Second Chance Christmas

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.