Lost & Found in Copper Ridge: A Holiday Romance Read online

  Lost & Found in Copper Ridge

  A Holiday Romance

  Harlow James

  Copyright © 2021 by Harlow James

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Paperback ISBN: 979-8-477320-84-4

  To every couple that has stood the test of time, that fights for their love, and makes others believe in it too.

  “Let all your failures in your past year be your best guide in the New Year.”

  Mehmet Murat ildan

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  More Books by Harlow James

  Connect with Harlow James

  Chapter 1

  Reese

  I’m not even hungry, so why am I scouring the snack aisles of this gas station looking at sugar-laden candy and carb-infused chips?

  Because you’re an emotional eater and today is going to be rough, Reese.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, I relent to the fact that I don’t need anything to eat right now, but I may after the service, so it’s better to be prepared than not. My eyes land on a King Size pack of York Peppermint Patties and saliva instantly pools in my mouth. I can almost taste the cool mint on my tongue, the flaky chocolate that will melt and swirl together with the gooey filling, and hear Ruth’s whispered words of encouragement, so I let that reaction drive my decision. I grab two just to be on the safe side, and a bottle of Coca-Cola for good measure, and then proceed to the register to pay for my delayed sugar coma.

  “That’ll be $4.59,” the cashier declares after scanning my items. I pull open the zipper on my wallet, reach in for the ten-dollar bill I’ve been holding onto for a few days now, and slide it across the counter. The chime of the drawer rings out as it pops open, and then the cashier slides my change across the counter to me. “Have a good day.”

  “Thank you,” I mumble as the panic of trying to put my change back in my wallet barrels into me. I don’t know that there’s anything comparable to the mounting anxiety of trying to put your money back in your wallet after making a purchase, sensing the impatience of the other people in line waiting to pay for their stuff behind you. The feeling of a metaphorical rope cutting off my air supply squeezes my throat as my arms almost flail from my body to gather my things as quickly as possible.

  As hurriedly as I can, I pick up the change and shove it into my wallet, not even bothering to zip it back up, grab the generic black plastic bag full of my goodies that I feel is a standard at any gas station, and scamper out of the door, hit by the crisp September air the moment I reach the outside. The first hint of fall is here as the weather is slowly changing in Colorado Springs, bringing with it an unruly and wet winter in just a few months but a welcome reprieve from the heat of summer.

  Sliding into the leather seats of my Subaru, a breath of relief leaves my lips as I crank the engine, lock the door, and rightfully arrange my change in my wallet now that the pressure of those in line behind me is gone and my chest untightens in record time.

  But the red letters on the five-dollar bill the cashier gave me have me pausing and slowly extracting the wadded up bill from my wallet, unfolding the crinkles to read the words clearly.

  Jack & Diane

  Copper Ridge, CO

  Livingston Cabin, 1969

  “The weekend we fell in love.”

  An embarrassing snort leaves my lips, and at that moment, I’m grateful I’m alone so no one can hear the unattractive sound. “Jack and Diane, huh? Maybe they were John Mellencamp fans,” I mutter to myself, instantly humming the tune of the popular 80’s ballad out loud.

  But then I trace the cursive clearly written by someone, trying to decide whether the information is valid or not, acknowledging that the date on this bill is far before 1982 when the song came out.

  It’s not every day you find money with hand-written messages on it, let alone two names and information that is as detailed as this. Even though the names are generic, the fact that this message mentions a mountain town about an hour and a half from my home of Colorado Springs definitely has my mind spinning with questions, but no time presently to dwell on them.

  I have a very difficult goodbye to say today, and now that I have my peppermint patties to soothe me afterward, I feel like I’m ready to get this over with.

  I carefully slide the unfolded bill back in my wallet, returning it to my purse before I pull my seatbelt across my chest and moving my long red hair from beneath so it’s not pulling on it anymore. With a glance in my rearview mirror, I exit the gas station parking lot and head for the cemetery, knowing this isn’t the first or last time I’ll be here thanks to the nature of my job.

  “Ruth Jones was a spitfire of a woman. Anyone who knew her in any capacity knows that.” The son of one of my most beloved patients earns chuckles from the crowd gathered around the casket. “My mother was a force to be reckoned with, lived life with an honesty to her words that was both refreshing and brutal at times, and I know I can speak candidly when I say I won’t be the only one who will miss her dearly.” Murmurs of agreement filter through the guests.

  A lone tear falls down my face, one of the few I’ve allowed myself to cry today. I know I’ll have a breakdown at some point where I’ll let all of my emotions out about losing Ruth, but today is not that day.

  Today, I just want to say my goodbyes, silently thank this woman for being a guiding light in my life, and helping save me from making one of the biggest mistakes of my life—marrying the wrong man.

  Goosebumps broke out over my skin when I noticed the date of today’s service. It was the day I was supposed to be walking down the aisle toward my fiancé, Doug. But thanks to Ruth and her hard-hitting questions, I made the decision that I knew deep down in my heart was the right one.

  The memory of what sparked the tornado of destructive truth in my mind plays back behind my eyelids like it was just yesterday.

  “Doug? What kind of name is that?” she spat when I told her about my fiancé the first time I mentioned any aspect of my personal life to her. I had been checking on her for several weeks now since she joined the clientele of Sunny Point Convalescent Home after a surgery that left her unable to care for herself any longer. And since none of her family had time and space for the level of care she required, she became our newest resident, one I grew fond of rather quickly.

  “What’s wrong with Doug?”

  “I just…” She shook her head. “Sorry, Reese, but that’s not a name you scream out during sex, young lady.”

  I choked on my tongue at her honesty, even though I was no stranger at this point to Ruth’s blatant regard for the truth.

  “Ruth!”

  She j
ust shrugged and then waited as my eyes scanned her paperwork, making sure that all of her healthcare protocols had been addressed. And then she eyed me skeptically, arching one brow. “But let me guess…he doesn’t give it to you good enough to warrant a scream, does he?”

  My face fell when she stole the words from my internal thoughts. But sex isn’t everything, right? There are plenty of people that have very successful marriages without toe-curling, passionate sex…

  “Not happy marriages,” she replied, alerting me to the fact that I was in fact, talking out loud.

  “What?”

  “You know a wedding ring is the smallest handcuff in existence, so it’s important to choose your cell mate wisely, Reesy.”

  Her comparison made me laugh nervously, and then I glanced down at the diamond on my finger, the connection between a life sentence and marriage almost stealing the breath from my lungs. “That’s kind of a morbid way to think about marriage.”

  “Honey, I’m old and on the verge of death as it is, so morbidity is part of my way of thinking. Part of the reason I married my Paul was because he was dynamite in the sack. He lacked in other ways, but always made up for it that way. Loved me for who I was. He was my best friend, and I gladly would have been hand-cuffed to him for eternity.”

  I swallowed down the knot in my throat as I processed her words. Is that how I feel about Doug? Would the sex get better after we got married? And did I truly think of him as my best friend?

  I know he loves me and we have a beautiful life planned together, but there’s no excitement, no thrill, no rush when I get to see him at the end of the day. We’ve been together so long that I feel we’ve stayed together more out of comfort than need. And when we’re apart, I’m not itching to be reunited with him.

  And the closer the wedding gets, the tighter the knot in my stomach seems to grow…

  And that was the catalyst that turned my entire life upside down in a matter of a few months, including when I walked into work just a few weeks ago and was informed that Ruth had passed late the night before in her sleep.

  “Thank you so much for coming. It means a lot that you’re here.” Ruth’s daughter, Lucy, shakes my hand while dabbing her eyes with a tissue. We’re standing to the side of Ruth’s casket as people start to console the family and leave for the wake.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it. Your mother was a special woman. She meant a great deal to me in the short amount of time I knew her.”

  “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I always figured she’d live to be one-hundred,” she laughs through her tears. “She was so stubborn, I swore she was going to stick it out as long as possible just to keep us all on our toes.”

  My lips lift in a reverent smile. “I agree. I was shocked when my colleagues told me she had passed.” The timing of that moment still resonates with me.

  “I just want you to know how grateful we are to you and the entire staff at Sunny Point for the care you gave her up until the very end.”

  “You’re welcome, but that’s our job. We wouldn’t have had it any other way.” And I feel like she took care of me more than I did for her.

  Lucy’s husband comes up to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist, leaning down to whisper something in her ear. She nods and then looks back up at me. “If you’ll excuse me,” she says, and I graciously step aside so that she can follow her husband elsewhere.

  With one final glance at the coffin now placed snuggly in the ground, I blow Ruth one last kiss, take a deep breath, and walk away from yet another person in my life—although with her, I wished I never would have had to.

  After the service and the quiet drive home, I settle into my couch as more memories of Ruth assault my mind.

  “Listen to your mind, Reesy. Life is trying to tell your heart something.”

  It was those words of hers that gave me the courage to accept what I truly knew deep down—that marrying Doug wasn’t the right decision for me. As much as I cared for him, and after having invested three years in our relationship, marriage seemed like the logical next step in our future.

  But Ruth planted the seed that quickly blossomed into a tree of truth in the few months that I had with her.

  Doug was not the man I envisioned forever with—a harsh reality to accept, but one that I will be forever grateful to her for helping me realize. Any visions I had of a future with him felt forced, as if I was trying to convince myself that I was on the right path.

  It wasn’t easy to call off an engagement, particularly two months before a wedding. But I knew it was better than waiting until the day of and leaving a mess for other people to clean up. The overwhelming failure that threatened to take over was the one thing I was trying to avoid the most. And the fear that I may never find another man to marry is simmering low in my stomach as well.

  Speaking of which, with a glance at my calendar, I now let my mind wander over what we would be doing at this time if I had followed through with the wedding. I flick my wrist up to check my watch, noting the time of almost five in the evening. I would be preparing to walk down the aisle right now, gathering my wits and waiting for the wedding coordinator to tell me that everyone, including the groom, was in place and just waiting on me.

  The tables would be covered with white satin cloths, the center pieces full of pink roses and baby’s breath. My best friend, Wendy, would be walking down the aisle with her arm woven through Doug’s brother’s, wearing the dark grey bridesmaid dress that I picked out for her. I would be standing in my princess style ball gown, veil in place and make-up flawless, shaking down to my knees from the nerves running through me—the nerves I probably never would have listened to if it weren’t for Ruth.

  With a heavy sigh, I close my eyes and remind myself that I did the right thing. I didn’t marry a man out of complacency, a man who wanted me to quit my job once we had kids, a man that I honestly don’t know if he could tell me what my favorite movie was, or that despite growing up in Colorado my entire life, that I actually hated the cold.

  I deserve more. I’m only twenty-five. I’m young, attractive (if I do say so myself), and have a lot to offer someone. But still, there is a sense of mourning I’m going through today—not only for the woman that I formed a bond with in just six short months, but for a day in my life that I dreamed of from a young age, a marriage that I do hope to still have one day with the right person.

  Ruth made me promise her that last week before she died that I would not spend another moment sacrificing what I wanted in my life for someone else. I had worked too hard to get where I was, and that meant accepting that I deserved that same passion in all aspects of my life, including in a relationship. She made me promise that I would grab life by the balls (her words, not mine) and be brave, seek adventure, and vow to make the most of the time I had while I was still young enough to do whatever I wanted, assuring me that when I least expect it, the right man will come along and give me everything that Doug did not.

  “I’d go skydiving tomorrow if they’d let me out of here,” she said that last week she was alive. “When you’re close to death, you realize all the thrills of still existing that you wish you could experience again.”

  “You went skydiving before?”

  She nods proudly. “One of the best moments of my life. Definitely something someone should experience at least once.”

  “But what if you die while doing it?”

  “Then at least you went down with your arms spread wide and the wind hitting your face, knowing you were seeking the thrill of life instead of just watching from the ground.”

  My phone ringing pulls me out of the memory. With a glance at the screen, I chuckle and then press the button to answer the call. “Hello?”

  “Are you alive? You’re not drowning in a tub of ice cream right now, are you?” Wendy, my best friend since high school, mocks me through the line.

  “No, but I do have two King Size packages of York Peppermint Patties sitting on my coffee table I’m ab
out to dive into,” I say, and then my eyes drift over to my purse sitting on the kitchen counter, remembering the five-dollar bill inside I gained from my purchase that I wanted to investigate some more.

  “Good. Ruth would be happy you’re eating her favorite candy today, and those are easy to burn off. Not like a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. Those suckers are so cruel with the amount of calories they sneak in that little carton.”

  “I agree, especially since it’s so easy to inhale the entire thing in one sitting. And don’t forget, I love peppermint patties too.”

  “Exactly.” She pauses and then I hear her exhale into the phone. “But seriously…how are you doing? Today was a…rough day,” she says.

  “I’m…okay,” I reply honestly, knowing that I will be even more once tomorrow comes. Each day will get easier, at least that’s what people say, right?

  “How was the service?”

  The corner of my mouth lifts wistfully. “It was beautiful. Ruth’s family is so sweet, and I know she’ll be terribly missed.”

  “That woman will live on infamously through her words alone.”

  That makes me chuckle. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  “And what about the other thing? You doing okay with that?”

  I nod even though she can’t see me. “Yeah. I know it was the right decision. It’s just ironic that the funeral for the woman that made me see the truth about my engagement happened to be on the same day that my wedding was supposed to be.”