Lance withdrewa hanger from the box and slipped the jacket onto it. They’d received a new shipment of winter gear, just in time for the ‘Storm of the Century’ that the locals—along with every meteorologist within a hundred-mile radius—predicted would come rolling through any minute.
Things like bottled water, toilet paper, and spare generators flew off the shelves first, but Holden knew last-minute shoppers would pack their store, hoping to purchase a few necessary items before the storm hit. When you had to dig your way out of your own home, it was best done in the warmest, cold-weather clothing possible.
They’d already had a few phone calls that afternoon checking on their wool sock and long underwear inventory. When they’d opened up Major Hart Mountain Sports years ago, Holden figured they would stick to the adventure side of things: snowboards and skis, helmets and goggles. All the gear for a run down the hill.
It had been at Lance’s urging that they integrated more everyday items. They even stocked blankets, and currently, they were down to just two remaining. Vacationers and travelers visiting the mountain for a short period of time rarely brought the extra items needed to weather an epic storm. It was a smart business decision to have these products in the shop.
They unboxed the first delivery and moved on to the next. They’d already had two snowmobile tour cancellations that day, and Holden figured more would follow suit.
It hadn’t stormed yet, but the threat of it loomed over the summit in a heavy cloak of gray.
“What did you think of the guy from the other day?” Lance asked as they continued to price new inventory and get it onto shelves. “The one we interviewed.”
Holden had liked Brady. He shared a similar love for high-elevation sports and his resume corroborated his wealth of experience on the slopes. And he seemed easygoing, a necessary trait in their line of work. He was personable, professional, and down-to-earth—the perfect fit.
“I say we make him an offer. We’ve only got a few months left in the snow season and I think we could use him on staff.” Holden folded a stack of beanies and moved them to a lower shelf along the wall. “And he’s an avid mountain biker, which will bode well for our summer crowd.”
Neither Holden nor Lance were all that into mountain biking: Lance with his bum knee and Holden with the memory of the time he went over the handlebars and landed in a nest of angry hornets. That memory stung in more ways than one. But when all the snow melted and winter passed, their hill transformed into an entirely different sort of playground. Where snowmobiles once carved across packed slopes of snow, bike tires formed new grooves in the dirt.
Holden usually led hiking expeditions on foot, and even the nearby horse stables utilized the terrain for mounted, guided tours. It would be good to have another adventurer on staff, one with a set of skills they currently lacked.
“I’ll call him this evening.” Lance used his pocketknife to cut through the packing tape on another large box. “Speaking of, you planning on making any phone calls? Maybe to a certain someone named Rachel?”
“That was the lamest transition ever.” Holden groaned at his friend.
“I know. Not my smoothest.”
“The answer is no. I haven’t called her. But I did run into her at the General Store and let’s just say, the cat is completely out of the bag and there’s no way I can wrangle it back in without getting my eyes clawed out.”
“You’re going to have to translate that for me.”
“She knows who I am. And she knows we were at her parents’ place measuring the tree.”
Lance looked up. “How is that possible? We got out of there without anyone seeing us. I’m sure of it.”
“Her parents have a security camera and captured us on it.”
“And she figured out you aren’t actually Buddy?”
“You guessed it.”
Lance broke down an empty box and moved it to the pile of folded cardboard boxes headed for the recycling dumpster. “There’s got to be a little relief in that, right? That you both finally know the other’s true identity?”
“Maybe a little.” Holden sighed. “I mean, she just seems so different. It’s hard to believe she’s the same girl I disliked so much back in the day.”
“They say there’s a thin line between love and hate.”
Holden bristled. “Who says that?”
“People.” Lance squared his shoulders confidently. “Scientists.”
“Scientists say love and hate are the same thing?” Holden sincerely doubted that.
“Not that they are the same thing, but that the brain registers the emotions the same. Something like that. I don’t know. I didn’t come up with it.”
“But it sort of sounds like you did.”
“All I’m saying is that maybe this animosity you’ve built up toward Rachel over the years was really something else in disguise,” Lance conceded with his hands up.
