Chapter 6
Parker pressed the doorbell and waited. He’d left the truck running, with the heater cranked up to high for Leon, but cracked the window an inch, just in case. He hated arriving at such a late hour, but it couldn’t be helped. The old Ford pickup truck maxed out at fifty-five miles an hour. After stopping for gas and a quick bite, he’d taken his time, and it had gotten away from him. It had been almost midnight when he’d pulled into the deserted parking lot at Maximum Glide.
He’d only just stepped out of his truck when he’d seen the woman slip when she heard Leon’s cry of misery. Lucky for them both, instinct kicked in, and he’d caught her in the nick of time. Another second and she would’ve smacked her head against the icy asphalt. The last thing he wanted to do on his self-imposed sabbatical was step back into the role of medical doctor. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to return to Angel of Mercy at all. Maybe he’d just enjoy being a ski bum for a while. He and Leon could hang tight on the slopes indefinitely. He wondered if they made skis for cats. Something to look into later.
Before he could pursue the thought of life without the responsibilities of being a doctor, the door opened. A heavyset man with a white beard and rosy cheeks stood to the side. “You must be Dr. North. Max said you were coming this evening. I figured you’d be late, too. The weather and such.”
Parker smiled, then stepped inside out of the cold. The old man held out a hand to him. “Thanks for waiting,” Parker said. “I just took my time; I guess I should have phoned ahead.”
“Not to worry. I’m up. Just checked in that actress from New York City. Poor girl drove all the way from Denver.”
“She must be the woman I saw in the parking lot,” Parker said out loud.
“I would suspect she is. Now, I have instructions to personally drive you to your condo. Max said you would probably be arriving in a beat-up old truck that wouldn’t make the climb.”
Parker laughed. Figures. Max remembered everything. “Yeah, I still have the old truck, but I’m sure she can make it up the mountain. There’s no need for you to bother. It’s late and cold. If you’ll just give me the directions, I’m sure I can find my way.” He didn’t add that he had an angry feline in the truck. No, he’d keep that tidbit of info to himself. As long as Max was okay with it, then that’s all that mattered.
The old man, unnamed at that point, pondered his words. “If you’re sure. I’d hate for you to get lost. The weather gets mighty cold at high altitudes. You sure your truck can make it?”
No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure of anything other than that he was dead tired and wanted to lie down and forget about the day, but Parker wasn’t totally without social skills. “I’m sure. She’s in the best shape ever. Just had a new transmission installed last winter.”
The old man nodded. “Yep, that’ll make it up the mountain, no doubt. Now, if you’ll just look at this.” He produced a single sheet of paper. “If you follow this road”—he traced a thin white line with a yellow highlighter pen—“then turn here. The condo unit Max has reserved for you is the best. The penthouse. It’s smack-dab in the middle of the mountain. You’ll have access to the private ski lift. There are skis and boots of every size waiting for you. Max wasn’t sure you’d have them, so he took a few guesses and had Candy Lee pick out several pairs. She works at the Snow Zone—that’s the ski shop around the corner. The kid picked out the best of the best and left them next to the fireplace. There’s a boot warmer inside, too. Make sure and use it. Most people don’t and then don’t find out until it’s too late that it’s lots of work puttin’ on a cold boot. Boots slide right on when they’re warm. Remember that.”
“I will, thanks,” Parker said. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that but was glad for the reminder.
“Well, then you’d better get goin’ while you can. I’ll let Max know you arrived first thing in the mornin’. He said he was coming to pick you up for supper tomorrow. I’m sure Grace and Ella will be with him, too. Probably the other girls, as well.”
Parker stopped.
Other girls?
It would be just like Max to try and fix him up without giving him a chance to explain that the last thing on his mind was women. No, he’d better give the old man a message for Max. “Tell Max I’m flying solo now and prefer to keep it that way. I don’t want to see any girls,” he said, a bit abruptly, but he wanted the man to understand that when he relayed his message to Max, he was serious. He was there to relax and reevaluate his future, not entangle himself in a winter romance.
The old guy chuckled, hearty and warm. He shook his big head from side to side. “He didn’t tell you about the girls, did he?”
“No, he neglected to tell me about the girls.”
“They’re Stephanie’s kids. She’s the manager at Snow Zone. They usually ride up with Max and Grace when they get the chance. Ashley and Amanda. Both smart as a whip. Max’ll want you to ski with them while you’re here, too.”
Parker felt as though he’d been poked with a pin, and all the life drained from him.
Kids? The girls were kids!
Maybe Max had changed after all.
“Sure, I guess I’m up for meeting a couple of kids,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Relief flowed like oxygen throughout his veins.
“You best get started. It takes about forty-five minutes to make it up the mountain in the daylight, a little longer at night.”
Parker nodded, took the sheet of paper with the map off the counter. He turned for the door, then stopped. “You never told me your name.”
The older man shifted his eyes up, then down. “No, I reckon I didn’t.”
Suspicious, Parker waited. The man shoved his large hands inside his pants pockets. “Aww, you’ll just laugh like everyone else does. The name’s Nick. Nicholas Star.”
For a second, Parker thought the old guy was teasing him, but when he saw the red flush creep across his face, he knew he was serious. Having a somewhat unusual name himself, Parker just nodded, then spoke. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Star. I’ll see you around.”
Blue eyes sparkled, and Parker would’ve sworn Mr. Star’s belly shook just like Clement C. Moore described in “ ’Twas the Night Before Christmas.”