But first…Copper. With an hour before opening the shop’s doors, she grabbed her jacket again and headed outside to the stable, a minute’s walk from the shed.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door, the warm scent of hay and horse wrapped around her, a sharp contrast to the crisp morning air still clinging to her cheeks. Inside, Copper nickered low from his stall, already shifting his weight in anticipation.
“There’s my boy,” she murmured, crossing the straw-covered floor. He stuck his head over the stall door, his reddish coat dusted with bits of hay, nostrils flaring to greet her.
She ran a hand down the white streak on his long, warm face, getting a push of love when she reached into her pocket for the peppermint he fully expected her to have.
Mom and Dad had given this horse to Nicole for her high school graduation, after Whistler had gone to the great stables in the sky. She always thought Copper was some kind of consolation prize for her parents’ divorce, which happened later that same year during her freshman fall semester at the University of Utah.
Maybe they’d hoped to ease her pain with this beautiful beast.
Of course, Snowberry Lodge always had a horse or two, and they always had someone on staff who acted as a stable manager when Nicole was at school or work. But there were few things she treasured more than being able to get over here early to feed, brush, exercise, and warm her big boy.
He was fourteen now, a beautiful Belgian Draft horse with a sturdy build and feathered legs. A gentle giant except for when he got spooked, Copper sported a reddish-chestnut coat and a light flaxen mane. His striking winter look was perfectly photogenic for the sleigh he was purchased to pull.
Except he hated getting hitched to the darn thing as much as Nicole hated sliding into a pair of skis. So, she’d get him outside for exercise before she got that sleigh out of storage.
She did all the stable chores first, then took him out to the paddock after refilling his water and tossing a few flakes of hay into his feeder. While he wandered around and got some air, she went back inside to a massive tack and storage area, throwing off the big blanket that covered the sleigh nestled in a corner.
Letting out a low whistle, she took a good look at the iconic piece of Snowberry history.
Good heavens, it was beautiful. A classic open carriage, it had a deep cherry red body with two rows of black leather seatingfor as many as six people. The front was open, adding a true measure of glory for the driver, while the spacious back seat was tucked low and flanked by lanterns and warmed with red blankets.
Oh, yes, this had marketing potential, even at a standstill.
She could pile the front seat high with some fake Christmas presents, string lights all over it, and let the kids ring the sleigh bells.
That would help draw customers, if only for the social media-worthy Christmas photos.
She wandered around the beast, trying to figure out how to pull it out, climbing over some saddles, piles of harnesses, and a wooden ramp she remembered that Grandpa Red made for a handicapped guest who used to visit every year and liked to sit on Whistler.
Grabbing hold of the sleigh, she managed to push it toward the doors, stopping as she got to the entrance to gather up her strength.
“Nicole!” Benny came darting down the hill from the house where he lived with Gracie and Grandpa, his down jacket wide open, his hat about to fly off his never-combed hair. “Are you going on a sleigh ride? Can I come? Please?”
“Hey, little cuz,” she called, waving him over. “No ride, but I need your muscles.”
“I don’t have muscles,” he said as he trudged through the snow. “And I’m technically your first cousin once removed. Although I don’t know what it’s removedfrom.”
She snorted a laugh at the family genius, loving her cousin’s son like a baby brother, no matter the technicalities of their bloodline. “You have enough muscles for this. I just need a little push onto the driveway. Once we’re there, it’ll slide easily enough.”
“What’s it for?”
“Decoration.”
“Why?” he asked, bracing himself next to her. Always,alwaysasking why, this kid.
“To attract customers. Push.”
“So, we don’t have to…move?” he grunted on the last word.
She froze, looking down at his childish features and the frosted glasses he’d worn since he was three. “What?”
“I heard Aunt Cindy and Grandma MJ talking last night. Aunt Cindy wants to move.”
“No, she doesn’t, and you shouldn’t worry about stuff like that, kiddo. Adults will handle it.”
“But Grandma MJ said we should put our thinking caps on.” He touched the green knit beanie on his head. “Great-grandpa Red says I’m ahumanthinking cap. I can help.”
