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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...” Elise apparently didn’t have an answer. Funny, she’d always been as quick-tongued as she was sure-footed. Cooper watched as the two sisters squared off, suddenly certain that life was about to get a whole lot more interesting.
Eva stepped out of the hug, crossed her arms, and encouraged, “You know you’re perfect for it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s perfect for me,” Elise finally managed.
Silence, reminding him much of the silence between him and his brother, reigned.
“Hi, Aunt Elise,” Timmy jumped in, rescuing them from an awkward moment. “It’s raining, so I’m signing up for tomorrow’s horseback ride. I’m going to find gold. You should come with us. Eva says you’re the best rider in the world.”
“The world’s a pretty big place.” Elise walked the rest of the way into the store and bent down so she was eye level with the boy. “I’m sure there are a few better riders. Cooper here is pretty good, or so I’m told.”
Eva laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. So, really how did the interview go?”
“I...”
There she went again with the “I...” instead of just spitting out whatever it was.
“What brings you to AJ’s Outfitters?” Cooper asked, as if she hadn’t been in the store a million times. “You need some mining gear? Must need something special to drive in all the way from Two Mules.”
“I’m here for a job interview. I was just at the high school,” Elise admitted. “They’re thinking about hiring a social worker, and—”
“—you took the job?” Eva was nothing if not persistent.
Elise shot Eva a dirty look. “No, I told them I’d think about it.” To Cooper, she said, “It’s just that Two Mules will be laying off one of us, and—”
“If you take the job—” Eva got excited all over again “—we’ll get to see you more than a few times a year?”
Elise had been in his store over two minutes and not once had acted like he was anything but a storekeeper.
“If you came home, you might have to get close to people again,” he commented, working hard to keep his tone casual.
“I’m close to people.” She didn’t exactly snap at him, but her words had bite. “I’m just committed elsewhere.”
Cooper didn’t bother to tell her what he thought about her using the word committed. At one time, she’d known the meaning of the word. If she’d stayed true to it, they’d have been married four or five years, maybe have a kid or two. Come to think of it. Committed had two meanings. Cooper needed to be committed for still harboring feelings for her.
“It would be awesome if you came back home,” Eva gushed. “The ranch could use the help. We’re busier than ever. And, if you worked at the high school just think of all the good you could do for those kids.”
Wisely, Cooper didn’t contribute to this train of thought. Maybe Eva was right. He sure knew those kids at the high school needed all the help they could get. But he really wished some other knight—knightess?—in shining armor was showing up. Elise had not been there when Cooper needed her most. He couldn’t trust her to be there for Garrett.
Maybe he should look into getting counseling for Garrett. Cooper couldn’t imagine going through the trials of being a high school student without his dad being there.
Mitch Smith had been his anchor after Elise left. He’d dogged Cooper, getting him to work more, attend church functions even without Elise on his arm, and finally talked Cooper into putting away the engagement ring and going to college on the rodeo scholarship, only as a solo instead of a pair.
“Best thing you can do,” Mitch had advised all those years ago, “is remain a ship in the ocean she’ll return to.”
His dad had sayings for every occasion.
Cooper’s ship had sunk, risen, been attacked a few times, and now sported a couple of holes. But he was still sailing. Unfortunately, he was now so used to being solo he wasn’t sure he wanted the condition to change.
One thing for sure, he couldn’t accept Elise as anything but a deserter.
“Hmph.” Clearly, Eva wasn’t impressed with her sister’s evasive responses. “We can talk more tonight.”
“I might head back to Two Mules tonight. I’ve got the dogs to think of, plus I really need—”
“Your next-door neighbors love your dogs. You know they’ll take care of them.”
Eva turned to Cooper. “If you’ll just let me sign Timmy and Jesse up for tomorrow’s ride, we’ll get going.” Turning to Elise, she said, “I’m thinking there’s a reason why you’re here to see Cooper.”
To Cooper’s surprise, Elise didn’t protest.
“We’re having fried chicken,” Timmy said. “You’ll like it, especially if you use ketchup.”
Cooper winked at Timmy and took care of their registration. A moment later, the pair left and he faced Elise alone. If anything, she’d improved with age, more beautiful now than she’d been at sixteen when he’d gotten the courage to ask her out for a real date. Then, he’d had to bolster up the courage to ask her father’s permission.
“What can I do for you?” His words broke the silence, and he sounded very much older, detached, businesslike. Good. That’s the way he needed to keep it. She clearly didn’t want to stay in Apache Creek, which meant she didn’t miss the town or him.
“I’m sorry about your dad.”
He blinked. Not what he was expecting. She’d come to the funeral, sat in the back, shook his hand and gave him a hug that cold February day. He’d been so numb that he’d let her pretend to be just a distant friend of the family paying tribute.
There was nothing “just” about Elise Hubrecht when it came to Cooper Smith’s feelings.
“Thank you, we miss him, but we’re doing fine.”
He’d always been able to read her—and right now, he could see her skepticism. She didn’t exactly raise an eyebrow, but he could tell she wanted to. He kept waiting for her to move. She kept those glittering black eyes that missed nothing fixed on him and asked, “Garrett doing fine?”
“He’s having a bit of a hard time,” Cooper admitted, “but he’s in high school. Not a good time to lose your dad.”
He expected her to say there’s never a good time. She’d lost her mother when she was in elementary school. Her father found himself raising three girls alone. Many a night Cooper had heard his parents talking about how hard it must be for a man who was used to roping horses to switch to corralling daughters.
Cooper hadn’t understood. Now he did, as he watched his brother Garrett turn from a mostly easy-going teen with a typical know-it-all attitude to a teen with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove.
Just what, Cooper hadn’t a clue.
“I don’t think my news is going to make you happy, but you need to see this, all the same.” She came to the counter and set her purse down before digging into its depths. Soon, an iPhone appeared in her hand. It took her only a second to find what she wanted, a video, and then she handed him her phone. He tapped the start arrow and watched as his truck came zooming down a fairly steep incline—where no road existed—and then sped crazily across terrain never meant for tires.
Cooper didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he watched the footage of his truck destroying a portion of Karl Wilcox’s cotton crop. Dimly, Cooper remembered Jacob on the phone saying, “It gets worse.” Karl was a legend in the area for not practicing the Love Thy Neighbor mantra. He didn’t forgive or forget, at least not during Cooper’s lifetime.
“I was on my way to the school for the interview when I came across your brother and his friends.”
“And you chased them down and filmed them?”
“I did, and I convinced them to go to school.”
“I’m surprised the vice-principal didn’t mention that Garrett engaged in a little destruction of property when he was supposed to be in school.”
“I didn’t share this with any of the school officials.” Elise fingered a club advertisement on the counter.
“Why not?”
“I recognized Garrett. I figured maybe you could talk to parents of the other teens in the truck and then visit Mr. Wilcox on your own. I didn’t know at the time that David Cagnalia had already been in trouble.”
Cooper very much wanted to ban his brother from the likes of David Cagnalia, but one thing held him back. He wasn’t sure who the bad influence was: David or Garrett? When David misbehaved, he always got caught. Garrett, however, knew how to be sly. At least with David, Garrett would always get busted.
“What would you recommend I do to Garrett, if, say, you were the school social worker?”
She hesitated. Her eyes sought out his, focusing in, and pulling him in the way she had all those years ago. He could still see the old Elise, buried under a sadness he didn’t know how to penetrate.
“First, he needs to work in Wilcox’s field, putting it back to rights along with the others. Then get him involved in group activities. What’s happening at the church?”
“No youth minister now. Parents are taking turns organizing events, but everyone’s busy. I don’t think we’ve done anything except a game night and that was on the fly. Garrett didn’t want to go. I made him.”
“School? Does he play football, ride, anything like that?”
“Coach Nelson retired two years ago and Garrett used that as an excuse to drop out of football. He went to one or two basketball practices but then stopped. We’ve not had a rodeo team since Emily graduated and your dad stepped down. I wish more than anything that Garrett had something like we had.”
She didn’t even blink.
Maybe she no longer remembered. Maybe she didn’t care. But Cooper did. He wished Garrett had a girlfriend who liked to chase him through the fields, only to crash down beside him on the soft grass. Someone to show him that love came in a compact package with long black hair, glittering eyes and a soft touch.
But then again, maybe that wasn’t what Garrett needed after all. His brother had already been in a world of hurt for the past year. If he found love, there was a chance it could turn sour on him. And the last thing Garrett needed on top of everything else was a broken heart like Cooper’s.
Chapter Three (#ulink_2ea239ee-1f2e-55f2-bb5a-c0414f12e844)
Breakfast at the Lost Dutchman was huge, designed for the many guests staying at the dude ranch, as was supper. Lunch, however, was on your own or a pre-packaged sandwich-chips-apple combination. It was well past lunchtime, but Fridays usually meant guests arriving after the noon hour, so Cook always had boxed lunches available for sale: her father’s idea.
He sat across from her, talking on his cell phone, not so much barking orders as giving advice. He was good at both. Elise listened as her dad advised someone who obviously knew little about ranching to not spend all their money on upgrades.
Her dad did have a certain “either do it yourself or pay it all off before the next venture” kind of attitude.
Her senior year, they’d planned out her college career. If she’d followed his advice, she’d be nearly debt-free by now. But that plan had gone out the window when she’d given up her rodeo scholarship and set out in a whole new direction with her life.
Finally, Dad ended the call and handed her the boxed lunch he’d brought in. “If you want something else, Cook will make it. He’s always had a soft spot for you.”
She’d already stopped in the kitchen and gotten her hug.
She pushed the box back toward him. “I’m not really hungry.”
As if to prove her wrong, Cook hurried from the kitchen. Slightly stooped, more than chubby, with dark tufts of hair on either side of his head and then a swatch of baldness across the top, he looked exactly the way she remembered him. Cook’s real name was David Cook. Thus, he liked being called Cook. He was a great buddy of her father’s and traveled the rodeo circuit with him. Back then his nickname had been Tumble.
“I remembered your favorite,” he bragged. He plopped the plate in front of her. Two peanut butter, honey and raisin sandwiches, no crust. A few chips spilled from the sides. The only thing missing from her childhood was—
“Would you like a glass of milk?”
“I’d like that very much, Cook.”
He nodded, and hurried off.
