Read Online Christmas At Copper Mountain (A Copper Mountain Christmas) by Jane Porter - Free Book Online

Marietta middle school. They sat in the back of the class, daydreaming and inattentive, rarely participating, and even more rarely turning in completed work. At the end of the year, the principal met with him, and recommended that Mack and Molly attend summer school to catch up on what they’d missed this year, and recommended that the twins have more structure come Fall. The twins, the principal added, were extremely bright, but highly unmotivated, more interested in their own private world than learning and applying themselves.
    The twins went to summer school, kicking and screaming every day for the two intensive sessions, and then in late August, he took them by train to New York, again kicking and screaming, where he’d enrolled them at the prestigious Academy for the new school year.
    The twins were upset that he left them there, but it was for their own good. They needed to be challenged, they needed to learn discipline, and they needed the study skills and good grades required for college.
    But now here they were, home early, and getting into trouble. What was he going to do with them?
    He surveyed their blank faces and realized they weren’t going to come clean, and it just made him even angrier. Why wouldn’t they listen? Why couldn’t they cooperate? What was wrong with them? “So no one knows anything,” he said curtly. “Fine. Don’t know anything, and don’t tell me. In fact, I don’t think I even want to know now. I just want you two to go to bed.”
    “Bed?” Mack said.
    “But it’s not even four, Dad!” Molly cried, staring up at him in horror.
    “— without dinner,” Brock concluded, unmoved. “Mack, head on up. Put on your pajamas and get into bed. Molly will be up as soon as I get her bandaged up. Goodbye, and goodnight.”
    Mack walked out, looking beaten, and Molly was silent as Brock cleaned the wound and then used a butterfly bandage from the medicine cabinet to tightly close the cut. It should heal without a scar, but even if it did scar a bit, it wouldn’t be Molly’s first. Molly was definitely his wild one, while Mack was gentler and quiet, like his mom.
    Brock felt a pang as he thought of Amy. His wife had only the pregnancy and then six months with the babies before she died. She never knew them, not the way he did. He wondered if she’d be disappointed in him, as a father. He wasn’t a perfect father, not by any means, but he loved his kids. He loved them so much he’d sent them across the country to ensure they had the best education. He hated it when they were gone. The house was too empty. He was too empty. Life wasn’t the same without them. But he had to put the kids’ needs first. The prep school would get them into the best universities in the country and that’s what Amy had always wanted for their children. A loving foundation, a great education, and rewarding careers. Brock was trying hard to honor Amy’s dreams, but it wasn’t easy.
    He’d missed the kids when they were gone, and selfishly, he was glad they were back. But they weren’t back for good. He’d drag them back to New York, kicking and screaming if he had to. This was for them.
    And Amy.
    Amy hadn’t had a future. He needed to make sure her children did.
    Once Molly was patched up and gone, Brock washed his hands at the sink and then dried them on a hand towel, glancing in Harley Diekerhoff’s direction.
    Earlier she’d lifted off the burned pastry crust from the top of the pies, throwing it away, before scooping the warn apple pie filling from inside the pie shell, transferring the golden gleaming filling into a dozen ceramic ramekins.
    Now she mixed brown sugar and cinnamon and some chopped nuts with a little flour and a lot of butter, creating a crumbly brown sugar mixture.
    “Making a crumble,” he said, surprised, but pleased. He’d been disappointed that the pies burned. He loved apple pie. He’d wondered if one of the kids had told her it was his favorite dessert.
    She nodded,