"Hi," the man said with a smile. "I'm looking for a room." Dean held the door for him and he entered.
The bearded man was younger looking than Dean had thought when he first saw him drive by Bird Song, probably no more than late twenties. He wore jeans, a ski sweater and an opened, fur collared jacket.
"Sorry to bop in so late. I just had dinner and the service was a little slow."
"No problem. It's only eight-thirty," Dean answered as they stepped into the hall.
There was a hint of recognition on the man's face as he glanced over Dean's shoulder at Edith Shipton who had just emerged from the parlor. She stopped and smiled, holding out the edges of her white dress as if to show it off. The new guest smiled in return but gave no overt sign of knowing the woman. She climbed the stairs, turning once to look back at them.
"We're a little tight for rooms," Dean interrupted. "With the ice climbing festival about to open a lot of the climbers are arriving early. We should be filled after tomorrow."
"I'll take whatever you've got."
Cynthia came out of the parlor, followed by Fred, who was still seething over Claire Quincy's appropriation of the gold coins.
"Welcome to Bird Song," Cynthia said.
"Here for a little skiing?" Dean asked. "I saw a pair on your car out there."
"Ice climbing mostly. But, yes," he answered. "I'm going over to Telluride tomorrow and give the slopes a one day try. That's about all I can afford."
"I been meaning to get over there myself," Fred replied, much to the surprise of the Deans. "I hear-tell you can ski for free once you're seventy."
"Fred," Cynthia said, beating her husband with the same question. "You can't be serious!"
The old man looked indignant. "I sure am. I've got a pair of skis out in the shed. I been meaning to tell you about 'em but it's been so busy around here it slipped my mind. I bought 'em at a garage sale right down the street. Fella had my shoe size and his wife gave me a whale of a deal." Then he added, "She made him sell 'em just 'cause he turned sixty-five."
"Smart woman," Cynthia offered.
"You're welcome to join me tomorrow," the new guest said with a smile. "I think it's great being active even after you've got a few grey hairs."
"You're seventy-six!" Dean said to his stepfather. "That's a ridiculous age to take up skiing!"
"Who says I'm just taking it up? I skied before you crawled. It's as safe as watching TV and a darned sight more fun. Besides," he added, glancing at the parlor where the Quincy sisters were still gabbing, "I feel a need to get away from here a bit."