as the young man flailed his arms, which launched his ski poles up into the crystal blue sky. He curled and began rolling like a boulder down the hill, skis and clothes hurtling away from him in a shower of alpine wear.

  The man stopped rolling, sat up, and started laughing hysterically. Another skier shouted and waved his ski pole. “Billy Bob! That was one righteous yard sale, dude. You totally rocked it!”

  Billy Bob continued laughing as his friends swooped by, picking up the paraphernalia scattered across the ski run. Other skiers whooshed by, yelling encouragement and support for the spectacular show.

  Convinced that Billy Bob was fine and even pleased with himself, Lisa moved to the side of the run and resumed her trudge up the hill. The trail of paw prints left the groomed ski trail and went off into one of the out-of-bounds areas filled with deep snow that blanketed the huge trees.

  A orange plastic snow fence marked the out-of-bounds area and Lisa could tell that Harley had shoved his way under the floppy material. She pulled the fence up and crawled under. The dog was nowhere to be seen and Lisa was already cold, wet, and utterly exhausted. Too bad Mom and Dad didn’t have a hot tub at the house. If she ever made it down off this mountain, maybe she’d suggest adding one as part of the big remodeling project.

  She stopped to rest again and turned at the sound of a demanding dog bark. Was Harley hurt? The bark had an urgent tone and Lisa hurried forward as fast as she could through the deep snow. It was packed down with a thick layer of new powder on top, so she had some footing, but it was slow going. At least Harley had blazed a trail for her.

  Up ahead, Lisa could see the dog standing next to a tree. Harley’s sharp bark had evolved into an insistent, repetitive woofing. At least he’d finally stopped running, so Lisa had a chance of finally catching this animal. Her lungs hurt from the unaccustomed exertion and puffs of steam surrounded her. If she survived this expedition, she was taking up an exercise program. No more excuses. This was pathetic. She was a former world-class skier and now she could barely even walk uphill.

  As Lisa got closer to the dog, she spotted something in the snow near Harley. Was that a ski? “Harley, be quiet and get over here. I’m dying of exhaustion. What are you doing?”

  Harley refused to move and continued to bark, so Lisa trudged on. She picked up the ski as she walked by, dragging it behind her. Someone would be really glad to get that back, although hauling it down the hill with her and Harley wasn’t going to be a lot of fun.

  A dark shape came into view behind Harley. What was that? Lisa hurried closer and Harley bounded toward her, then backward, encouraging her to move more quickly. As she approached, her stomach clenched when she encountered a trail of bloodstained snow and then a person’s body. Kneeling down, she pulled off the skier’s goggles and looped them over her arm. The man was unconscious and bleeding from the head. Even worse, one of his legs was contorted in a way that indicated it must be badly broken, possibly in multiple places.

  The sight of the man’s leg was all too familiar, but having her own little mental meltdown out here in the snow wouldn’t help this poor injured skier. Lisa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shove down her emotions.

  Before she’d become the mother of twin girls, she’d been squeamish about many things. Now almost nothing could gross her out. Fortunately, she wasn’t terrified by the sight of blood like her daughter Carol. Years ago, when Carol’s twin Cheryl had fallen and needed stitches on her chin, Lisa was asked to remove Carol from the building, since the screaming wasn’t helping anyone’s stress level. Fortunately, Mike had been there to tend to Cheryl. Having a doctor in the family had been useful during emergencies like that one. Well, when he’d been around anyway.

  Lisa opened her eyes and took a deep breath, pushing aside memories of her husband and kids. She needed to focus. Harley was lying next to the man, licking his face. Lisa rummaged in her bag. In one of the pockets she found an old silk scarf that had been her mother’s. Mom sometimes used it to cover her hair when it was windy.

  Lisa folded the scarf and wiped away the blood, pushing a clump of dark brown hair off the man’s forehead, revealing the wound. Fortunately, the cut didn’t seem to be deep. Maybe he’d been scraped up by the trees.

  Lisa gasped when the man moved. He opened his eyes and shoved Harley’s nose away from his face. She leaned over him and looked into his face. The color of his eyes was a startling blue, almost the same shade as the brilliant blue winter sky above them. She gently put her hand on his chest. “Don’t try to move. You might have hurt your back.”

  He groaned and said in a raspy voice, “Leg.”

  “Yes, I think you hurt your leg. It looks like a type of injury I’ve seen before. Please try and lie still.”

  “Who are you?” He moved his hand feebly at Harley, “Where did this dog come from. Yuck—stop licking me, dog!”

  “I’m Lisa and that’s Harley. He found you. I need to get help. You’re way out of bounds and no one can see you here from the ski runs.”

  He closed his eyes again and Lisa touched his shoulder. “What’s your name?”

  “Pete.”

  “Don’t go to sleep, Pete. You need to stay awake.”

  “But I’m tired.”

  Lisa pressed the scarf to his forehead more firmly to get his attention. “Pete, look at me. Tell me what happened.”

  “I went the wrong way and then I caught my ski.”

  She moved the scarf and put her other hand on his cheek. “Pete, talk to me! What happened then?”

  “It felt like I was rolling off a cliff or something. I don’t know really. It’s all kind of a blur.”

  Lisa had a good idea where he must have fallen and what had happened. “All right. We need to get you back to the village.”

  He moved experimentally and cringed. “Great idea. What are you going to do, carry me?”

  “No, I’ll get help. It will be faster if I use one of your skis.” She looked around and spotted the poles nearby, and dug in the snow to find his feet. “Can you wiggle your toes or move this leg?”

  He moved his leg toward her. “Yeah, that one is okay. I don’t think I hurt my back. It’s just the other leg…”

  “Okay, that’s good. Try not to think about it.” At least he didn’t appear to have a spinal injury. She dug around in the snow, undid the latches on his ski boot, pulled it off, and gently moved his foot into her bag. “This will keep your foot warm until I get back. Please hang onto Harley’s collar and don’t let go.”


  He raised his eyebrows in question, but did as instructed while Lisa began unwinding the plaid wool scarf from her neck.

  Pete leaned his head back in the snow and closed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t close your eyes!” She shook his shoulder and went for her most stern mom voice. “I mean it. Don’t you dare shut your eyes again.”

  “I’m tired. Why not?”

  “Because I said so! Harley will keep you company while I go get the ski patrol. They’ll come up here on a snowmobile with a toboggan to get you out of here. I promise it won’t take long.”

  “Right. Though this be madness, yet there is method in ‘t.”

  She wrapped the scarf around her foot and paused to look at him. At least his eyes were open. Was he quoting Shakespeare? Maybe this guy was a delirious English teacher or something. “Pete, pay attention to me. Your job is to stay awake. Hold onto Harley’s collar so he doesn’t try to follow me, although he spent so much time trying to get to you, I doubt he’ll go anywhere. But don’t lose him or I’ll be in big trouble.”

  He nodded. “What’s with the scarf?”

  Lisa finished wrapping the scarf around her foot, stuffed it into the boot, and latched it closed. She got up and limped around the area collecting the ski poles. “You have big feet. I don’t know where the other ski ended up, so this one will have to do.”

  Pete moved and groaned slightly. “What are you doing?”

  “I told you. I’m getting help the fastest way I can. Walking is too slow.” Lisa jammed her booted foot into the ski binding and felt the familiar snap as it engaged. “Once I get back to the ski run, it will only take me about five minutes to get down the hill. After I find the ski patrol, they can get back to you in a few minutes on a snow machine. I’ll be gone maybe twenty minutes, tops. So I need you to hold onto Harley’s collar and stay awake for twenty minutes. Can you do that for me?”