At the back of the scrapbook, Ruby found an envelope. Her heart leapt, hoping it might contain forgotten cash or bonds. Instead, she pulled out a series of crayon drawings—childish scribbles of UFOs and stick-figure aliens. With a jolt, Ruby recognized her own handiwork from when she was little.
“You kept these?” she asked, her fingers tracing the faded drawings. Her breath hitched as she realized how much these silly pictures must have meant to her uncle.
Ruby slumped against the trunk, feeling both defeat and unexpected emotion. She’d spent the entire day searching and had nothing to show for it except a newfound appreciation for her uncle’s eccentricities—and a reminder of the connection they’d shared, however brief.
From outside, Becket’s laughter rang out, followed by a chorus of bleats. Ruby shook her head, her frustration fading as she made her way to the window, watching as Becket led his little herd back to their pen.
As she observed him, Ruby was struck by how at home he looked here. In just a few short days, Becket and his goats had become as much a part of the landscape as the mountains in the distance. And if she was being honest with herself, she was starting to feel the same way.
The thought both thrilled and terrified her. This wasn’t the plan. She was supposed to come here, sell the house, and get back to her real life in Chicago. But with each passing day, the idea of returning to her tiny apartment and endless freelance gigs seemed less and less appealing.
“What am I doing?” Ruby muttered, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She thought about the townsfolk—how they’d welcomed her with open arms, how they’d laughed off Houdini’s antics instead of getting angry. She thought about Becket, with his laid-back nature and that wild idea of goat landscaping.
And she thought about Uncle Peter. His presence lingered in every corner of the house—in the quirky collections,the bizarre books, the years of accumulated memories. For the first time, Ruby felt truly connected to the uncle she had never fully known.
With a deep breath, Ruby straightened up. She might not have found anything valuable to sell, but that didn’t mean she was giving up. She’d made a promise to the town, and she was going to keep it—one way or another.
“Alright, Aspen Cove,” she said, a determined glint in her eye. “Let’s see what we can do about those decorations.”
As the sun began to set, painting the snow-covered landscape in shades of pink and gold, Ruby settled at the kitchen table with a notepad and pen. It was time to get creative. She might not have money, but she had two hands, a whole house full of weird and wonderful junk, and a town full of people who seemed willing to give her a chance.
A knock at the door interrupted her brainstorming. She opened it to find Becket, his cheeks red from the cold, a hesitant look on his face.
“Hey,” he said, stamping the snow from his boots. “Just wanted to check in. How’d the treasure hunt go?”
Ruby sighed, stepping back to let him in. “Well, if I ever need a souvenir spoon from a country I’ve never visited, I’m all set. Otherwise...” She shrugged, leading him into the kitchen.
Becket’s eyes widened as he took in the piles of odds and ends scattered around the room. “Wow. Your uncle sure liked to collect things, huh?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Ruby picked up one of the gnome snow globes, giving it a shake. “Want to see the pride of his collection?”
As she showed Becket the various gnome scenes, explaining each one with increasing amusement, the tension of the day began to ease for Ruby. Soon, they wereboth laughing, coming up with ridiculous backstories for each one.
“You know,” Becket said, setting down “Gnomes Go Fishing,” “these are kind of cute. In a weird way.”
Ruby nodded, surprised to find herself agreeing. “Yeah, they are. I think I’m going to keep them. A little piece of Uncle Peter’s particular brand of crazy.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the kitchen growing dim as the last of the daylight faded. Ruby was acutely aware of Becket’s presence, of the way he seemed to fill the space, bringing a sense of comfort that had nothing to do with the heating.
“So,” he said, nodding towards her notepad. “What’s the plan?”
Ruby took a deep breath. “I’m not sure yet. But I’m going to figure it out. I made a promise to this town, and I intend to keep it.”
Becket’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I don’t doubt it for a second. And hey, if you need any help—or if you decide those gnomes would make good Christmas decorations—just let me know.”
As he turned to leave, Ruby called out, “Becket?”
He paused at the door, looking back at her.
“Thanks,” she said. “For everything.”
His face brightened. “Anytime, Ruby. Anytime.”
After he left, Ruby turned back to her notepad, feeling re-energized. Tomorrow, she decided, she’d start making calls. Maybe Katie from the bakery would have some ideas. Or Doc Parker—he seemed to know everyone and everything in town.
For the first time since Houdini’s escapade, Ruby sensed that things might start to turn around. As she jotted down ideas, she realized that somewhere along the way,making things right with the town had become about more than just fulfilling a hasty promise. It had become about finding her place in Aspen Cove.
She paused, letting that thought sink in. She’d come here with every intention of leaving, but something was changing. As she glanced at the gnome snow globes, now arranged proudly on the kitchen windowsill, Ruby wondered if she was already halfway there. Was it possible for her to have a future here?