“Then it’s time to stop waiting for him to notice you,” Mariah said. “Makehim notice.”
“Or just tell him,” Maggie offered. “Sometimes the direct approach works.”
They all turned to look at her.
“Says the woman who communicated with her man through letters for six years,” Nessie pointed out, “and never told him she was a celebrity.”
“Celebrity is a stretch, but fair,” Maggie conceded with a laugh. “Don’t listen to me. I’m hopeless with men.”
“The whole wearing-nothing-but-a-smile thing works,” Naomi confirmed. “Trust me.”
“Ew.” Mariah shuddered. “I don’t want to think of Ghost naked or smiling. That’s like nightmare fuel.”
Naomi threw a pillow at her. “He has a nice smile.” She grinned. “And a nicer coc?—”
“Oh my God,” Lila interrupted, cheeks flaming as she buried her face in a pillow. “You all are terrible influences!”
fourteen
The wine buzzed warm through Maggie’s veins as she picked her way along the path to her cabin, the women’s laughter still echoing in her ears. For the first time in months, she felt something like safety—like belonging—wrapped around her shoulders tighter than River’s borrowed jacket. These women carried wounds as deep as her own, yet they’d made room for her without question. Maybe that’s what drew broken people to Valor Ridge. The chance to be broken together, instead of alone.
A flash of movement caught her eye—a silver-gray shape loping along the creek bank, followed by a broader figure in a dark flannel. Anson and Bramble, silhouetted against the deepening purple of dusk. Her feet veered toward them before her brain fully registered the decision.
“Anson?” she called, then winced at how her voice carried across the quiet ranch. Too loud. Too eager. The wine made her braver than she should be.
He turned and stiffened when he spotted her. Even from this distance, she read the instant battle in his stance—stay or flee. But then Bramble bounded toward her, making the decision for him.
“Hey, sweet boy.” She ruffled the wolfhound’s fur as he pressed his massive head against her chest. “Aren’t you cold in that water?”
Anson approached more slowly, hands shoved in his pockets. “He doesn’t feel it. Too much fur.”
“Must be nice.” She stood, pulling her flannel tighter over River’s hoodie. November nights here bit deeper than any she’d known in Florida.
“You cold?” He frowned, looking her over. “Should be inside.”
“Just came from Nessie’s. Girls’ night.” She smiled, warmed by the memory as much as the lingering alcohol. “They’re wonderful. All of them.”
Anson nodded, gaze shifting to the creek. “They are.”
The silence stretched between them, not entirely uncomfortable. Or maybe that was just the alcohol numbing her senses, because Anson looked more than uncomfortable. He looked like he was trying to find an excuse to flee.
Bramble nudged at her hand, then trotted back toward the water, looking over his shoulder expectantly.
“I was...” Anson cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. “Walking. To my spot. The one I wrote about. Creek bends through some rocks up ahead. Good place to... think.”
She waited, sensing there was more.
“Want to see it?” The words came out in a rush, like he needed to get them out before he changed his mind. “Before snow comes. Changes everything.”
Her heart sped up. An invitation into his private space—the first he’d extended beyond the forge, beyond the kittens. “Yes. I’d love to.”
They fell into step together, following the creek as it wound away from the ranch buildings. Bramble splashed ahead, pausing occasionally to look back, making sure they were stillfollowing. The water caught the moonlight, turning to silver where it rushed over stones.
“Been coming here since I arrived,” Anson said after several minutes of silence. “First week, when everything was...” He made a gesture near his head, like static. “Too much. Too loud. Found this place.”
“Is that why you stayed? At Valor Ridge?”
He nodded, picking his way carefully over the uneven ground. “Partly. Walker gave me space. Work that made sense. But this—” He gestured toward the bend in the creek ahead. “This gave me room to breathe.”
