Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Griffin
Ruby and I sit on the weathered bench, takeaway coffee heating our ungloved hands, as we watch the sun slip behind the mountains. Over the last week, it’s become our thing. A few minutes at the overlook.
Since telling Ruby that I’m staying at the Timberline, she hasn’t stopped chattering about the cotillion.
Everything from the live band to whether I own a bolo tie.
That Silver Pine’s version of a ‘cotillion’ is less formal and more country.
Listening to her stream of consciousness is like taking Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.
I’m learning not to let my mind wander when I’m around Ruby.
“You and Clara weren’t close?” she asks, the conversation shifting abruptly.
“We were when I was younger,” I say. “Less so in recent years. I didn’t truly know her like you did,” I admit. “But she meant a lot to me. When I told her I was considering going in a different direction than my dad, she encouraged me to try. She believed in me even when no one else did.”
“So your father’s not a finance guy?” she asks, curiosity in her voice.
I chortle, the sound soft and a little raw. “Far from it. Dad retired after forty years with the postal service. He always hoped I’d take a federal job, steady and predictable. But Clara pushed me to find my own path. To take risks. To build something I could be proud of.”
I sense Ruby has more questions, but she simply nods, tucking her knees up. “Clara believed in everyone. Even people who didn’t deserve it.”
I hesitate, then the words spill out. “My son’s in college now. I don’t see him much. My ex-wife got the house, the dog, the holidays. I got…the quiet.”
Ruby doesn’t fill the silence, and I’m struck by how unusual it is for me to share my private life like this. Vulnerability has never been my default, especially not with someone I’m technically working with.
She turns to face me, forcing me into her steady, gray-eyed gaze. Her presence is heavier than I expect, compelling in a way that makes me suddenly self-conscious. When she finally speaks, it’s soft. “Quiet can be good. But not forever.”
Something in my chest shifts, a sudden heat that counteracts the chilled air. Ruby’s easy warmth is unsettling, making me want to confess more, linger longer.. I tell her about my son, his studies, his hot-cold attitude towards me.
Ruby hangs on every word. No questions, no judgment.
When I’m done, we sit in silence watching Silver Pine wind down, the only sounds from the river brushing against rocks.
Maybe it’s just curiosity after the way she talked about the Valentine’s Day dance, like she really believes in starry-eyed romance but I say, “I’ll see you at the cotillion, then?”
I try telling myself it’s just a community event but the truth is, knowing she’ll be there gives it a different weight, one I can feel but not quite define. And . . . I want to see her there, witness her excitement. Even if I won’t admit it out loud.
She smiles, a heart-tugging, knowing smile, and lays her hand atop mine. A jolt shoots through me, her touch completely unexpected. I feel unmoored, aware of the buzzing electricity between us.
As we walk back to the car, I’m thinking maybe quiet isn’t all I want anymore.