Courage of the Mountain (Curves in Hope Mountain #3)

Chapter 1

LILY

My hands tremble as I read the latest letter from Top Spot Realty. “Ouch!” I exclaim, setting down my cup of coffee. I grab a rag and wipe off the scalding liquid that spilled over my hand.

Sighing, I close my eyes and try to calm my racing thoughts. It’s not the first letter I’ve received from the aggressive real estate company trying to buy this small mountain town. They want to give Hope Mountain a “facelift,” as their letters explain.

I’ve informed them in numerous replies that my bookstore, Between the Covers, is not a sixty-year-old woman getting an invasive surgery so she can look twenty years younger.

In fact, I’m pretty damn proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish in the last few years.

And I’m not about to let my blood, sweat, and tears go to waste.

This time, the letter informs me of the rising cost of insurance for small businesses like mine, and how a lot of the plans don’t cover damages from accidents. I’m not sure why they’re telling me this. Is it a threat? What is this, the real estate mafia?

It would be a shame if something happened to your quaint little bookstore…

I roll my eyes at my paranoid thoughts. That kind of thing doesn’t happen around here. I’m sure it’s just another scare tactic.

I fold the letter up and stuff it in its envelope, sticking out my tongue when I see the Top Spot Realty logo stamped on the outside. I toss the whole thing in the trash, then busy myself with cleaning up my office.

It’s still weird to think about this being my office.

I have the desk mostly cleared off from the previous owners, but the metal shelves and filing cabinets still need to be emptied and replaced with something more my style.

Refurbishing the office is the last thing on my ever-growing to-do list, however.

I’ve worked here since high school, alongside the owners, Daryl and Marsha Foster. The two opened Between the Covers over thirty years ago, and it’s been a staple in Hope Mountain ever since.

Last year, Marsha started having serious medical issues, leading to the discovery of multiple tumors. The shocking news rippled through the community, and like true small-town residents, we all pitched in to help them through.

The ladies’ prayer circle at First Baptist coordinated meals–mostly hearty casseroles that freeze well and stick to your bones. The last time I checked, the deep freeze in the Foster’s basement was still half-full of untouched casseroles.

For my part, I took over most of the day-to-day responsibilities of the bookstore as Marsha and Daryl went to doctor appointments, dealt with multiple surgeries, and spent time resting. Thankfully, all the tumors have been removed, and Marsha is well on her way to making a full recovery.

The whole ordeal made Daryl and Marsha rethink how they wanted to spend their golden years–and when those golden years would start. The two wanted to travel and have the experiences they always said they would. I absolutely adore that for them. Daryl and Marsha are couple goals for sure.

However, I’ve found that getting a hold of retired people traveling the country is more difficult than I thought. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy they are enjoying their lives. But I need some signatures from them so I can start enjoying mine.

Speaking of… I rifle through the stack of papers on the chair next to my desk, counting the dozen or so forms that I need Daryl to look over and sign to make the sale official.

Thinking back to the letter from Top Spot, I realize I don’t actually have the insurance information.

I should probably know the policy and where to pay and what it covers and…

I take another deep breath, willing the stampede of worries to subside. Some days, I feel confident and filled with pride at how hard I’ve worked to prove myself trustworthy to the Fosters.

Other days, like today, I feel entirely overwhelmed, and I start doubting that I have what it takes to continue the legacy the Fosters built.

I can handle inventory, stocking, and customers, but liability insurance?

Taxes? Employee payroll? There’s so much more going on behind the scenes than I planned for.

I dial Marsha’s number, not sure if she’s going to pick up. The two lovebirds are doing a West Coast tour, starting in Seattle and ending in Southern California.

“Lily! How are you, dear?”

I smile at her warm greeting. My heart clenches up tightly in my chest, and I realize I’ve missed them immensely.

Over the years working for the Fosters, they’ve become my de facto grandparents, especially after my grandmother, who raised me, passed away five years ago.

It was shortly after my eighteenth birthday, and I’ve had a hole in my heart ever since.

I wish my older brother, Hayden, had stuck around a bit longer after the funeral, but his bereavement leave from the military was only for two weeks.

Even though he’s out of the military now, Hayden rarely comes back to Hope Mountain.

He’s busy doing contract work as a bodyguard.

I understand. I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m not lonely.

“Lily? You still there?” Marsha’s voice pulls me out of my sad, spiraling thoughts.

“Yes, sorry,” I rush to say. “I’m plugging along over here,” I tell her. “Are you enjoying the West Coast?”

“Very much so. Oh–hey there! Sir?” I can tell Marsha has pulled the phone away from her ear so she can talk to someone else.

I hear her muffled voice, joined by Daryl a few seconds later.

“Yes, another mimosa for me. My husband here will have a Bloody Mary.” I grin at their morning drink orders, but I know it means she’s going to be distracted. “Sorry, hun. Where were we?”

“I know you guys are out right now, but I was hoping you could look into something once you get back to your hotel. Can you forward me the insurance information for the store? I’m sure you have statements that have been emailed recently, which would give me the policy number.”

“Daryl, do you know about the insurance?” she asks her husband.

“No, the insurance for Between the Covers.” They share a back-and-forth, then Marsha speaks to me again.

“We can cover whatever you need until we get that information to you. I’m sorry we left you with a bit of a paperwork mess, but we’ll help you sort out the details when we get back next month. How does that sound?”

We might not have a store to insure by the time you get here.

I don’t tell her that, of course. “Sure,” I say with far more enthusiasm and patience than I feel at the moment. “There’s no emergency; I was just trying to get my ducks in a row.”

I bite the side of my cheek, a nervous habit I’ve developed over the years. I appreciate everything the Fosters have done for me, but I really need to make the sale official. Especially now that I have sleazy real estate moguls breathing down my neck.

“Great business meeting, Lily,” she says with a chuckle. I can tell she’s working on her second beverage, which means Marsha is a bit tipsy. I don’t have high hopes that she’ll look through her email later today, but there’s not much I can do about it now.

Instead of getting lost in all the things I still need to figure out, I decide to focus on what’s in my control. The store opens soon, so I make my way out to the front, adjusting a few displays before unlocking the door.

I spin on my heel and face the displays and rows of bookshelves, beaming at the little slice of bookworm heaven.

The store is organized by genre, with fiction on the right side and non-fiction on the left.

We have a diverse selection of historical books, thrillers, spiritual guides, fantasy novels, and everything in between.

Perhaps the largest section is the romance books, which is where I really shine.

A wistful smile curls up one side of my lips as I think of the first romance book I ever read.

The hero was a growly, sexy mountain man who fell hard and fast for his one true love.

My cheeks flush slightly as I remember the steamy scenes…

and the fact that I pictured my brother’s best friend in every single one.

My dirty little secret is that eight years and a thousand romance books later, he’s still the only man I think of when I indulge in an extra-spicy book.

Aside from expanding the romance section from mostly Regency romance to include contemporary and darker romance, my biggest accomplishment was adding little reading nooks throughout the store.

Marsha loved the idea and gave me free rein to make my dream a reality.

Looking at the beanbags, fluffy pillows, and lamps giving off a warm, cozy light, I’m reminded of why the Fosters trusted their business to me in the first place.

This store is a part of me, and it has been since day one.

That’s why I can’t let this place slip through my fingers. I have to fight for it, even if that means going up against Top Spot Realty.

I turn my attention to the back wall, where there are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. They are equipped with sliding ladders that could rival Belle’s library in Beauty and the Beast. It’s my favorite part of Between the Covers, and a huge draw to those in town.

It’s been a bit since I’ve dusted along those top shelves. Since I probably won’t have any customers until closer to noon, I decide to tackle this cleaning project to distract me from my worries.

With a new mission on my mind, I grab a duster and a cleaning rag before climbing up one of the ladders. I get lost in the methodic swish-swish-swish of the feather duster as I make my way from one side of the wall to the other.

I’m about halfway done when the bell above the door rings, alerting me to a customer. “I’ll be right with you!” I call out in my cheeriest voice. I set the duster on the shelf so I know where I left off, then start the long descent to the floor.

My nose tickles, probably from the dust particles, and I hold my breath, trying not to sneeze. The pressure mounts in my sinuses, and I scrunch up my nose, but it’s too late.

“Achoo!” The sneeze knocks me backward, but I grip the sides of the ladder and hang on for dear life.

My foot slips right as another sneeze takes over my senses.

Try as I might, my fingers lose their grip on the ladder, and I bang my knee on one of the rungs.

This pushes me farther away from my anchoring point, and then I’m falling, falling, falling…

I’m suspended in air for a horrifying moment that stretches on for an eternity, and I shut my eyes, preparing for a brutal landing. I feel like I’ve been bracing for impact in every area of my life, so it’s almost poetic in a twisted way. Full-circle moment and all that.

The last thought in my head as I drop to my inevitable doom is that I wonder if my insurance will cover this.

Instead of landing on the hardwood floor with a splat, I’m engulfed in a warm embrace.

It almost feels like someone is holding me, but that can’t be right.

A crisp, earthy scent wraps around me. It’s familiar, yet I can’t quite place it.

The breath has been knocked out of my lungs, but I don’t feel the agonizing pain of broken bones like I was expecting.

I can’t open my eyes just yet, so I take a moment to sink into the unexpected comfort. Maybe I died on impact, and my version of heaven includes being cradled by a muscled man who smells like peppermint and pine trees.

A deep rumbling sound vibrates through me, and I realize someone is chuckling. It’s also familiar, yet somehow unknown. “You’re not dead, but I wouldn’t mind being in heaven with you.”

Did I say that out loud? I must have. But wait. I know that voice. It can’t possibly be…

I gasp and snap my eyes open. It’s him, my older brother’s best friend. The only man I’ve ever had a crush on.

One look in Heath’s eyes tells me he’s just as shocked as I am.