Second Chance Christmas. Pamela Tracy
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from the three tourists. That might just double their Saturday total.
Cooper didn’t know what more he could do except pray. Lately, he’d not said any prayers for himself until after amen. Sometimes, before falling into an exhausted sleep, he added an addendum, a simple plea: Help me, God.
Last time he’d prayed this much was a good ten months ago.
Mitch Smith, his father, had left a big hole to fill when he’d passed away in February, and the hole looked to be getting deeper as the first Christmas without him loomed less than five weeks away.
“I’m sure it was Garrett,” Jacob said. “And, it gets worse.”
Worse than skipping school and abusing a 1962 classic Ford F-100, four-by-four, V8, four-speed transmission in the rain? Cooper had had a customer offer him five thousand for it two weeks ago, and Cooper had turned him down. They didn’t need the money that badly.
Yet.
Cooper didn’t want to know how worse his brother was making it. Each passing day just proved to him that he couldn’t fill his father’s shoes.
Jacob interrupted Cooper’s meandering thoughts by sharing, “He had three other teens in the truck with him.”
“Great,” Cooper muttered. “One is probably David Cagnalia, right?”
“Pretty sure,” Jacob agreed. “Plus, two girls I didn’t recognize.”
Girls? Oh, please no.
“Thanks, Jacob. I appreciate the call. You wouldn’t by any chance have some advice on how I should deal with this, would you?”
Jacob Hubrecht had brought up three girls, pretty much on his own, and they’d all turned out perfect. Especially his middle daughter, Elise, who Cooper had been in love with from fourth grade until... Well, Cooper couldn’t rightly say that he’d fallen out of love with Elise; it was more as if they’d fallen apart, literally and figuratively.
“Do what you’re doing. Keep letting him know you’re there. Also, when he decides to talk, listen.”
“I’ve been doing that.” Cooper watched his three customers leave the store without the five-dollar fool’s gold necklace. They ran to their car, looking at the sky as if amazed at the Arizona rain. Some storekeeper he was, on the phone the whole time.
“Go fetch Garrett now,” Jacob said, grabbing Cooper’s attention again. “Get him to school. He’ll only be two hours late. Wait to talk to him until tonight when you’re not so mad. Better yet, let your mother do the talking.”
“I don’t know,” Cooper said slowly, even as he was thinking how much easier it would be on him if he could let his mother deal with Garrett. “She’s not feeling well.”
She hadn’t felt well since the funeral nine months ago.
“I’ll ask Elise if she has any ideas,” Jacob said.
Cooper opened his mouth to say “Not necessary”, but Jacob wasn’t finished. Quickly and proudly, he announced, “She’s interviewing today at the high school for some kind of social worker position.”
Elise was coming home.
After a decade.
Home.
But not to him.
“No, thanks,” Cooper said. “I’ll handle it on my own.”
* * *
Elise Hubrecht had never been a fan of the term last resort. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a fan of the word unemployed, either. Just the thought of it gave her an upset stomach. She had a school loan, more than one credit card and daily bills. If she moved back to Apache Creek, she could live at the ranch for a while, maybe pay off the credit cards and buy a new truck—new to her, anyways. The way things were going, her old truck wouldn’t last much longer. It hadn’t started this morning, so she was in one of her dad’s Lost Dutchman Ranch trucks, which had brought back memories of high school. All her best memories were here, in Apache Creek, Arizona.
And her worst memories, too. Those were why she had left, ten years ago. And why she hadn’t planned to return.
Her father, who claimed he didn’t have an emotional side, had all but killed the fatted calf when she’d told him she was coming home for a job interview. She had an eleven o’clock appointment with Principal Beecher and a few school board members who made up the hiring committee. Checking her watch, she figured she’d be a good twenty minutes early. For no other reason than curiosity, she turned left when she should have turned right, and headed down the rural road to AJ’s Outfitters.
She passed the weathered white brick building with its dark blue roof. Odd, there was a Closed sign on the door. It was a Friday morning, late November. Perfect weather and the busy season for the Arizona outdoorsmen.
None of her business. She pressed on the gas and drove toward the street that eventually lead to the high school. She cracked the window and took a deep breath of the eighty-degree Arizona winter.
Just two blocks from the school, she caught sight of a red truck moving fast off-road, to her left, and bumping crazily on terrain never meant for tires. Then it abruptly turned and traveled down a fairly steep embankment.
Elise blinked. She recognized the vehicle.
The driver didn’t even hesitate when he swerved in front of her truck, skidding slightly on the pavement, and finally straightening. Then the driver hit the gas and turned down the road that led right toward her family’s ranch.
The Cooper she remembered drove slower than her great-uncle and never broke the law. Couldn’t be him. Besides, the momentary glance she’d managed into the front seat of the red truck highlighted what looked like four teenagers, all laughing, maybe screaming, but definitely younger than Cooper and his friends.
More the age of Cooper’s much younger brother. She’d seen Garrett briefly at his father’s funeral back in February. Elise made a snap decision, turned to follow, all the while knowing she was getting involved and that would only make her even more desirable to the school board that so desperately wanted to hire her.
If only Mike Hamm, her favorite minister and now apparently a member of the school board, hadn’t seen her résumé posted on a job-hunting website and called her with an offer. It was the only job available for five hundred miles. She knew this. But coming home felt like such a step back—from everything she’d accomplished in her current home of Two Mules, Arizona, and everything she’d hoped to achieve there in the next few years.
She’d just been starting to make headway with some of the local teens. Her work there was supposed to make up for her failures in the past. She couldn’t walk away now. Especially not to come back here—the site of those painful failures.
What she really couldn’t seem to do was stop following Cooper’s truck even as it veered from one side of the road to the other. It was an accident waiting to happen and she the only witness. Where was everyone?
The truck in front of her turned again, Elise on its tail. She’d be late for her interview, that was for sure, but clearly the teens in front of her needed a reality check.
The truck careened across the dirt road and into the remnants of Karl Wilcox’s cotton field. When she was a teen, Mr. Wilcox owned a shotgun, which he filled with buckshot and was quite willing to use on anyone who messed with his land. She doubted that had changed in the years since then.
Elise honked her horn, trying to get the teens to pull over. It took a good five minutes, time Elise spent with her cell phone aimed out the window taking a video. She knew a picture was worth a thousand words, especially when parents wanted denial more than truth. Finally Elise cornered them when a dirt road they’d turned on dead-ended. She stepped out of her vehicle and waited, noting that a rainbow had already formed above the Superstition Mountains that towered over the landscape.
A tall brown-haired