Big Sky

A whirlwind of blonde hair and curse words blew in the kitchen I was standing in, as I gnawed my nails. It was 6:12 PM.

“Shae, you’re an absolute life-saver,” I breathed. She was cutting it close, but I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Okay, so you damn well better tell me who is so important that I had to drive all the way to Bozeman for catering,” she complained, setting some large paper bags on the counter. I had been in a panic about how we were supposed to feed four elite athletes without a cook on site all day. I made a deal with my incredible human of a best friend- if she drove to pick up some catering, I would tell her.

I slid a pen and a non-disclosure form across the kitchen island to her. She looked at me, the interest evident in her expression.

“Okay, now I’m intrigued. Who is so important and secretive to need non-disclosure forms?” she wondered, as she picked up the pen and scrawled her signature and dated the form.

I shrugged. “Their security people mostly just don’t want us stealing their things and selling them on eBay. It’s more of a technicality, but I’m still not supposed to advertise that they’re here,” I explained, checking to make sure she actually wrote her own signature and not something outrageous. She stuck her tongue out at my lack of trust.

“It’s four players from the Chicago Blackhawks.”

She quirked her immaculate eyebrow, “You’re kidding.”

Shaking my head, I elaborated, “No, Patrick Kane made some deal with Toews that they would come to a dude ranch if and when they won the cup this past season.”

Shae heaved herself up onto the counter and dangled her feet above the floor, lost in thought for a moment.

A wicked smile crept onto her lips, “You know, that Captain Serious of theirs is awfully cute.”
I only threw a wadded up paper bag at her in rebuttal.



Thankfully for my wunderkind of a best friend, there were trays of barbecue pork and brisket, as well as grilled veggies, salads and other sides waiting for the Chicagoans promptly at 6:30. As could be expected of four twenty-something hockey players, they were hungry.

I smiled as they wandered into the spacious dining area in the main house. I was putting the last few things out, making sure the spread was presentable. Fortunately, they were the only mouths that needed feeding for the week, as they had ensured they were the only ones occupying the ranch.

“Help yourself to some food, there’s beer and other drinks over there,” I pointed to the breakfast bar to the left of the long dining table.

The four lined up, chatting amicably and expressing their appreciation, as they filled their plates and returned to the table. There was several seconds of contented silence before Shae burst in the swinging door.

“El, I can’t find any marshmallows, are you sure-,” she looked like a deer in headlights upon realizing that we weren’t alone anymore. She started to apologize and back out quickly, but I grabbed her arm. Might as well introduce her now, seeing as she is almost always around.

“Guys, this is Shae, she’s my best friend and right hand man,” I gestured to the blonde girl to my right. “Shae, this is Andrew Shaw, Duncan Keith, Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane of the Chicago Blackhawks.” I pointed at each and they waved.

Nervously, she blurted out, “I know.” Clapping her hand over her mouth, she burned bright red. “I mean… it’s awesome to meet you guys. But uh, I think I’ll be going…” she backed away again and pointed over her shoulder to the door. I followed her out, back into the kitchen.
Grinning like a madman, I cornered my flustered best friend as she tried to retreat back to the pantry to hide.

“Shae Ellsworth, I have never seen you like this,” I teased her. Shae was anything but timid. She definitely was my wilder counterpart, being more of a shot of whiskey than a cranberry vodka. Often, she bordered on brash and men typically found her intelligence, boldness and incredible looks somewhat intimidating.

She only rolled her eyes and pretended to search for the elusive marshmallows.

“Look, my dad grew up in Iowa, and he was a big Hawks fan. I grew up idolizing them. Sue me for being in awe of them being in your house!” she threw her hands up in exasperation.

Her deer-in-headlights expression returned, thanks to a throat being cleared.

Shaw had stuck his head in the door of the kitchen, “Uh, we were just wondering if you guys were going to come to the bonfire…,” I started to say no, that we didn’t want to intrude on their vacation, but he said, “’Cause it’d be awesome if you did.”

The expectant expression was enough to convince me, even knowing that my father wouldn’t be happy about it. “Maybe for a little while, sure,” I answered on behalf of I and the still-rattled Shae.

He beamed. “Cool,” he winked and ducked back into the dining room.

Shae slapped my arm, “Oh god, now he thinks I’m a crazed fan. I might as well stick my head in the oven! Why did you agree to that?”

She continued her tirade as she marched around, gathering supplies for s’mores.

Blocking her path, I put my hand over her mouth. Arms filled with boxes of graham crackers, chocolate bars and lighter fluid, she was unable to stop me.

“Shae, shut up. We were invited to join. Did you really expect me to say no?”

Uncovering her mouth, she groaned. “Your dad’s gonna kill you for fraternizing with the celebrity guests. Since when are you Ms. Rebellious?”

I shrugged, “Since when do attractive athletes show up at my doorstep?”

Shae broke into another devilish grin, “I’m glad I’m rubbing off on you finally.”



An hour later, we were gathered around the big brick fire pit, beers in hand. Shae finally started to loosen up after a couple and was having a conversation with Keith and Shaw. I was allowing Kane to regale me with a story of his heroism on the ice, full of dramatic air-stick handling and hopping around as he demonstrated. Jonathan slowly sipped his beer, occasionally interjecting the tale with clarification or correction from Patrick’s embellishments.

“Yeah, and then Toews is just standing behind the net with his dick in his hand as I get railed into the boards for the second time that night,” he swigs his beer, leaving a long enough pause for Jonathan to chime in.

“Well maybe if you passed the puck occasionally instead of being a total fuck all the time, that wouldn’t happen.”

“Hey, fuck you man,” he downs the rest of his beer. Turning to me, he asks, “Can I have permission to talk to your hot blonde friend?”

Making a sweeping arm gesture, “Permission granted.”

Standing up, he wanders over to where Shae is talking to Keith still. As if understanding some secret guy code, Keith excuses himself to get another beer, leaving her and Patrick alone. Her nerves obviously returning, she fiddled with the hem of her top. However, soon enough she was throwing her head back in laughter and being the engaging Shae I was used to.

Realizing I was left alone with the Captain, I tried to think of something interesting to say. The silence was comfortable though, filled by nothing but the clinking of beer bottles on the brick and the crackle of the fire.

After a few moments, he spoke, “Thanks for hanging out with us. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my team, but sometimes even I need a break from them.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I know what you mean,” I shot a glance at my spirited friend flirting with Patrick Kane.

I glanced at him, the fire dancing across his features. They were still a bit boyish, despite being 27, but he definitely didn’t give the impression of boyishness. The scars on his chin and lips from years of rough and tumble hockey left him with a maturity in his face that went well with his calculated expressions. Breaking his stare from the fire, he caught me looking at him.

Averting my eyes quickly, I felt the heat spread from my neck to my hairline. I threw back the rest of my drink.

Giving no indication that he noticed my awkwardness, he asked, “So we have a trail ride tomorrow, huh?”

Thankful for this diversion, I said, “Yeah, our trail master is going to take you guys out. There are some incredible views up the pass and near the gorge.”

For a moment, something like disappointment colored his features. “Oh, so you’re not going?”

Shaking my head, “No, I’ll be busy here probably.”

Nodding, expression unreadable, he finished his own beer.

He opened his mouth to start saying something else, but not before none other than my father practically shrieked “Eliza, come here a moment!”

Shae took that as her cue to leave, swiftly grabbing Kane’s shoulder and leaning up to say something next to his ear that left him with a goofy grin on his face. She slinked off towards the house.

“I better get going, have a stern talking-to to get over with,” I stood up.

Jonathan frowned, “Did we get you in trouble?”

“No, I got myself in trouble,” I bit my lip to hide my smile.

Jonathan stood up, his frame managing to make my own decently tall one feel small.
“Well, if you get a break from being busy here, you should definitely come out on that trail ride,” he told me.

Feeling a wash of giddiness, “I might be able to work something out.”

He gave me a half-smile as I finally started my trek back to the house. Maybe he was just being polite, but it had been a long time since my stomach fluttered like that. I tried to quell the feeling as I met my visibly disgruntled father.

Even so, I could hardly contain my smile as my dad lectured me on being professional and not bothering the guests.