Page 3 of Wild and Unruly
For the first time since I ran to my boss with my new story idea, I was feeling rather lackluster that the job required me to travel four hours from home and that I would have to stay in a—kill me now—lodge in the middle of the mountains.
I stand outside the large building, admiring the craftsmanship of the front porch that spanned the entire size of the building itself.
A puff of air leaves me, and I long for the day when following that hot air is the steam that comes from cold, fall air.
Summer was too hot.
I cross my arms, leaning against my truck, and take in the space around me. There was a large parking area out front, and Isnagged a spot in the first row, all the way down at the end. I was unsure if this was even the place I was supposed to be. It was hidden around many bends in the Colorado Rockies, and its sign was practically nonexistent behind the pine and aspen trees.
This part of Colorado was gorgeous and made me remember why people were obsessed with it. When they thought “Colorado,” it was all the fresh mountain air, the hiking, the skiing, and snowboarding. Sitting by a window as snow fell and drinking hot cocoa. That was a reality for a lot of people—especially those who lived in these mountains—but for those on the foothills or Denver in the metro area, that was far from the reality.
I huff a breath and hoist my work bag over my shoulder—I never go anywhere without it—and head into the building.
“Hi, welcome to The Lodge.” The bubbly woman behind the desk greets me as I take in the room around me. The walls are made log cabin style, giving a cozy feel to the room, and the handcrafted desk fits the rustic vibe the place gives off.
Not to mention, this place is huge. Not quite the little log cabin I was expecting when I booked my stay.
“The Lodge,” I repeat, holding my phone with my registration confirmation on it. My rolled suitcase was still in the back seat of my truck with the hope that a burly mountain man would come and snatch it up for me, carrying it to my room. “Very original name.”
The girl’s smile faltered, and I felt bad at the quip. I forget all the time that my humor is…not for everyone.
“Tracy, everything okay?” The young girl turns to the side, and I glance over where another woman has walked behind thecounter. She’s short with brown hair, but her eyes are tense and serious, negating the smile on her face.
“Yes, fine, I was just going to get her checked in.” She nods at me, and I smile, turning on my reporter grin that wins everyone over.
Usually.
I clear my throat at the frosty glare the woman gives me and look between her and the young girl. I realize now that if I’d paid a bit more attention, I would have noticed that the girlwasyoung. Like teen young, and my humor was probably not very humorous to her.
“I’ve got her.” She nudges the girl playfully, and Tracy smiles. “Why don’t you go refill the lounge bar?”
The girl, Tracy, nods and makes her way out of the large room and through the door, taking her from sight. I turn my face back to the lady and see she’s waiting for me to speak.
“Ah, hi, I’m Bonnie Helix. I made a reservation.” I try to give her a friendly look, realizing that if these were the people hosting me, I’d better keep my dark humor and quips to myself.
The woman doesn’t reply as she starts to look me up on her computer. I tap my finger against my bag, waiting with a tinge of nerves I haven’t felt in a while as she does so. This woman has to be a mom because the last time I felt this way, my mother was looking up my scores through a competition I entered.
“Right, here you are, Bonnie Helix. Check-in is now. Check-out is…” The woman raises an eyebrow, glancing over at me. “You didn’t put a check-out date?”
“Well, I’m here for work,” I explain. “I’m not sure how long it will take me. Do I need to do a check out date?”
She eyes me for a second, then shrugs and clicks something on her computer. “Well, then the room is all ready for you.”
“Perfect.” I reach into my bag and hand over my essentials, waiting patiently for her to run everything through her system.
“What kind of work are you here for? We’re not usually big on office conferences.”
“You should be,” I say, glancing around the ornate lobby. “This place is massive. It would be perfect for work retreats.”
She looks over at me, glancing around quickly at the room before she goes back to her computer. “You didn’t say why you were here.”
The comment is accusatory, and since there is no reason for me to hide what I’m doing, I answer her. “I’m here to write an article on a local couple. They specialize in a certain discipline of horses, and the wife works with disabled kids.”
“CT and Dani, you mean?” The woman looks me over and nods. “Ah. You’re the reporter fromHorse Universe.”
I blink and then slowly nod my head, “Right. How do you?—”
“One thing you should know about this town: Everyone knows everything about everyone.” She lifts a brow and smiles, a little bit kinder than she was before. “But we’re excited about what the article could do for their business. They’ve worked hard and deserve the recognition.”
