A Promise of Fireflies by Susan Haught

Author:Susan Haught [Haught, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Women's Fiction
Publisher: Four Carat Press
Published: 2016-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

DRIVING THE MOUNTAINOUS curves into Estes Park in the BMW X5 was the ultimate, but dwarfed in comparison when Ryleigh spied the conspicuous spire of the Stanley Hotel rising against the scabrous mountain backdrop. Nestled into the Rocky Mountain foothills, the hotel stood stark white against the gray mountains, its brick-red roof a bloody contrast to the evergreens.

Her spine tingled. “This is crazy cool,” she muttered, recalling the Overlook Hotel from Stephen King’s The Shining. And wasn’t the second film shot there? The image shrank in the rearview mirror and she craned her neck for one last peek. “I must see this place close up.”

As the miles passed, the snow deepened and the evergreens thickened. The majestic snow-capped peaks of the Rockies loomed around her, as if hand-painted against a cloud-studded blue canvas sky.

Ryleigh turned onto a narrow, snow-packed road, pulled over, and engaged the four-wheel drive. She wiped her palms on her jeans, cinched her fingers around the steering wheel, and then drove cautiously along the forest road.

Douglas fir, blue spruce and groves of leafless aspen draped the road in shadow. The first sight of the resort breached the palisade of trees, and for the first time since she left the asphalt, she allowed herself to relax. A wooden bridge crossed the rapids of Fall River and into a valley of provincial-style log cabins and one massive log-sided building she presumed to be the lobby. She pulled up and parked, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and stepped into the brisk mountain air. The river rippled to the energetic squeals of children caught in the crossfire of a snowball fight.

Ryleigh slipped, caught her balance, and then walked cautiously to the entrance. A rustic Whisper of the Pines sign hung over the entrance and images of the surrounding valley were carved into heavy oak doors. Inside, massive log beams laced themselves across a high cathedral ceiling, and windows rose floor to ceiling on one side.

“Welcome to Whisper of the Pines Resort,” a boisterous voice rang out. “Your winter wonderland at the base of the Rockies.”

Startled away from the view, Ryleigh turned. The woman’s eyes sparkled amid an aged face that had seen too much sun over the years. “I’m Rose, your hostess for the weekend. What can I help you with today?”

Ryleigh recognized the name and smiled back. “Hello, Rose. I’m Ryleigh Collins,” she said, pushing a wayward strand of hair behind an ear.

“Of course you are!” Rose extended a pair of robust arms and swallowed Ryleigh in a welcoming hug. “Natalie told me all about you. Welcome.”

“She conned me into taking her place.”

“We’re thrilled to have you,” she said, patting Ryleigh’s hands enthusiastically, “and you’ll be delighted you came.”

“This place is gorgeous.”

“It is, indeed. The new owners have made some marvelous improvements. It’s amazing what the Cavanaughs—what Logan, I should say, does with his resorts. It’s a Cinderella story—from ordinary to exquisite. He has quite an instinct. A Midas touch if you will.”

“A lot like Nat and Mitch.”

Rose threw her arms in the air.

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