They were the first civil words Cooper had gotten from his brother this morning. Eighteen-year-olds didn’t take well to being grounded for skipping school.
Cooper frowned. It had only taken the Lost Dutchman truck and trailer but a minute to maneuver into the spot. Usually Jesse was a “slow turn, careful back-up and three attempts to get it perfect” kind of guy. Cooper figured it took more than the year Jesse had been working for the Lost Dutchman to get used to hauling several horses in a gooseneck trailer that made it feel as if you were in charge of a semi.
Elise stepped down from the driver’s side. She wore an emerald green button-down shirt that he was certain was Eva’s and form-fitting jeans. The boots were hers, well-worn. She gave him a slow wave, said something to the passenger in the truck, and then started to unload the Lost Dutchman’s horses as if she’d never been gone.
Garrett muttered something about “needing to get back to the store.”
Cooper wondered what was wrong this time. Yesterday, she’d been there to let him know his brother was again causing trouble. Today couldn’t possibly be something she wanted to do: not in Apache Creek and certainly not with him.
Elise worked slowly, walking into the trailer, standing at the first horse’s shoulder, cueing him to move backward. Giving that horse a gentle pat and a good word once he was out, she moved on to the next. He’d ordered three, knowing he’d get five because Timmy and Jesse would bring their own.
“Where’s Jesse?” He kept his voice even. No matter what, she was a potential customer.
“Tire blew out last night and now we’ve a trailer with a bent axle.”
“Everyone all right?”
“Yes, it just meant that he got in very late.” Her face was a little pale and her lips were together in a thin line that he recognized as consternation. Nope, she didn’t want to be here.
“Somehow,” she said, “I became the go-to person to bring Timmy for his ride.”
“Aunt Elise is nice.” Timmy came around the trailer and hugged her legs even while she tried to lead horses over to the fence and loop their ropes over the top rung. After a moment, she gave up, lifted Timmy into the air, and swung him in a circle. The smile was real. Too bad it didn’t go all the way to her eyes.
Usually, Cooper would have motioned Garrett over to help, but Garrett was just as angry with Elise as he was with Cooper. She’d busted him and tattled. That made her public enemy number one.
Elise finally let go of Timmy. The boy pretended to be dizzy and fell to the ground.
“It’ll be fine. I still ride on occasion. Your brother coming?” She looked over at Garret.
“No, Garrett’s in charge of the store. Come Monday, per your suggestion, he’ll be going over to Karl Wilcox’s place and repairing the damage done by the truck.”
“The other kids, too?”
“Not the girls. They’ve convinced their parents that they thought they were only going for a quick ride before school and were terrified when it turned into off-road and extreme trucking.”
“And David?”
“I’m not sure. His mom hasn’t returned my call.”
Honestly, Cooper hoped not. Right now Garrett wasn’t strong enough to be a good influence on David. The two just seemed to lead each other into more trouble.
“My dad’s been talking to his mother. Looks like he’ll be volunteering at our place.” She started to walk away, then stilled. Turning around, she looked at Cooper’s horse. “You’re riding Percy Jackson?”
He’d allowed her little sister to name his horse, all to impress Elise.
“I trained him all through the summer before college. By the time I hit junior year, he turned into the best roping horse I’ve ever had.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something. Instead, she turned to her trailer and started unlatching the doors. Pistol was the last horse Elise led out and clearly unhappy with his position. He bumped into Cooper, a little like Garrett, personally making body contact in a you’re-not-my-boss kind of attitude.
“Whoa, boy,” Cooper said.
His mother drove up then in their open-air mini-bus with “AJ’s Trolley” painted on the side. He’d gotten the logo idea from the Lost Dutchman work trucks. Any advertisement was good advertisement.
Other than his mother, the only female on board was a curly-haired redhead, who smacked gum and had a forty-five-year-old body wedged into a twenty-five-year-old’s outfit.
The hair wasn’t real, either.
When Cooper had signed her up over the phone, she claimed she could ride. Soon they’d find out if she was telling the truth.
The teens were off the bus in a shot. Others moved more slowly, sipping the last of their coffee; some were taking pictures and talking excitedly. Taking a breath, Cooper said, “Now that the horses are ready, I’ll match you to a mount and we’ll get going.”
“I wouldn’t mind that one,” the redhead said, looking at Pistol.
“He belongs to the wrangler from the Lost Dutchman,” Cooper said without hesitating. Elise neither smiled nor frowned at her description; she just kept working.
He put the redhead on a speckled gray mare.
“Flea-bitten,” the redhead complained. Meaning, either the woman was knowledgable about horses or she didn’t mind being derogatory without knowing what she was talking about.
Elise spoke up. “He’s part Arabian and offers a good seat.”
The woman nudged the horse into a slow walk, then into a trot, making it look easy.
“You’ve got a lot of teenagers,” Elise said in a low voice to Cooper. “Is that typical?”
“They go to my church. We’ve formed a sort of gold-panning club.”
“Garrett a member?”
Cooper checked to see what his brother was doing. Garrett, however, was nowhere about. “No, I wish he were.” Almost for emphasis, Cooper looked at his watch. “It’s time to go.”
The driver’s door to the AJ’s Outfitters bus slowly opened and Karen Smith gingerly stepped out. Another not-so-good day. He kept thinking his mom would rebound, soon, but Dad’s death had changed her. “Elise Hubrecht! Is that you?”
She left the door open. She usually hurried back to the store, especially if Garrett was in charge. Instead, now she somewhat limped across the lot and took Elise into her arms. “We have missed you. If I’d known you were along for the ride, I’d have saddled up to come, too.”
Leaving Garrett alone to manage the store. Cooper didn’t think so. “Mom, Elise is in town for the weekend.”
“I heard you might be taking a job at the high school,” Karen said.
“Slim possibility.”
Cooper raised an eyebrow. He’d heard she’d be out of work in a week and had plenty of bills to cover.
“I need some help here,” someone called. At first Cooper attributed the high-pitched voice to the redhead, but instead it was a middle-aged man who was tagging along with a younger man. Both looked to be businessmen. They were probably on a quest to escape their overburdened desks.
Cooper had to hurry because Timmy was heading their way, and in Cooper’s experience, businessmen usually didn’t take kindly to six-year-olds telling them what to do, especially if the six-year-old was better at it than they were.
“So, how’d you wind up going on this ride?” he heard his mother ask from behind him.