Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) Page 7

  “Nice to meet you,” she said smiling.

  I could tell Pat was a little bored with the niceties.

  “Long Islands?” Pat asked.

  I winked at him and he headed towards the bar.

  “Long Island?” Mom questioned.

  “It’s a drink,” Andy volunteered

  “Try it, Mom. You’ll like it,” I said, encouraging her.

  Pat was standing at the bar when I saw Ryan crest the stairs. He stopped and searched the bar, looking for us. He looked attractive in his jeans, button-down shirt, cowboy boots, and his cowboy hat. Liz and I had called it his going-out attire. When he saw me, he smiled and headed in our direction. I stood up and hugged him. Even though I hadn’t known him very long, it felt like I had. Like we’d shared some memorable, important times together. When I let him go, he took off his hat and shook out his hair a bit where the hat had pushed it down.

  “Hey, Ryan,” Andy said as he departed towards the bar.

  Ryan smiled at him, lifting his chin slightly in acknowledgement.

  “Ryan, this is my mom, Patty,” I said, introducing her.

  “Nice to meet you, Ryan,” Mom said excitedly.

  I knew she felt like she was on a big adventure. With her two kids, two of her favorite people, a new place, and no husband.

  “Morgan, get one of these,” Pat called out as he made his way back from the bar, juggling the three drinks.

  I pried one out of his fingers and helped him get a handle on the other two.

  “How’s it going, Ryan?” Pat asked as he handed Mom her Long Island.

  “Starting her off with the light stuff, I see,” Ryan chuckled.

  “Ah, she’s practiced, won’t faze her.”

  “Don’t tell her what’s in it,” I teased. “See if she can tell.”

  The three of us watched as she took a sip.

  “It’s tasty,” she said, fumbling in her purse for her cigarettes—the two went hand in hand for her.

  She found the pack and pulled it out before she took another sip.

  “Um, maybe vodka, lemonade, and then something else?”

  “Go easy on those, Patty, they’re all alcohol,” Ryan warned.

  She set her drink down and lit her cigarette with her lighter.

  “Am I close?”

  “Sort of,” Pat said. “Tastes like that, but it’s all booze, five ounces of it.”

  Her eyebrow went up as she took a drag and then blew the smoke toward the fireplace. She tried to keep it away from me because she knew I didn’t like it.

  “I’m going to grab a beer,” Ryan said, starting to get up.

  “Sit, sit,” Pat said, turning back towards the bar. “I’ll get it.”

  “Back for round two, are you?” he asked, looking at me. “Round two of Park City.”

  “I guess. I like it here. Mom was coming to visit Pat, and I got to tag along,” I said.

  I’d asked her not to say anything about the possibility I might move here. I needed time to make my decision. He smiled at me and his eyes danced in the firelight.

  “Ryan, what brought you to Park City?” Mom asked.

  “It’s a long story,” he answered turning to look at her.

  “I’ve got the time,” she said seriously.

  I laughed. We talked by the fire for several hours. Mom was full of questions for Ryan. Ryan answered her and every now and then got up to throw a log on the fire—he’d taken over Andy’s job. I sat back and listened. Ryan was raised in upstate New York on a farm. Out of four boys, he was the only one who had left his small hometown. He wanted more.

  “So you just up and left after graduation?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah, needed a change, wanted to experience other places,” Ryan said.

  Mom looked at me with a slight grin.

  “So were did you go?”

  He started out in Florida because he knew people there and got a job at a charter jet company. He worked as a lineman moving, fueling, and cleaning planes. Being around the airport gave him the desire to fly, so he started working on obtaining his pilot’s license.

  “That’s cool,” Pat said.

  “It was cool, flying was so fun, sad I had to give it up,” Ryan said regretfully. “Maybe someday I’ll finish what I started there. It’s just so expensive.”

  There was a vague mention of a girl that he had dated. She was the daughter of the owner of the company he’d worked for. After he’d given up flying a buddy talked him into moving to Virginia and starting a construction company.

  “So wait,” Mom said, “you went from learning to fly to construction?”

  I sat listening, interested in Ryan’s own adventure in leaving home.

  “Well, I sort of always had done construction, even when I was young. Housing was booming, and my buddy had contacts in Virginia. Line men don’t make much money, and the money was going to be better in building,” Ryan said.

  I almost laughed because she kept peppering him with questions. Her lack of social interaction was being unleashed on Ryan, and he was being so patient.

  “So your girlfriend went to Virginia with you, but didn’t stay long,” Mom pondered.

  “She missed her family too much. I’d partnered in a business so it wasn’t easy for me to just pick up again and leave.”

  He talked about leaving Virginia when the economy crashed, interest rates had gone through the roof, the housing market was bad and the business was failing.

  “Can I get you guys another round?” the waitress interrupted.

  “Sure,” I answered for everyone.

  Mom pulled out a cigarette, and Ryan politely lit it for her. I watched as she took a drag. I had smoked when I was younger, experimenting I guess, but I couldn’t stand it now. The thought of sucking that smoke into your lungs; I wished she didn’t smoke.

  “So when the business went under, you came to Park City?” Mom asked.

  I was starting to feel bad for Ryan; she was loving the conversation, but I thought she might be making him uncomfortable.

  “Mom, give him a break,” I exclaimed.

  Some of Pat’s other friends showed up just then, and conversation shifted in all directions. I was a bit relieved that Ryan was taken out of the spotlight. I caught his eye and smiled. He seemed relaxed, so maybe it hadn’t bothered him. The fire crackled and popped in the background, and more chairs got pulled over. Mom was trying to learn every new arrival’s story, having a good time, and I was happy about that.

  When we left the bar she was a bit unsteady on her feet, I could tell the altitude and the Long Islands had gotten to her. I hooked my arm through hers while we weaved our way to the car. The air was cold and crisp, and new snow covered the ground making the street look beautiful. The cold burned my nose slightly when I breathed it in.

  “That Ryan, what a nice guy! I wish you would date someone like that,” she slurred as we walked.

  “Pat or me?” I teased.

  Pat laughed. We knew she was a little drunk.

  “Don’t be silly. You, of course,” she garbled, turning robotically to me. “He seems like such a gentleman.”

  “I have a boyfriend, Mom,” I reminded.

  “Did you see how his eyes sparkled when he looks at you?” she said, ignoring me.

  “No, I didn’t see his eyes sparkle,” I chuckled. “Maybe it was the Long Island goggles you had on.”

  Pat laughed again.

  “The what?” she asked.

  “We need to get her to bed,” I said, laughing.

  “I’m fine,” she slurred, getting into Pat’s car. “I think you both are making fun of me.”

  “We would never do that, Mom,” Pat said stifling a laugh.

  Once we got Mom settled in Pat’s room and got over our giggles, Pat and I headed to bed in the bunkroom.

  “You take the top, I’m afraid I might fall out,” I said feeling the Long Islands myself.

  I snuggled into the bottom bunk as Pat climbed the small ladd
er. The upper bunk creaked as he settled in.

  “Night,” he said.

  “Good night. Thanks Pat, nice evening.”

  I’d enjoyed learning more about Ryan. Found it exciting that he, like Pat, were willing to take on a new place. It made me even surer about what I should do.

  “Morgan,” Pat said, shaking me gently. “Wake up sleeping beauty, it’s time to hit the hill.”

  I opened my eyes slowly. It seemed like I had just gone to bed. How can it possibly be morning? Daylight spilled in from the window, so it obviously was. Goddamn it was bright. I rolled over away from it and pulled the covers tightly around me.

  “Get me some water, Pat,” I pleaded, feeling parched.

  God, even my eyes felt dry. I listened as he left the room, could hear him fumbling in the kitchen, and then he returned with a glass of water.

  “Get up, let’s go. I don’t get that many full days to ski,” Pat chided.

  “Okay, I’m getting up,” I groaned as I rolled over and sat up, my head feeling foggy.

  “You know Sis about running with the big dogs right?” he asked smiling, as he handed me the glass.

  Pat dragged me all over the mountain, skiing, one run after the other. By lunchtime, my head had cleared, but my legs were like Jell-O. When he finally let us break for lunch, it was after one, and my stomach growled when I could smell the burgers grilling out on the deck as we walked up the stairs to the lodge.

  “Burger?” I asked Pat.

  “You get the burgers, I’ll get the pitcher,” he said.

  I ordered two burgers and fries and gave the cashier my name. As I waited for our order, I leaned up against the railing, watching people on the huge, sun-drenched deck. As cold as it was, the heat of the sun soon spread across my face and sank into my body, loosening my tight muscles. I watched as the cook flipped the sizzling burgers on the large open grill and my stomach gurgled again.

  “Bob,” he called out putting several plates up.

  Watching Bob come pick up the burgers I wondered how far he’d been ahead of me. I looked around, trying to distract me from my stomach and noticed the Snow Hut Lodge’s A-frame construction. All the wood and logs and beams certainly made for a picturesque setting, even if there wasn’t much room inside. I was glad for the large deck and a sunny day.

  “Morgan,” the cook shouted out.

  Startled out of my reverie, I picked up our food and made my way carefully back to where Pat had found a table. Walking in ski boots was awkward, and with my legs so fatigued, I was nervous I might stumble.

  “It’s such a beautiful day,” I sighed, setting the tray down with relief.

  I loosened the buckles on my ski boots and then sat down on the side of the table that faced the sun. I raised my face towards the sun welcoming it’s warmth. Pat set a full glass of beer in front of me.

  “I’m starving,” I said, doctoring up my burger. “You kicked my ass.”

  “I told you. Can’t waste a day off, especially a day like today,” Pat said.

  We both dove into the food and the beer. The beer especially tasted good to me, cold and refreshing.

  “You gonna stay in Park City? I mean, after the season?” I asked.

  I dipped a fry in ketchup and popped it in my mouth.

  “I think so. I really like it here. Not sure what kind of work there will be for me in the summer, but I’m sure I can find something. Maybe Ryan can hook me up with some construction stuff,” Pat said.

  “Pat, I’m moving here next ski season,” I said quickly, not sure what his response would be.

  It took him a minute for it to register and then his eyes got big.

  “You’re shitting me, right?” he asked.

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “You’d leave Max, your job, college?” Pat asked. “What the fuck, Morgan? You’ve always had your life in order, unlike your little bro. What happened?”

  “I need a radical change. The accident woke me up. I don’t want to wake up at fifty and feel like I followed all the rules, like I never experienced anything,” I said.

  “What about Max?” Pat asked.

  “He can either wait or not. I’m tired of his attitude, like I’ll always be there. Always do the things he wants to do. Ever since I wrecked his Blazer, I’ve spent more time looking at our relationship. I don’t think it’s that great, like somehow we’ve gotten disconnected. And we argue a lot about stupid things,” I said.

  Pat picked up the pitcher and filled my empty glass. He poured slowly, just leaving a little foam at the top.

  “Remember Melanie’s wedding?” I asked. “I didn’t stay with Gayle; I actually stayed with Mathew.”

  I took a sip of my beer and waited. We had always been close, shared all our secrets.

  “No way,” he spit out. “Like together, you slept with him?”

  I smiled. Pat knew enough about Mathew and me to figure it out.

  “Sounds like Miss Goody Two Shoes hasn’t been so good lately, crashing into a telephone pole, and then cheating on her boyfriend. The shoes get lost or something?” he asked, chuckling.

  I pushed my empty plate away and looked again towards the sun.

  “So you’re really serious about coming next season?”

  “I am. I’ve always been the one who’s done all the things I thought were expected of me. Well, almost always, I mean, for Mom and Dad. What next? Get married and have babies, then wake up one day and say what the fuck have I done? I think I need to live a little. Get closer to the edge, like you have,” I said.

  “Mom and Dad are going to shit,” he said shaking his head.

  Even though I had been wild in my younger years, my parents didn’t suspect it. What they saw was the good student who did what she was told. I made it to eighteen before I finally got caught big—the time I was driving their car under the influence and was stopped. I’d spent a harrowing night in jail in downtown San Diego. That’s when I knocked myself off the pedestal. It’s also when I started being completely open with my mom.

  Chapter 7

  Over the next eight months I prepared myself for the move. I finished school, spread the news, and finally quit my job. Pat was right: Mom and Dad were shocked. But they totally surprised me when they both thought it was a great idea. I had thought I might get some backlash about leaving school, and I thought Mom would hate the fact that I was moving so far away. Instead, without stating the obvious, they both saw it as a way for me to get out of the rut I was in.

  Max couldn’t believe I would make such a rash decision. He did what he typically did if I pulled away from him: he tried to pull me back, wanted me not to go. Liz encouraged me any time I had my doubts.

  I flew back to Utah in October to find a place to live and secure a job when I got another shock: Pat decided he would rather live with me than anyone else. I think, even though he was my little brother, he wanted to make sure I was safe. Ryan picked me up at the airport because Pat’s car was acting up.

  “Hey,” he said, jumping out of his van to grab my small bag and giving me a quick hug.

  He opened my door gentlemanly like and I climbed in.

  “You ready for this?” he asked with a smile.

  “Totally ready,” I said eagerly, rubbing my palms together.

  “Pat tells me this move is out of character for you,” he said, putting the van in drive. “How does everyone back home feel about it?”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said with confidence. “Mom and Dad are excited for me. Liz thinks it awesome. Max doesn’t like it. Or should I say, he doesn’t like the fact that I made a decision without his approval. He thinks I’ll change my mind.”

  I thought about all the comments Max had made over the last few months. Many encouraging me to stay, even to the point of wanting to talk more seriously about where we were headed. It was too late though; I’d made up my mind. I agreed to not break-up and just try the winter away.

  “Pat didn’t think you would come. He said you would go
home and get over it,” Ryan said as he glanced over at me, a question in his eyes.

  “Pat should know better than to bet against me,” I said defiantly.

  Ryan spent the next few days running me around town looking at places to rent.

  “There’s so few that are furnished,” I said in frustration after viewing another empty unit.

  “I know, and they move quickly this time of year,” Ryan said. “When you find one you like you best jump on it.”

  I knew Pat wouldn’t care what it looked like as long as he had a place to crash. I finally found a duplex with two bedrooms and a loft and signed the lease for November first. It was a little early, but I didn’t want to lose it, especially since it had a hot tub and a fireplace.

  Ryan took me to The Club after I signed the lease to celebrate. We sat at the bar, on the stools where Liz and I first met him. Ryan ordered us beers. He seemed upbeat that he’d been able to help me. Maybe even happy I was officially coming to town.

  “Are you still bartending at night?” I asked idly.

  While I doodled in the wet ring my glass had left on the bar I glanced around. The bar was quiet except for the music playing, only two other single guys sitting at the far end.

  “No, I gave it up. I’ve gotten too busy doing construction and tending bar took away any chance of a personal life.”

  “Girls,” I teased.

  “Girls, whatever… I needed some free time,” Ryan said with a smile.

  My mom’s comment about how his eyes had sparkled the night in front of the fire came into my mind.

  “Tell me again, Ryan, how you ended up here. I remember the business failing in Virginia, and then I can’t remember the connection here,” I said.

  “Carrie’s dad, the girl I dated, started a snowmobiling company here, and he asked me if I wanted to run it. I had dated her for years, and her family really liked me. In fact, it was her father’s airport services company I worked for in Florida,” he said.

  “Why did he start a snowmobiling company here?”

  “They had a second home here, he was pretty entrepreneurial, but he also like to the fly them out in his Lear jet. I think it was an excuse to be able to write everything off.”