A Little Too Late (Madigan Mountain #1)(79)

After Reed says a few words, Tucker Block takes over for the ribbon cutting. “Friends, thanks for coming out today. It’s been a real pleasure to have one more chance to shape the town of Penny Ridge before my retirement. Before I turn things over to the next generation, you’re all invited on a chairlift ride. So let’s cut that ribbon—we’ve got these giant scissors.” He brandishes the silly things. “Before we’re ready to fly, we need a volunteer to cut the ribbon.”

“ME!” Sutton yells, bouncing forward. “I’ll do it!”

I think someone tipped her off that this was a possibility.

I think that someone was Reed. I saw them whispering together before the ceremony started.

“All right, young lady,” Tucker says. “Just don’t cut anything important.”

Callie, her big camera slung around her neck, follows to get a shot of her daughter cutting through the ceremonial ribbon. That photo will probably show up on the front of the Penny Ridge Gazette’s website tomorrow.

Sutton does her thing, and the ribbon flutters to the ground. Everyone applauds as Bert pulls a lever on the chairlift’s control panel.

The lift hums to life, and the cable begins to move. The first chair, passengerless, glides up to the starting line and then eases through.

“Let’s go up!” Sutton shrieks, handing the scissors to Bert. The crowd begins to shuffle into line.

“Ava,” Reed says, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Ready to ride to the top with me?”

“Almost. First I have to clean up this ribbon…” I bend over and scoop it off the ground. “And, honey? I saw your father and Melody. She wants you to try her new cookie recipe.”

“Later? Let’s just…”

“Yoo-hoo! Reed? Ava!” Melody calls. “Try these. They’re anzac biscuits. I learned the recipe on our trip to New Zealand.” She thrusts a large tray in our direction.

I help myself to a cookie and take a bite. “Yum! Is that coconut?”

“Sure is.” She takes me by the elbow and starts to tell me the story of the bakery where she first tried them.

When I glance at Reed, he looks annoyed.

“We’ll go up in a few minutes?” I suggest, and he nods.

As Melody finishes her story, Mark swoops in for a cookie and buttonholes Reed. “Have you thought any more about my idea?” Mark asks his son.

“Some,” Reed says. “But Ava and I were just about to ride up to the summit…”

“The line is long.” Mark points at the lift. It’s true, too. Lots of locals have queued up. “So give me a few minutes of your time. I want to run one more thing by you.”

Reed crosses his arms with an irritation that I haven’t seen for a while. He and his father have really repaired their relationship this year, so it’s rare for him to look put out by a chat with Mark.

“I was thinking about how to get your brothers more involved with the mountain,” Mark says. “And I want to sweeten the pot.”

“But we’ve been over this,” Reed argues. “It’s not easy for Weston or Crew to drop everything and come back to Colorado.”

“Sure, sure,” Mark says. “But read this anyway.” He hands Reed a folded piece of paper. “It’s a profit-sharing plan that my lawyer dreamed up. It’s immediately generous to you, Reed, because of the active role you’re taking in the company. But it would grant shares to your brothers, too, for each year they lived in Colorado working at the resort.”

Reed’s gaze meets mine for a split second, because Reed has a secret. He’s already pushing Weston to come back and run the heli skiing outfit. And it might actually happen.

But Weston is so cagey that Reed won’t believe it until he sees his brother behind the controls on a helipad. So he hasn’t kept his dad in the loop.

“All right,” Reed says slowly. “You want me to dangle a financial carrot in front of their noses? Fine.” He tucks the paper into a pocket. “I really don’t think money is the issue, though.”

Mark looks away. “I know that, Reed. But this is my only way of incentivizing them.”

“There’s always cookies,” Melody adds, trying to soften the mood. “Some people respond to millions of dollars. Some respond to toasted coconut.”

I grab another cookie off the tray. “We all know which one I am.”

Reed gives me an indulgent smile. “Come on, cookie monster. Time to ride the lift.”

Melody waves us off, and Reed and I get in the slow-moving line. When our turn arrives, we step up to the guideline just the two of us, but at the last second, Tucker hustles up and joins us. “Hey guys, mind if I ride up with you?”

“Sure!” I say, moving over to make more room.

Reed looks annoyed, and it makes me wonder if something is going on with him. Maybe he’s tired or coming down with something. He’s been quiet all day.

We’ve both been working hard. There were about a million weddings at the resort this summer, which kept me on my toes. And Reed hasn’t taken a day off in two weeks. He’s either testing the new chairlift or huddled with Block over blueprints and plans.

Meanwhile, we’re renovating the house where Reed grew up. “You take the house,” Mark had said after Reed moved back to Colorado. “Melody and I will be traveling, and it will just sit empty.”