I stand and take both bowls to the sink. I need distance.
She calls after me, “So, what do I call you? Mountain Man? Captain Snowmobile?”
I pause, thinking which name to give her.
“Beckett Schmidt,” I say, rinsing the bowls. “Most folks just say Beck. But on the internet, I’m known as Beckett Tinderwolf. That’s my stage name.”
“Tinderwolf?” she laughs. “Yeah, anyone would know that’s not a real name.”
“Makes good branding for the business.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what do you do on the internet?”
“Mountain survivalist channel - growing toward 200,000 followers right now. I’m also the snowmobile repairman for this area."
I glance over my shoulder. “What about you?”
“Ruby Garland.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s not a real name either.”
She gasps, mock-offended. “Itistoo. My mom was consumed with the Wizard of Oz. She said I was born to sparkle.”
I look at her. Hair mussed, wearing a Santa jacket, surrounded by mystery boxes of a sensual nature. Maybe her mom was right, just off a little. Or maybe Miss Ruby Garland is fibbing to me.
She catches my look and softens a little. “Actually, I’ve only had my store open for a little over a year. Christmas season last year carried me beyond Valentine’s day in sales. Now, I’m worried. I’m just a business owner with very tight margins.”
Tight margins? Damn!My brain immediately goes places it shouldn’t.
“All I can do, Ruby, is keep you from freezing for now. Once those plows come through and the roads reopen, I’ve got a truck I can haul you into town with.”
When she finally settles back on the couch, she pulls her knees up, resting her chin there. The firelight paints her skin in gold.
“I really appreciate your help, Beck,” she says sincerely.
“You’re welcome.”
“How do you get used to the isolation here. Do you like it quiet?”
“Mostly.”
She nods like she understands. “Then I’ll try not to ruin it.”
Too late. She already has. I throw another log on the fire, watching sparks spin upward. This cabin does feel lonely at times. But I won’t admit that to her. That’s why I have my channel—and Ranger. That’s enough. At least, I try to convince myself of that.
But Ruby is feminine noises, color and movement -- everything I swore I didn’t need. Somehow, the silence has never sounded better than it does with her sitting in the middle of it. And then there’s my dog. Ranger snoozes at her feet like he’s already chosen sides. Traitor!
Chapter 5
Ruby
Beckett offers his bed like it’s the most obvious solution in the world.
“You take my room,” he says, already moving toward the hall.
I plant my feet. “Absolutely not. I’m not evicting a man from his own bed on night one. That’s like against a universal code.”
His eyebrow lifts. “There’s a couch in my office that pulls out.”
