Page 41 of One Hundred Humbugs

Doc shook his head. “No, son. You either buy my next beer—because I’m gonna need it when the kids start climbing on my lap—or you play me a game of tic-tac-toe.” He nodded toward a grid already drawn up on a napkin on the bar, as if it was just waiting for a challenger. “But I should warn you ... I never lose.”

Becket shook his head, grinning. “So, I’m buying the beer either way, huh?”

Doc leaned back, a satisfied look on his face. “Maybe. But it’s cheaper than a copay. Could be your lucky day. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

Becket took a breath, fiddling with the edges of the napkin grid. “It’s Ruby,” he confessed. “I want her to stay, more than anything. But I don’t have any right to ask her to. I mean, it’s not even my house she’s trying to figure out. I don’t want to be the guy who makes her feel like she has to choose me over everything she’s got waiting back in Chicago.”

Doc placed an O on the napkin, the pencil scratching against the paper as he leaned in. “You know, son, Ruby seems like a smart woman. From what I hear, she already got an offer sight unseen, didn’t she?”

Becket nodded, still staring at the tic-tac-toe board. “Yeah. Could’ve signed the papers, been done with it.”

“But she didn’t,” Doc said with a knowing nod. “She’s stalling, isn’t she? Did you ever wonder why?”

Becket looked up, meeting Doc’s steady gaze. “Yeah, I do.”

“That’s because she’s figuring out what’s important, where she fits. Ruby seems like the kind of girl who appreciates family, history. If all she wanted was a quick buck, she would have signed those sale papers and flown back to Chicago already. It sounds to me like she’s trying to find out if Aspen Cove could be home. If it feels like a place she could put down roots.”

Doc’s words hit home. “So ... what do I do?” Becket ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. “Doc, I’ve got nothing to offer her. I’ve got a beat-up truck and some goats. Not a solid foundation to build a future on.”

Doc chuckled, the sound deep and rich like the bark of an old tree. “Let me tell you something about love, Becket. Ain’t no bank account big enough, no fancy car fast enough, no house grand enough that can hold a candle to the feeling of loving and being loved. Real love ... well, it doesn’t care if you’re driving a shiny new car or a rusted truck that needs a prayer to start each morning.”

Becket stayed silent, his eyes fixed on Doc, waiting for the lesson he knew was coming.

“I’ve seen men with million-dollar deals and big city dreams who still went to bed lonely every night,” Doc continued, his voice softening with a touch of nostalgia. “And I’ve seen others with nothing but a roof over their heads and a woman who’d stand by their side through thick and thin, and they lived richer lives than most folks could ever dream. You see, love isn’t about what you can put on paper, Becket. It’s about what you can put in someone’s heart.”

Becket swallowed, absorbing the words. “But what if she wants more than that?”

Doc leaned forward, tapping the table with his finger to make sure he had Becket’s full attention. “Then let her go after it. Let her figure out if all that glitters is gold. But if she’s stalling, if she’s hesitating on that offer for the house, then maybe—just maybe—she’s finding out that real gold’s right here in Aspen Cove. And you, my boy, might just be worth more than any sight-unseen offer she’s got.”

Becket’s lips twitched, and something stirred in his chest. “You make it sound simple.”

Doc grinned back, a twinkle in his eye. “Love is simple, son. It’s folks that make it complicated. So, let her make her choice, but in the meantime, show her that your beat-up truck and goats aren’t just things—they’re part of a life that she could love.”

Becket nodded, feeling the truth in the words. “I guess I’ve got some showing to do.”

Doc clapped him on the back. “That’s right. Now, let’s finish this game. And remember, it could still be your lucky day.”

When Becket returned home, he checked on Daisy again before heading into the house. She seemed comfortable, showing no signs of impending labor. He made a mental note to check on her again before they left for the tree lighting and cookie exchange.

He found Ruby in the kitchen, making a fresh pot of coffee.

“Hey,” he said, not wanting to startle her. “Ready for tonight?”

Ruby looked up. “As ready as we’ll ever be. Did you get the candies?”

Becket held up the bag triumphantly. “Mission accomplished. Now, let’s turn these cookies into little works of art.”

As they worked side by side, decorating the cookies, Becket couldn’t stop glancing at Ruby. The way she bit her lip in concentration as she piped icing, the small, pleased smile when a design turned out perfectly—he wanted to remember every detail.

As the day wore on, they turned their attention to the two goats they’d decided to bring to the tree lighting ceremony. Becket had chosen to leave Daisy at home due to her pregnancy, opting instead for the enthusiastic Sir Chomps-a-Lot and Houdini. As for Houdini, leaving him behind seemed riskier than bringing him along—who knew what trouble he might get into if left unsupervised?

Dressing them proved to be a challenge, with Houdini living up to his namesake.

“Come on, you little troublemaker,” Becket grunted, struggling to fasten a pair of felt antlers onto Houdini’s head. The goat bleated indignantly, twisting his neck to avoid the offending accessory. “It’s just for a few hours. You can handle it.”

Ruby watched. “You know,” she said, “I never thought I’d see the day when dressing up goats for a tree lighting would be a normal part of my life.”

Just as they were trying to figure out how to make the goats look more festive, there was a knock at the front door.

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