Going For Gold

Chapter Four

"Jesus, it's cold." I shivered, shoving my hands into my pockets as I followed Harry off the gondola. It was warmer than yesterday but the wind at the top of the mountain was unbearable. I was not cut out for this type of weather anymore.

"What?" Harry chuckled. "The California kid isn't cut out for the cold weather?"

"No. I don't know why anyone would subject themselves to this kind of thing on a permanent basis." I was in Colorado for four years of college and that was enough for me. I could handle a visit every now and then, but as far as I was concerned anything less than fifty degrees was a death sentence.

"This is the last thing I have to do, I promise. And then we're free to go hang out in the village, drink way too much cheap beer and hit on all hot tourist girls." He winked as we traipsed through the snow and towards the Vail Valley Inn.

There were a few last minute errands that needed to happen in order to close down for the next few weeks, and I tagged along to help Harry. It wasn't like I had anything better to be doing, and the sooner he finished, the sooner the fun could begin.

"Preferably somewhere with a fire." I arched my eyebrow at him. Most of the errands were around town, but the last thing on his list was delivering mail to the Inn owner which brought us up here. "Tell me again why he doesn't come pick up his own mail like everybody else?"

Harry shrugged. "Hank's a friend of my aunt's, and he's got a lot going on. I've been helping him out for years."

I followed him up the trail, and we stomped the snow off of our boots on the porch. A gush of warm air hit us, and we went inside.

"Hi Harry!" An older man waved from behind the desk. "Sit down! I'll bring you guys some hot cocoa."

"Thanks Hank!" Harry waved back and gestured to a table near the fireplace. The Inn was like something out of a hallmark movie. It was warm and cozy, and there were people sitting all around doing puzzles and reading crime novels. There were huge panorama windows that overlooked the village with majestic, snowcapped peaks in the background. It felt like you could see for miles up here, and I could see why the Inn was so popular.

Hank himself looked like a character out of the movies with his flannel shirt and scruffy grey beard, delivering steaming cups of cocoa to his patrons. He knew everyone by name, and chatted with them as if they were the best of friends. It was sweet ad I appreciated the slower atmosphere in comparison to what was going on down in the village. it was. mad house down there, but the Inn was like a little slice of Heaven.

Before he got to us, he stopped at nearby table. "Hey Peter. How's it going? I didn't see you come in. Everything go good this morning?"

I realized he was talking to Pater Hawkins, one of the coaches for the US Alpine team.

"It went well." He said. "We're set for opening ceremonies, and once that's over, we can set our sights on qualifiers Friday."

Hank nodded. "Good to hear."

"Did Lylah come by here yesterday?"

"She did."

Lylah. I started to put the pieces together. Yesterday, Lylah said she was coming up here to visit her grandfather. Was that Hank?

Harry must have noticed my confusion. "Hank's granddaughter is Lylah Herring. You know, the girl who's racing with Kennedy this week?"

I nodded. With Kennedy? More like against. They may be on the same team, but they were teammates in the loosest sense of the word.

Peter started talking again. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but they were so close to us that it was hard to avoid. "How did she seem to you?"

Hank shrugged. "Seems little anxious."

"A little?" Peter's voice hitched. "Hank, she looked like she forgot how to ski the other day. If she's that in her head on Friday, I can't put her out there. She'll kill herself."

"I know." Hank let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe it's too soon. Maybe we rushed her back. She never used to get like this."

"We just have to find a way to calm her down. She'll be alright." Peter said. "She was great in the races before we came."

"Earth to Blake..." Harry slapped my shoulder. "Did you hear what I said? They have killer hot wings. Want to have some lunch before we head down?"

"Sure, sounds great." I said, turning my attention back to him. The conversation behind me continued, but I couldn't hear much more. It was interesting to me that they thought Lylah was nervous. All I could think about was her conversation yesterday with Hallie, and how she talked her right out of her fears. If Lylah herself was anxious, she certainly didn't show it.

"How's it going?" Hank said, appearing at our table and handing us two mugs from his tray. "The wind is getting a little nippy out there, isn't it?"

"Not too bad for us natives." Harry smirked. "Hank, this is my buddy, Blake. We were college roommates. He's in town visiting from San Diego."

"Nice to meet you, Blake." Hank shook my hand. "Probably don't have much weather like this back home."

"No sir, we do not." I chuckled. "But we don't have views quite like this either."

"Good point." He smiled. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go see if I can get the handyman up here to look at the hot water heater. Damn thing gave out on me again."

"Again?" Harry frowned. "DIdn't someone come up last week? Maybe it's time for a new one."

"You sound like my granddaughter."

"I could take a look at it if you want." I offered. I was no plumber but the little beach bungalow I rented was always having issues. Instead of paying an arm and a leg for a professional, I taught myself how to replace most things in it.

"You know how to fix a hot water heater?" Harry arched his eyebrow at me skeptically.

"More or less." I shrugged.

"Well, that's more than I know." Hank chuckled. "Come on back, I'll show you where it is!"