Ruby: A Western Historical Romance (Old Western Mail Order Bride Series Book 2)

by Amy Field

  “All set?” Pete startled her out of her musing. He was standing in the door with both smoothies again, sucking on his till she could hear it gurgle.

  “All set,” she affirmed, grabbing the cup and following him out the door and towards the hallway.

  Pete drilled her as they wandered down the hallway towards the elevator, and then eventually to the car which was waiting.

  “You have your answers prepped?”

  “I do.”

  “And how’d you manage your third consecutive national championship, despite being older than the rest of the competition?”

  “I worked harder and trained longer than I ever have before.”

  “And next year’s Olympics?”

  “Will be the best opportunity for me to show the world what an all-American girl can do when she sets her mind to it.”

  He smiled, opening the door to the limousine. “Yes, it will.” He closed as she entered, then ran around and got in the opposite side. “You’ve got this. Nervous at all?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Good, no need to be.” He tapped on the glass to let the driver know they were ready to go. Then, leaning forward on his knees he took her hands and said, “Katie, we did it. Three consecutive championships. Nobody’s ever done it before. Now all we need is that gold next year in…”

  But she’d already started to zone out. While she appreciated all of his help, one thing Katie couldn’t stand was other people talking credit for her accomplishments. Pete had not won a world championship, she had. The first time she’d been elated; the second mildly excited. Today she just felt non-plussed; there was no positive feeling, and no negative feeling either, exactly—just nothing.

  “Katie? Katie?” Pete snapped annoyingly at her. “Have you decided on what you’re doing?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “To celebrate. People will want to know. Are you spending another week in Cozumel?”

  She shook her head ruefully. The Cozumel trip had happened as part of an advertising deal with a shoe company. It had turned into a three week hangover. When she returned her times were the worst they’d been since high school.

  “No, not Cozumel.”

  “Ibiza, then?”

  She shook her head. “No, I was thinking more…” But before she got the chance to finish her sentence, the car came to a halt and the driver excited the limo in order to open the door for them.

  “Well,” Pete said, getting himself out and then reaching back for Katie. “Figure it out. You’ll likely be asked a dozen times today.”

  Katie nodded absently as she exited and immediately the flashes began. Like it or not, she was now “on” for the rest of the day. And she immediately began looking forward to getting back to bed.

  Reporters peppered her with questions as Pete made a way through the crowd for them. Katie’s parent’s, Ron and Debbie, met them at the door of the building and together they made their way through the crowded hallway and into the press room. A lectern had been set out on the stage and the two runners-up were already seated there in track suits similar to hers. A pair of skates had been set up on the table at which the coaches were sitting, and reporters already occupied all of the seats which were neatly lined in rows.

  Applause followed Katie as she approached and everyone on stage rose as she stepped up onto the platform. Even the two girls she’d beaten seemed to be smiling genuinely at her, but Katie knew that it was an act. All of these people were walking clichés and she was growing tired of it.

  The formal portion of the press conference lasted just over seven minutes. Pete gave a short speech and then invited Katie to read her prepared statement. Afterwards the two of them fielded questions, mostly about technique and training. One slightly ditzy reporter actually asked something about how Katie kept so much body in her hair. She replied with a joke which she’d only half-thought out, but it got the required response. One hand remained raised towards the back of the room. A small, thin reporter in a sweater vest and wearing large coke-bottle glasses stood up.

  “Given you newfound success and the time you’ve got between now and next year’s competition, what are you planning on doing to celebrate?”

  Katie chuckled to herself. She’d thought long and hard about this, and she knew it was going to raise some eyebrows, plus incur Pete’s wrath. Even still, she knew in her gut it was worth it.

  “Thanks for the question, Rob.” She made a point of memorizing the names of any journalist who was around more than once. They all knew her name, and she knew it threw them off if she could call them by theirs. “I do have some time before training begins in the fall. So, having missed most of my twenties due to skating…I’ve decided to take a break. I’m going backpacking—like serious backpacking, with a guide and everything. And I plan to return better, stronger, and braver than ever before to best represent the US on the national stage. Because the next time I win a gold medal,” She fingered the medallion around her neck. “It’s going to be for real.”

  She smiled as the applause erupted around her. Pete grimaced and gave her a hard look. She’d been considering this for a long time, but hadn’t told anybody yet. Now she knew she had made the right decision, and by committing to it publicly she effectively eliminated any possibility of Pete, or anyone else, talking her out of it. There were, she knew, adventures yet to be had, but they would involve a very different kind of life than the one she had known so far.

  Chapter 2

  Less than two weeks later Katie was on a flight to Europe, packed and ready to begin exploring the Swiss Alps. She didn’t know quite what she hoped to find while she was there, but she knew that there was something in her life of fame and fortune that had to go. Her career was stifling her spirit, making it impossible to breathe. She’d been living in a perpetual cycle of quid-pro-quo, tit-for-tat, this-for-that, and she was done. She was tired of people being nice to her because they could get nice things from her, and she was terrified that if she actually knew what all of her staff and so-called “friends” really thought of her, she’d probably the the loneliest girl in the world.

  The broad but not especially deep world of winter sports fanatics knew that she was taking time off to backpack through Europe, and her parents and Pete had her itinerary and knew where she would be the whole time, but she had decided that for the trip itself she would not broadcast her celebrity. She flew in coach class to France, then took the train to Zurich, and from there boarded a bus for the base camp in Saint-Gervais-les-Bains.

  She had deliberately not styled her hair since the press conference, preferring instead to comb it out each night before bed and wear it in a simple ponytail during the day. She packed no makeup with her apart from a tube of concealer, saved her contacts for an occasion when she might actually need them but traveled in her old glasses, which had large, black, horn-rimmed frames, and introduced herself as “Catherine” rather than “Katie”. So far as she could tell, not a single person so far had identified who she was, and she was very, very grateful.

  She had directions from the bus station to the hotel but wound up lost twice and eventually hailed a cab. The driver tried to make small talk with her, but his thick accent, heavy breathing, and mild body odor turned her off. “Is this what regular people have to deal with all of the time,” she wondered to herself. “Maybe I am better off where I’ve been.” Part of her wished that she had Pete and her limo and her driver and her people, but another, deeper part of her knew this is why she had come. She chose instead to feign interest; she asked the driver about his wife, his family, their home and their children. Within minutes they were chatting pleasantly and might even have missed the turnoff of the base of the mountain hadn’t come into such stunning view.

  The vista took her breath away. The base of the mountain was covered in a dense blanket of green vegetation, but as the slopes rose the trees grew more and more sparse, with the sides of the mountain growing grey, then snow-colored, and finally a pristine white c
ap on top of a peak half-hidden by the fog. Katie rolled down her window to get a better perspective.

  “Is beautiful, no?” The cab driver said.

  For her part, Katie was mostly speechless. She stammered for a time and then managed, “I, uh, yes, absolutely marvelous.” The mountain was at once both beautiful and ominous; the thought of conquering such a giant was both exhilarating and terrifying.

  The driver pulled up to the door of the hotel, situated at the entrance to the mountain’s base camp, and parked. Katie didn’t even wait for him to get out and help her. She simply popped the door, slung her backpack on, and leaned into the passenger side window, which was only half-open.

  “Thanks for the ride, Hugo,” she said. “I hope Rene has a better soccer season this year.” He was surprised she had listened so closely, but as grateful for the care as well as for the generous tip.

  The hotel itself was little more than a ski-lodge, but the lobby was cozy and beautifully appointed. The concierge came out from behind the front counter and greeted her personally.

  “Ms. Cory?” he said, extending his hand. “Bienvenue. Welcome to our Hotel.”

  She raised up her hand. “It’s just Catherine. And really there’s no need for any special treatment. In fact, I’m kind of trying to low-key things on this trip so…”

  The older man looked at her hand disdainfully and said in firm but confused-sounding voice. “Of course. I did not mean to offer any special treatment. I simply wanted to offer to have your bag taken to your room. It’s just that, you’re late and the rest of your party is already in the midst of their orientation.”

  Katie flushed with shame. Of course this random Swiss hotel manager would not know her. He was actually trying to help her avoid embarrassment since she was the one who was late. She thought about explaining the directions, but then shrugged, thanked the man, and followed him to one of the ballrooms. Inside sat a dozen or so people, all seated in a semi-circle around the fireplace. And in front of the fireplace stood one of the most handsome men Katie had ever seen.

  He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a big chest, and maybe even a touch of a belly. His face was strongly featured with a square-set jaw and deep laugh-lines around his eyes. His cheeks were ruddy and his face showed some signs of weathering, but she was sure he wasn’t over thirty-five. His hair was full and lush, a deep chestnut brown and parted casually to the side and swept backwards. But his eyes are what got her; deep set and cerulean blue with flecks of gold and hazel, she could get lost in those eyes and stay there forever.

  The man was demonstrating something on the strap of one of the backpacks and his audience was looking on with varying levels of interest. When he saw her enter, however, he stopped what he was doing and smiled broadly.

  “Good, good,” he said smartly. “You are Miss Catherine Koo-ree, ya?”

  “Ya,” she said, not realizing the imitation until after she’d done it.

  “Well, I’m a-glad you’re here. My name is Jacob Hartmann, and I will be your guide up Mont Blanc. Your travel agents and other assistants have contracted me because I am the best. If you are in reasonably good shape then I can take you up any mountain in the Alps without any worries at all about your health and safety. It’s just important that you listen carefully and follow my instructions.” He smiled, realizing that she was still standing. He motioned to an open place on a couch next to a smaller, more finely-featured man.

  Katie smiled, excused herself as she stepped in front of the other man and took her place on the coach. Jacob went on.

  “I grew up here, in the Alps. My parents still live not two hours’ hike from here, at the foot of Mont -Rosset. As I grew, my heart came to rest in the mountains. So I traveled the world to learn as much about mountains as I could. I have climbed Everest twice, K2 once, and make sure and take at least one 8,000 meter summit a year. This trip will be a little more than half that, and not nearly as dangerous, but it is no walk in the park either. I’m here to keep you safe, make a-sure you have the fun, and come back with plenty of pictures to show and stories to tell your friends back home.”

  The crowd chuckled politely at that one. It was a pretty mixed bag. There were four couples: one looked as though they might be pushing fifty, with extra weight on both of them and grey dotting the woman’s hair; another couple looked to be in their mid-thirties and seemed mildly annoyed with the orientation in general; the final couple might have been twenty-five, and from the way they were mooning all over each other Katie would have put money on their being newlyweds. A stab of jealousy surged briefly in her heart, but then the young woman caught her eye and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  The guy sitting next to her appeared to be one of the other singles in her group. He was about her age, maybe a little bit older, and well-dressed. His t-shirt had clearly been pressed and his jeans dry-cleaned. He wore hiking boots that she was sure must cost over five hundred dollars, and he had the air about him of someone who was used to talking in front of groups and not especially happy that Jacob presently had the privilege.

  He smiled over at her and checked her out unapologetically. As his eyes came to rest on her bosom his smile widened, and his eyes returned to hers. He shifted slightly closer to her on the coach and leaned in towards her ear.

  “Can you believe this guy?” He nodded towards Jacob. “He grew up down the road and thinks he’s an expert in mountains.”

  Katie nodded noncommittally. She didn’t want to engage anyone romantically while she was here—just find herself—but didn’t want to send off the wrong vibes to this guy. She considered briefly just telling him straight out that she was a lesbian, but was sure that would come back to bite her, so opted instead for a tight smile and noncommittal grunt.

  “I’m Lance,” he said.

  “Of course you are,” she thought. “What else would your name be?”

  He held out his hand for her to shake. Because of how they were sitting on the couch it was very awkwardly placed. In order to reach out to shake him she had to press her chest up against her arm. She didn’t really want to do it, but she was afraid of disrupting Jacob any more than they already were. She made it as brief and painless as possible.

  “Ka—Catherine,” she corrected herself quickly. He wasn’t paying much attention to her words.

  “Your first time?” She noticed both the over-wide grin and the double-entendre, but didn’t take the bait.

  She paused for a moment, then spoke. “Yes, yes it is, and because of that I really want to hear what Jacob is saying.”

  Lance smiled condescendingly and Katie prayed he’d just go away.

  Jacob finished demonstrating a couple of things on the backpack he had up front with him.

  “Alright, ladies and gentlemen: this is your last night in what you would probably think of as ‘civilization’. Tomorrow morning you’ll be getting ‘unplugged’ and ‘disconnected’ for the next couple of weeks. If you want to bring your phone for the cameras that’s up to you, but you won’t get any signal, and we won’t have lots of time to be fooling around. I would suggest you leave all electronics back here in the hotel safe. Also, please do not bring the booze –that is, no alcoholic beverages on the trail—we’ll be staying in mountain villages and you may drink with the locals while we’re there, but liquor will only weigh us down, and I can’t guarantee your safety if you’ve been drinking. Your safety is my highest priority. If everyone follows directions and uses their common sense, then our trip will go without incident and you can return to your lives back home a little more whole than when you left. In the meantime, I’d recommend getting a good night’s sleep so that you have a fresh start. We’ll be leaving at first light, so around five-thirty. Bonne nuit.”

  Much to Katie’s surprise, Lance grabbed his phone almost immediately and was talking to someone far too loudly even before he left the conference room. She greeted a few of the other hikers and debated internally within herself. She was tired and knew she needed a good n
ight’s sleep, but she was also desperately hungry from her travels. She decided to go to the hotel bar and see if they had anything she could eat before bed.

  A handful of other patrons were already there eating and drinking. It was a sweet old couple who ran the bar, and the old woman came out, found out the kind of things Katie liked, and then disappeared, assuring her that she’d have something fresh within the next twenty minutes or so.

  The old man poured her a white wine and she sat at the bar drinking it, casually watching the soccer match on the television and waiting for her dinner. The meal had just come, and though Katie wasn’t entirely sure what all it was called, there were cheesy potato pancakes, tart-tasting sausages, and little cream-filled pastries. To be honest, Katie was hungry enough that she would have been satisfied with a packet of Ramen and a Diet Coke, but to satisfy her hunger and enter the world of Swiss cuisine all at once was an especial delight.

  She was rudely wakened from this world of culinary ecstasy, however, by presence of another person on the bar stool next to her, creepily invading her personal space. Raising her eyes from the plate to the television screen she chanced a glance and was not even a little surprised to see Lance.

  He was mildly handsome, in a conventional sort of way. He had thick blond hair which had clearly been styled and overmoussed—classic metrosexual His shave was close, even for a man with such fair hair, and he had pointy sideburns which came down just below his earlobes. She hadn’t had a chance to check the weirdly arranged clothing before, but from this distance could easily recognize designer labels, and she could smell an expensive body spray that she knew from experience had been specially designed with human pheromones in order to make the wearer more attractive to the opposite sex. It wasn’t working.

  “So, come here often?” His smile suggested that he knew the come-on was lame, but the intensity of his gaze and the proximity suggested that he didn’t know, or at least didn’t care.

  “First time in Europe.” That was a lie. She’d competed in the last winter Olympics, but had gotten injured in the first round and so didn’t even place.