Chapter 1 #2
Eliana had never met her biological grandfather.
He had been long gone before Eliana’s mother was even born.
Her grandmother had spent the 70s roaming.
She had been very much in her Stevie Nicks era at the time, and Eliana held her grandmother’s fashion sense in very high esteem.
In fact, she was wearing some of her pieces now.
A fringe macramé vest that had tassels that hit the back of her calves as she walked, a pair of corduroy bellbottoms, and a T-shirt, which was her own purchase that said: I’m not like other girls, I’m worse.
She was still hovering by the door to the saloon when it shot open suddenly, and she was nearly barreled over by a massive figure in a black cowboy hat.
Even before she got a visual recognition on him, her body knew who it was. Immediately.
Her heart slammed hard against her breastbone, and she found herself struggling to breathe.
“Cooper.”
He looked down at her, down because she was so much shorter than he was. But he was almost impractically large. The scale was actually ridiculous. No human man needed to be over six foot four. It was excessive at that point. Cooper Langdon was an excess of man and masculinity.
The Emperor card.
She gritted her teeth. She knew better than to be too sassy to the universe, because it tended to rebound on her, but she had the impulse to roll her eyes at whatever force was at work here.
She had been compelled to go into that saloon, and because she had resisted, something had compelled him out.
There had been no avoiding Cooper today, apparently.
But wasn’t that the story of her life? He was always there.
She remembered having a date to homecoming her freshman year, and seeing him – a junior at the time – with his date, and she’d just wanted to die, because he was everything she wanted, everything a man was supposed to be, and she was with some poor reedy kid from D&D club, which was fine.
Great even, she loved D&D. But for some reason, in spite of her commonalities with her date…
the Cooper of it all made it impossible for her to lean in to that date.
To enjoy dancing with him. To even want to kiss him a little bit.
Though that could have actually been because he had clear braces and they got stained by the bright red punch he drank, and then it was all she could look at.
The specter of Cooper had effectively cock blocked her all through high school and beyond. And once she’d convinced herself that her fantasy was nothing but a childish holdover that wasn’t based in reality, she’d been sure she could
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“That’s fine. I was standing by the door. Which isn’t really the smartest thing to do.”
“I would have thought you had some kind of Spidey sense about that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not psychic, Cooper. I’m simply in possession of a deep knowing.”
“Okay. Did you not have a deep knowing about the fact that you might get yourself hit by the door if you stood right next to it?”
“I think that’s common sense and not deep knowing. I was just distracted.” She scrunched her face. “Actually,” she said, keeping pace with him as he began to walk. “I was hoping to speak to you anyway.”
“Were you?”
“I was. About the haunted hayride.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What haunted hayride?”
“The one I would like you to do.”
He stopped. He pushed his cowboy hat back on his forehead, and her breath caught in her throat.
He was a singularly beautiful man. He had piercing blue eyes, a perfectly square jaw, and the kind of lips that made her want to cast love spells.
Except she knew better than to get into love spells.
There had been a whole situation where her grandmother had attempted to do a love spell to counteract the curse, and…
Pregnant by the side of the road. It was bad.
“You would like me to do a haunted hayride?”
“Yes. Please.” She was giving him her best insistent stare. She’d been told that she was very convincing. She only hoped that she was convincing when it came to him.
“And what’s in it for me?”
“I mean, I know that you’re hoping to get a permit to serve alcohol out at the ranch, and that you want to have your beer label served in town. It seems to me that a very good way to do that would be to participate. In community activities.”
“Is that like… bribery?”
“These are small-town politics,” she said. “Nothing is too petty. And I think you know that.”
He ran his hand over his face. She knew that he did, in fact, know that.
There had been some resistance to his family serving beer out of the ranch, even though it was ten minutes outside of the town proper.
Still, there were always concerns about things that might limit people coming into town and patronizing the local establishments.
Even though she was of the mind that you wanted good selection in an area.
If you wanted to be a real draw. There had to be multiple places to stay, multiple places to get drinks, lots of local brands.
She was of the mindset that the more was in fact the merrier.
But, of course, there were concerns.
Although the people who should have the biggest concerns about that were the Hartleys, and given that Cooper had just been in their establishment, that seemed to indicate that they had no real issue.
“I think it would be a great look for you. To be seen as a real participant. A key thread woven into the fabric of Wild Rose Point.”
“You’re getting a little ridiculous now.”
“I am a little ridiculous. Always.”
“Can’t argue with that. What exactly are you aiming to do with this haunted hayride?”
“It’s just going to be a spooky little ride through town. In the evening, when there isn’t a whole lot of traffic anyway. We can circle the block, and then go up toward the state park. We’re bound to see some elk bedding down for the night, and the park rangers have put up some spooky decorations.”
“Can an elk technically be haunted?”
“You have to ask the elk. You don’t know what they’ve seen.”
“Great. I think you might be stretching the truth in advertising there.”
“I’ll tell ghost stories,” she said. “I’ll ride up top on a little haybale, and I’ll be spooky.”
He looked skeptical about that. “You’re going to be spooky?”
“I’ll dust off my witch hat.”
“You have a literal witch hat?”
“I’m a witch,” she said.
His expression went from skeptical to outright disbelieving. “Okay. So what schedule are you thinking?”
“I’m going to have to confirm with the chamber, but I think probably Friday and Saturday nights in October.”
“I want my beer served at some of these drink stations you all have going up for the festive season in town.”
She gave him a look of mock shock. “So you do know about what’s going on in town.”
“Eliana, I’m serious. I want something in return. Not just specious promises that I’m going to curry favor by participating.”
“That’s a lot of ten-dollar words, cowboy.”
“Well, you know me. I’m a cowboy who loves his literature.”
“And yet, you’ve never taken a book that I’ve recommended.”
“Yeah, the Laws of Pagan Attraction isn’t really appealing to me.”
“Your loss.”
He sighed heavily. “All right. You talk to Lenora, and then you text me about whether or not she agrees to have my beer.”
“I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow.”
She didn’t see why it would be an issue.
“Goodbye, Eliana.”
“Goodbye, Cooper.”
She watched him walk across the street, toward where he was parked, right in front of the art gallery.
Then she turned away, and continued on up the sidewalk, off the main street of town, where the Sanderson house sat, up on a little rise, a partial view of the ocean, one of the best things that it boasted.
The house had come into their possession much the same way The Water Witch had. Her grandmother’s third marriage.
While the Sanderson women didn’t get to keep the loves of their life, they did get to keep certain… Souvenirs from the relationships. Be they children or property.
A single mother, her grandmother had shown up in Wild Rose Point, and ended up married to an older man who owned The Water Witch, which was a candy shop at the time, and this house.
When he passed, the house, and the store came into her possession.
The house itself was eclectic. Filled to the brim with crystals, books on different aspects of magic, and stacks of tarot decks.
While Eliana didn’t necessarily believe in magic in the sense that she didn’t think she could cast a literal spell and…
transform something physically or make objects float.
But, she couldn’t deny that her life was touched by those sorts of unexplainable magics. Like a curse. And like the way other things in her life seemed to work out.
That was the trouble. Other things worked for her.
She thought about that as she walked up the little path to the house and stamped up the front steps.
Things were going well in her business, as they were going well for her grandmother and her mother.
She had wonderful friendships. Easy relationships in the town.
When she set her mind to something, it always went well.
The exception to that was romance. And sex.
She grimaced.
All her attempts had been slapstick-comedy-levels of disastrous.
She had made several attempts to understand what all the fuss was about. All had ended in peril.
While her mother and grandmother had no luck with romance, they certainly enjoyed the company of lovers.
Her brother was the same. He couldn’t hang onto a relationship for very long, but he was never without a woman in his bed if he wanted one.
And he seemed to want one frequently. Even though he lived in a small camper at the RV park outside town half the time, he still managed to hook up.
It was a testament to his looks and charm.