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Ruby Radiance (Pot of Gold Geocaching Romance 2)

By Valerie Comer

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Chapter 1

That woman was doing it again.

Dale Kennedy rounded the end of the aisle in Communication Location: Gizmos, Gadgets, and More. “Excuse me, miss.”

Startled, she looked up. Glasses perched on the tip of her nose, giving her a librarian look only reinforced by streaked blond hair pulled back into a bun. “I’m sorry?”

Like she didn’t know what she was doing. “We don’t allow anyone to take photos inside the store without permission.” Which he wouldn’t give.

Her eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “I only needed to make the description on the product bigger so I could read it.”

It was Dale’s turn to be confused. “Pardon me?

She turned the box on the shelf toward him. “See the back? That’s extremely small print.”

He looked from her to the product and back again. “It’s fairly standard.”

“I know.” She sighed. “It’s not my fault I can’t read text that tiny.”

“What’s that got to do with taking photos?”

“I took one of the specs.” She angled her phone toward him then spread her fingers on the image. “See? I can enlarge it enough so I can actually read it and study the features.”

The phone displayed about five words at a time as she slid her finger down a sentence. Dale stopped himself from looking for a white cane or a seeing-eye dog. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Okaaay. But what are you looking at GPS units for?”

The woman tucked the phone into her purse and gave him a duh look. “For geocaching?”

“If you can’t see, how are you going to find caches?” He didn’t even want to think about her behind the wheel of a car. At least it was a handheld she’d examined, not a dash-mount.

“I joined the Pot of Gold Treasure Hunt. This store listed a coupon for global positioning systems for those registered. If I’m going to get treated like this, I’ll go elsewhere.”

He’d only been in business a year. Communication Location wasn’t the only retailer in Jewel Lake that sold electronics, and Missoula wasn’t that far away, either. He couldn’t afford to send potential customers away, even if they rubbed him the wrong way. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”

The woman sighed. “And I’m not usually this prickly. When I came in, you were busy with someone else, and I didn’t want to intrude. Perhaps now that you’re here, you could advise me on which one will be best for my needs.”

Dale shoved aside the obvious questions of how a more-than-half-blind woman could possibly tromp around in the woods without endangering herself. No judging. Just serving customers. He reached for a unit on the top shelf and handed it to her. “This one has a larger screen, if that helps.” Though nothing would get the resolution to match the size on her expanded photo.

She turned the box over. “What are the other features?”

And she was going to search for caches out in the wild? He managed to avoid the headshake and read off the list. “It has everything you’ll need for geocaching.” Except improved eyesight.

“And the price?”

Dale quoted it. “It is one of our higher-end models, but I think you’ll be happy with it.”

“Do you geocache?”

“Some. My brother really got into it last summer at the first Pot of Gold Treasure Hunt.” That wasn’t all Kirk had gotten into. He’d met the event organizer, Lyssa Quinn, fallen in love, and become a Christian. A lot of changes. Too many of them for Dale’s comfort level.

“This year they’re grouping people in teams who want to join but don’t know anyone who wants to participate.” The woman adjusted the chopstick poked through her bun. “I put my name on the list for a team.”

“Oh, did you? Me, too. I’m not sure how much time I can devote to the hunt with running the store, and I didn’t want to get in over my head. Hopefully, joining a group like that means there will be someone more experienced in charge. Someone who knows the area.”

“I think they expect every group member to pull their share. You might have to do more than you thought.” Her face lit right up with her smile, making her rather pretty.

Not that Dale noticed such things. He angled his head and raised his eyebrows. “Are you teasing me?”

She chuckled. “Maybe I am. My name is Trinity Grant, by the way. Maybe I’ll see you at the kick-off on the weekend.”

“I’m Dale Kennedy and, yes, I’ll be there. My brother is back in town helping run the store over the summer, so I can take some time off.” Kirk had been a bit pushy about it, actually, insisting it was time Dale had a social life again. Maybe meet somebody. Dale hadn’t been able to convince his little brother that he didn’t want to meet anyone. It had only been a year and a half since the light of his life and wife of six years had passed away. It was too soon.

It would probably always be too soon.

“Okay, well, I’ll pay for this unit then.” Trinity grasped the strap of her purse slung over her chest. “It should do the trick.”

“I’m sure it will.” Dale led the way to the counter and rang up the sale. “Sorry about hassling you about taking the photo. I assumed the only reason someone would do that would be to compare pricing and order the same model online.”

Her startled gaze met his. “Oh, I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.” How could eyes as clear as hers be deficient in sight? She didn’t look half blind.

“Thanks. See you Saturday then.”

Trinity smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. “I’ll look out for you. We newbies need to stick together.” With a wave of her fingers, she disappeared out the front door.

Maybe joining the treasure hunt wouldn’t be as horrible as it sounded when Kirk first prodded him toward the idea. Dale hadn’t had a social life in several years. Caring for Debbie in her final fight had drained so much of his energy and time. Then he’d cut ties in Kalispell and moved to Jewel Lake. Back to his roots, to a place with fewer memories of his precious wife.

A social life might be a possibility. A replacement for Debbie? Not so much.

***

“Trinity Grant?” The woman at the folding table slid her finger down the list. “There you are. You’re in Group 23. Each has four members, and we’ve done our best to mix everyone up demographically.”

“Sounds good. Where do I find my group?” She leaned over the table a bit, peering at the woman’s name tag. “If you don’t mind my asking, Lyssa.”

The tree-lined park next to Creekside Fellowship milled with people — probably hundreds of them — in all shapes, sizes, colors, and styles. Maybe she was crazy to throw herself at the mercy of strangers, even if they were church people. She’d paid good money to enter the Pot of Gold Treasure Hunt, to say nothing of having purchased an expensive GPS unit.

The woman gave her a quizzical look. “The group numbers are on the flags at the end of the rows?”

Trinity tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t see very well. Can you point me in the right direction?”

“Um, sure. Just down on the left, about halfway to the bandstand. Will that work for you? Of course, your group is welcome to move your chairs closer to the stage once you’ve all found each other.”

“Okay, thanks for your help.” She gritted her teeth. If one more person hinted that she couldn’t handle the hunt, she was going to scream. They could be a little more supportive. Dad had laughed his head off.

Trinity shoved him out of her mind as she headed down the grassy aisle between rows of folding chairs.

She intended to win this hunt, but everything depended on the rest of her team. With the problems in her right eye — her formerly good eye — she’d be hard pressed to come out on top without help, but she’d definitely do her part. Hopefully, the people she’d be hanging out with for the next couple of months would be fun. And motivated.

Lyssa had been correct. The orange pennants at the end of each row did have numbers on them. Trinity made her way toward the front until she saw 23 then scrunched her eyes shut for a brief second. God? I could use some help here. I’m out of my depth.

When she opened them again, the man from Communication Location stood in front of her. “Hi, Trinity? Which group are you looking for?”

She offered a smile. “Twenty-three. Looks like I’ve found it.”

“Oh, cool. That’s mine, as well. This is Silas Bell, and we’re waiting for our fourth.” He indicated a graying American Indian man. “Silas, this is Trinity. Sorry, I can’t remember your last name.”

Oh, man, why did she have to be stuck with a cute guy who just wanted a little something to do in his leisure time? She leaned past him to shake the older man’s hand. “Grant. Trinity Grant. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Was it okay to pray that their fourth member was female, not geriatric, and a keen geocacher? But the rows were filling quickly with no one heading their direction. She edged past the two men and took the next seat. Any second now the store owner would tell the other one she was blind as a mole. But he didn’t.

“Welcome to the second annual Pot of Gold Treasure Hunt!” a man’s voice boomed through the sound system. “Do any of you need help finding your team? Give a wave if you do, and one of the volunteers will point you in the right direction.”

Thankfully, that wasn’t her. Not this time. But it didn’t seem their fourth member was in the park, as the chair beside Trinity remained empty.

“I’m Eli Bryson, the youth pastor at Creekside Fellowship next door. If you’re a member of our congregation, if you attend a different church in town, no church at all, or even are visiting from out of town, you’re all welcome here. We had a great time last summer, and we have about one hundred more people registered this year. We introduced the groups this time around since so many of last year’s contestants were visitors who wanted to team with locals. Of course, you’re still welcome to go solo or in groups of your own choosing — no more than four to a team to keep things fair — but I’m thrilled so many of you took a chance on getting to know some new friends.”

Silas nodded at her with a grin. She smiled back.

“A refresher for repeaters, and important information for the newcomers on how the event works, okay? So, everyone, listen up. There’s a complex points rundown in your entry packet. Please look it over carefully. Every cache your group finds when at least two members are present counts as one point.” Eli chuckled. “Please take a selfie with the notebook in the cache as proof of who was there. We’ll be doing random checks. You can also gain bonus points by discovering the special Pot of Gold tokens, planting more caches — please register those with Lyssa at the hunt office in the church — solving riddles in the weekly emails, and attending every rally. And who knows? We might come up with additional ways to earn bonus points over the next two months, so keep an eye on your email and the hunt website.”

It sounded straightforward enough.

“Now we’ll give your groups about fifteen minutes to get to know one another before we continue with the details. And... go!”

Dale turned to Silas with a frown. “Do we know who our fourth is? I wonder if something happened to him or her.”

Silas shook his head. “I can find out at the registration desk after the rally if you like.”

“We’re going to need all the help we can get,” muttered Dale.

Was that supposed to be directed at her? Thanks, dude.

“How much geocaching have you two done?” Silas looked between them.

“Not much. I’ve gone with my brother and sister-in-law a couple of times.” Dale raised his eyebrows at her.

As if he didn’t know. Trinity raised her chin and looked straight at the store owner. “My GPS unit is brand new. I’ve read up on it online and found the starter cache in the church playground to get an idea of how it works. But I’m ready to roll.”

“You two will be pros in no time. I’ve been geocaching for years. Of course, that was in Idaho, and I’m not as familiar with the local area.”

Whew. At least one of them had some experience. “Why the move to Montana?”

“My wife and I had a vacation home in Agate Bay and always loved it here. After Annie passed on and I retired, I moved here permanently.”

Dale’s lips pressed tightly together.

The man had nothing to say? Whatever. That made it Trinity’s turn. “I was raised in Jewel Lake and recently moved back. I did a fair bit of hiking and boating in the area as a teen.”

“What brought you home?” asked Silas. “Not that I blame you. Such a beautiful area.”

“I’m a potter, and I can work anywhere, really.”

Dale’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t you have to be able to see to be a potter?”
Did he have to blurt out everything he thought?

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