Second Chance Christmas. Pamela Tracy
that on the phone?”
He hadn’t told her about the call from school. He knew he’d have to eventually—she still needed to set up that parent meeting. But something about the pinched look on her face made him want to protect her for a little while longer. “Just a salesman trying to convince me we needed something we didn’t need. Did you hurt your hand?”
“Just some pain in the joints. I dropped a box I was trying to put away.”
His mother’s hands did look a little swollen and red. She’d been complaining that they felt stiff.
“You need to go to the doctor, Mom. Figure out what’s going on.”
“It’s just age. Speaking of which, I think I’ll go home and lie down for a while. We’re not busy.”
He watched as she headed out of the store and got in her car. She’d come in thirty minutes after he’d reopened the store.
“Excuse me, do you have a book that’s like a biography of someone who spent time mining in the Superstition Mountains?” It wasn’t the first time Cooper had heard this request. The man wanted to read about Jacob Waltz, the Lost Dutchman, who’d started the whole “There’s a treasure in them hills” mentality.
“Not really.”
The customer’s face fell. He spent a few minutes going through the books Cooper did have on display and then left, but not before saying, “You need to put out some Christmas decorations or something.”
Christmas?
Every time the holiday knocked on Cooper’s mind, he refused to open the door. Too busy.
Looking around the shop, he realized the customer was right. Cooper needed to start putting out his yuletide decorations. Dad had always claimed that Santa was a gold panner. He’d needed money to fund his shop and pay the elves, right? And, the North Pole had to have gold. It was in Alaska! Now that would be a reality show. Santa and his elves maneuvering an excavator and suffering make-or-break decisions.
Yes, Thanksgiving might be next week, but turkeys didn’t help sales much. But he knew that Christmas trumped every holiday, and the store needed to increase sales so that Cooper’s first year as co-owner wasn’t his last.
Somehow, he also needed to get Garrett through high school and into college. And then when he’d done all that, maybe he’d cure cancer or institute world peace. Those tasks couldn’t seem any more difficult than the ones ahead of him now.
Putting his phone in his shirt pocket, Cooper went back to work. He’d had goals for today before Garrett interrupted them. He started counting his supply of metal detectors. His most expensive kit was over two thousand; his cheapest came in at two hundred. That was on sale.
He hadn’t sold one in over two weeks. How many customers had he missed while out looking for Garrett?
He checked his list for tomorrow’s outing. He had eight; he needed ten; he could handle fifteen. Five of the people signed up were teenagers from his church. He didn’t charge them. The three tourists would be a boost, but he wished there were more of them.
Outside, gravel crunched as another customer pulled into the parking lot. Cooper paused, metal detector in hand, almost like a weapon. It was back, the Lost Dutchman’s royal blue Ford truck.
The sight of one—and old Jacob Hubrecht probably owned four—always made Cooper Smith want to run out the front door and shout, “Wait for me!” Ten years ago, he hadn’t run fast enough, shouted loud enough, and Elise Hubrecht had driven away without a backward glance or goodbye, taking his heart with her.
Since that day, the sight of a blue Lost Dutchman truck in his parking lot meant one of Elise’s sisters or her dad. Today, judging by the brown-haired boy scrambling out of the passenger-side door, he’d be dealing with Eva, Elise’s big sister, and Eva’s stepson, Timmy.
“Hey, Cooper.” Timmy smiled as he set off the large brass bell that announced customers entering AJ’s Outfitters. The bell was old and annoying, but his father had installed it and Cooper didn’t have the heart to replace it.
“What are you doing out and about on a school day?” Cooper asked.
“I had to go to the dentist, and I was so good that Eva said I could sign up for one of your tours up the mountain. I’ve been askin’ and askin’ and it’s raining so the perfect time. That’s what Grandpa said. Did you know that? He says I ride better than most grown-ups and that you’d help me find gold. Can I go tomorrow? Please.”
Cooper stared around Timmy, waiting for Eva to finally exit the truck. She’d always been the most organized of the Hubrecht sisters, the thinker and nurturer of the set. She’d been the one who made sure all supplies were packed, who made reminder calls, and who checked the final scoring numbers.
The baby of the family, Emily, didn’t care. She knew her big sisters would take care of her. She merely kept track of what was going on, often filming it to post online, and writing about it on some blog or Facebook page she’d started.
Cooper’s ex-girlfriend, middle daughter Elise, had been the risk-taker of the sisters. She did the numbers in her head and always knew her rank and position. She thought the fewer supplies the better, and if they happened to forget something, then obviously they’d not needed it. Back then, at least when it counted, he’d been the only thing she needed.
In the end, he’d not been enough.
“Is Eva going to enroll with you or will it be your dad?” Cooper grinned. Eva, everyone knew, was afraid of horses. He’d heard she was doing better, but he doubted she’d be willing to do the ups and downs of the Superstition Mountains. He emphasized Only Experienced, Confident Riders for tomorrow’s tour. He’d still get a few tenderfoots. Now Timmy’s dad, Jesse, was such a good rider that he could probably lead the tour. But Jesse wouldn’t know how to talk gold panning.
Eva came through the door, letting a slight breeze in with her. “Jesse says he’ll go along. He’ll stay once he delivers the horses.”
Cooper’s family owned five horses and two mules. After his dad died, he’d started boarding all but his quarter horse Percy Jackson at the Lost Dutchman. It was for the best. His mom hadn’t ridden in years and Cooper could never convince Garrett to go for a ride anymore. On the other hand, Cooper managed to get at least an hour a day—make that evening—in on PJ. Sometimes he thought the time spent on the back of his horse was all that kept him sane.
That and prayers.
“When are you going to try, Eva?” he queried. “Jesse says you go for a ride with him at least once a week.”
“At the rate I’m improving, I’ll be ready to ride the mountain when I turn eighty-six.”
He’d been about to mention that Elise had done the mountain when she was six. But then the bell rang as the front door opened and Elise stood there.
A small smile curved the lips he’d once called his own. Her hair was longer, caught in a braid. She’d always gone for vibrant colors, but today wore a royal blue two-piece suit and sensible shoes. He preferred her in button-down shirts that tucked into jeans hugging the legs that had chased him across the football field and tackled him.
It was her eyes that made him step back, bump into the shelf holding bucket survival kits. When they looked into his, they didn’t light up.
After all these years, why did he still expect it?
“Hey,” he said, keeping his tone even. Instinctively, he knew not to head toward her and try to give her the type of hug old friends exchange. It hadn’t been a good breakup.
“Hi, Cooper,” Elise said.
As if they were merely acquaintances meeting again after a long time.
“Don’t tell me,” Eva exclaimed, hurrying across the store and giving her a hug. “You took the job!”
“I...”