A phone call interrupted the conversation. Cynthia answered, another guest confirming his room while Fred told his new skiing partner he'd see him in the morning. He gave his stepson an I-told-you-so look and retreated to the Dean's office and quarters in the rear.
Dean showed the guest his room, the small first floor room beneath the stairs. It had been originally designed as a maid's quarters and it was the last room they rented when Bird Song was otherwise booked. In addition to its small size, it shared a common wall to the Dean's quarters, infringing on their privacy. The room contained a single bed, small dresser and chair. Due to its location in the center of the building, there were no windows.
"Sorry about the size. I know it's a bit stuffy but it's all that's left."
"No problem," he answered in a friendly voice. "Beggars can't be choosers. I'll just leave most of my ice climbing gear in the car." He extended his hand. "I'm Donald Ryland," he said.
Cynthia was still on the phone so after Dean introduced himself he completed the paperwork, without comment or acknowledgment that he knew Ryland's relationship to Bird Song's other guest Edith Shipton and her son. Ryland listed his address as Grand Junction, Colorado and indicated he'd stay at least through the weekend when the ice climbing festivities began in earnest.
As Ryland closed his door, the Quincy sisters came out of the parlor and began climbing the stairs-Effie with a cheery 'good night Mr. and Mrs. Dean,' and Claire with tight-lipped silence.
Cynthia finished her conversation and hung up the phone. Before Dean could tell her about Ryland, she turned to her husband, "Are you going to let Fred go skiing with that man?" she asked in a whisper as they turned toward their quarters. "I know Fred means well, but you said it yourself. He is seventy-six years old! What will we do if he breaks something?"
"Shoot him," Dean answered. " I'm not his guardian, just his stepson."
"He never mentioned he could ski."
"He's never even mentioned where he was born!" Dean replied. "You know and I know Fred's past is his business. I never pressed him about it in the fifteen years we roomed together. How would I know he can ski, if in fact he really can? All I know he hasn't skied in the fifteen years I've known him."
"I think you should go with him," she answered.
Dean scowled, but then thought about it. Maybe not such a bad idea. With all the activity over the holidays, Dean hadn't had a chance to hit the beautiful slopes of nearby Telluride. Here was an opportunity to sneak away, and be a good Samaritan in the process.