Page 2 of Big Package

Their smiles and gratitude for helping them find the perfect gift provided a boost of confidence. I could figure this out. When life took a detour, I made lists, solved problems, and pivoted. I’d figured something out when the wedding fell apart, and again when the chance to take over the gift shop landed in my lap. I could figure out a missing shipment.

The minute the shop emptied, I called the shipping company. Four automated prompts, two rounds of hold music, and one transfer later, I reached an actual person.

“I know your system says it was delivered,” I said, wedging the phone against my shoulder while I retied the bow on a gift basket. “I’m at my shop. Unless the crate developed legs and popped down the street for a spiced apple cider, it’s not here.”

Janice covered a laugh with a cough.

The representative put me on hold while he looked into it. After ten minutes of listening to a bad instrumental version of “All I Want for Christmas Is You,” he came back with an explanation. Evidently, oversized packages went to a local partner for final delivery. Somewhere along the way, the partner’s address had been printed on the label instead of mine.

I swallowed the bite of pulled pork sandwich I’d taken. “What partner?”

Thirty seconds later, a delivery photo landed on my phone. There was my crate, all eight feet of it, sitting on the wide porch of a timber cabin next to a pair of black work boots.

“That’s definitely not Wrapped on Main.”

Janice came around the counter and peered over my shoulder. “Where’s that?”

The representative read me the partner’s name, and I mumbled to Janice. “Cole Maddox’s place.”

Janice gave a short laugh. “Good luck.”

“That bad?”

“He’s not exactly a people person.”

I remembered Cole but hadn’t seen him since I’d been back. He’d been several years ahead of me in school, and even then, he’d been one of those guys who had a chip on his shoulder and kept to himself. After graduation, he’d joined the military, and years later he’d come back to Big Wood, started Maddox Logistics & Hauling, and bought a place outside town. Depending on who you asked, Cole was private, antisocial, or “that Maddox boy who needs to get himself into town more,” which sounded exactly like something Janice would say.

The representative was still on the line, explaining that because the shipment had technically been delivered and they were swamped with holiday deliveries, they wouldn’t be able to get it to me until after Christmas. After begging and pleading, I finally ended the call.

“I take it they’re not going back to get it?” Janice asked.

“They can’t until after Christmas. I need that inventory. My preorders are in there.”

Her expression sobered. “All of them?”

“Twenty-seven.” Along with the tree and most of the items I’d planned to set up for the festival, there were twenty-seven boxes customers had already paid for and planned to pick up tomorrow, which meant waiting wasn’t an option.

I found the number for Maddox Logistics & Hauling. It rang four times before voicemail picked up.

“You’ve reached Cole. Leave a message.” That was the entire greeting, in his deep, gruff tone, with no explanation and no promise on how soon he’d return the call.

“Hi, Cole. This is Emmy Parker. You have something of mine.”

Janice pressed her lips together, and I closed my eyes.

“That sounded weird. I mean, there’s a shipment on your porch that was supposed to come to Wrapped on Main, and I need to pick it up, so please don’t open it.”

Why was I making this worse?

“Not because there’s anything strange inside. It’s a Christmas display and some merchandise.”

Janice made a snorting noise, and I glared at her.

“Anyway, call me.” I left my number and hung up.

Janice bit down on her lip.

“Not one word,” I warned.