Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

RUBY

R uby gazed out the window of her car as she wound her way along the narrow road, her eyes tracing the contours of the Colorado Rockies rising sharply above her. The landscape around Silver Falls was breathtaking, almost surreal in its beauty. There, at the heart of it all, lay the town itself—quaint, isolated, and nestled at the base of the mountains, as if protected by their towering presence.

Its namesake waterfall cascaded down from a craggy ledge high above, its icy water crashing into the river that bordered the town. Even from this distance, she could feel the power of the falls, the mist rising like a phantom from the churning waters and giving the whole scene a dreamlike quality. The river wound past the town, its banks lined with wildflowers and dense clusters of trees, a dark green contrast to the golden meadows that rolled out toward the foothills.

Ruby drove slowly into town, feeling as though she’d entered another world. The town’s main street was lined with charming, old-fashioned buildings—a cozy bookstore, a small hardware store, a five-and-dime, a coffee shop, and an antique store, among other small-town staples. As Ruby made her way through town, she caught a few curious glances from the locals, who seemed aware she was an outsider. The town’s beauty was undeniable, but beneath its allure, she sensed a layer of secrets woven into the mist and shadows. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of this place and bracing herself for whatever awaited her.

The tires of Ruby's Jeep crunched against the gravel as she navigated the final bend that revealed her inheritance, a three-story lodge standing proud yet forlorn amidst the towering pines of Silver Falls surrounded by mountains. A frisson of unease traveled up her spine as she parked at the edge of the wild, overgrown driveway. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, her heart beating like the wings of a caged bird eager for release, she stepped out.

Her boots crunched on the gravel as her eyes roamed over the dilapidated facade of Aunt Lorraine's home. What have I gotten myself into? The memories from her childhood visits had been dashed when the lawyer had handed her current photos of the place. She remembered it as a wonderful, magical place—the sight of it in disrepair had been disheartening.

Standing in front of it now, she could envision what it might be. Despite the peeling paint and windows shuttered with secrets, Ruby's mind painted it anew, teeming with life and laughter as a bed and breakfast. Silver Falls was remote, but she could easily see turning the place into a destination for the outdoorsy set, as well as for corporate or writers’ retreats.

"Looks like you and I have some work to do," Ruby murmured to the house with a small smile. As if responding to her determination, a breeze seemed to whisper through the trees, carrying with it the scent of evergreens and untold possibilities.

With her resolve bolstered, she approached the wraparound porch, her footsteps echoing on the old wood with a sense of homecoming. Without warning, her right foot plunged through a rotten board, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. "Okay, add 'fix porch' to the list," she said wryly, extricating herself with a grace that belied her surprise.

The door groaned on its hinges as she unlocked and pushed it open, revealing an immense sitting room bathed in dusty sunlight that seemed to dance around the room, hinting at the beauty beneath the years of neglect. On the opposite side, a massive dining room stretched out, bringing to mind images of hearty breakfasts, grand feasts, and intimate dinners. The staircase to her left promised exploration and secrets nestled in the upper floors, while the hallway beckoned her toward the heart of any home—the kitchen.

"Potential," Ruby declared, her voice bouncing off the high ceilings. She felt the burden of her past beginning to lift slightly, replaced by the budding thrill of what lay ahead. She could do this, she thought, turning around to examine each room on the ground floor. She could make a go of this place and never have to deal with handsy bosses again. Each step she took fueled the ideas that bounced around her brain like a pinball machine. From the time she’d left the diner, she’d seen the lodge taking shape in her head.

Returning to her Jeep, Ruby hauled her belongings inside, her arms laden but her steps light, each trip across the threshold an act of claiming. Here, amid the echoes of the lodge's past and the shadows of the setting sun, Ruby Edwards would carve out a future, one where the walls would learn her hard work and laughter, and the floors would come to know her stride.

As the sun slowly began to sink below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape, the lodge took on a foreboding presence. Its isolation was now even more pronounced, surrounded by dense forest and with no other signs of life in sight. The creaking of branches and rustling of leaves added to the eerie atmosphere, making it seem like the lodge was alive with secrets and stories waiting to be uncovered. As the sun completed its descent, the structure stood as a solitary shape against the backdrop of the night sky, its windows dark and mysterious.

She shook her head, reminding herself there was something to be said for her companion in solitude. The lodge’s imperfections were merely facets of its character—much like Ruby herself. She and the house were both survivors. Their worst days were behind them, and a new and better future danced in front of them.

The evening had fully draped itself over the lodge like a brooding, velvet cloak, and Ruby, with a steaming cup of tea cradled between her hands, stepped onto the porch to savor the solitude of her new domain. Silver Falls had sunk beneath twilight shadows, and an ethereal fog began to unfurl from the dense woods surrounding her inheritance. She inhaled deeply, feeling the crisp mountain air swirl into her lungs, mingling with the scent of pine and the unknown.

As she sipped the soothing liquid, a movement at the fringes of her vision caught her attention—a tall, hooded figure stood motionless at the edge of her property. Ruby's heart stuttered in her chest; the stranger was merely an outline against the encroaching mist, but his silent vigil spoke volumes. He seemed to be observing her, a specter born from the whispers of the town, and the sharp bite of vulnerability gnawed at her.

"Can I help you?" Her voice cut through the stillness, more confident than she felt. The question hung unanswered in the air, a challenge tossed into the void. As quickly as he appeared, the figure dissolved into the fog, leaving only ambiguity and a deep-seated unease in its wake.

Ruby's spine stiffened, her fiery spirit igniting with indignation. No shadowy onlooker would intimidate her. With a determined swivel, she retreated indoors, her grip on the empty mug white-knuckled. The door closed behind her with a definitive thud, and she locked it securely, sealing away the outside world.

Inside, the lodge creaked and groaned, an audible testament to the years it had weathered. Ruby moved about the kitchen, securing windows and doors with methodical precision. As she locked the door between the kitchen and the rest of the lodge, she noticed the carvings in the top of the door frame. Tracing her fingers over them she remembered asking her aunt about them and being told she would understand some day.

As Ruby passed by a window, the thickening mist outside drew her gaze. It clung to the glass like a living entity, obscuring the view, creating a barrier between her and the lurking secrets of Silver Falls.

Catching sight of a fleeting shadow through the haze, Ruby stilled. Once, twice, her breath was held hostage by the eerie feelings of doubt and fear. It was then that her eyes landed on the shotgun and ammunition tucked away in the corner—remnants of her aunt's life that suddenly felt like a lifeline.

She exhaled, steadying her nerves and approached the firearm, picking it and the box of ammo up, finding the weight of its presence both comforting and ominous as she carried it around with her.

As she walked, her attention was caught by carvings above the door frames. The symbols carved were odd, otherworldly, almost, and she had the sudden fanciful idea that they weren’t simply carved decoration, but engravings imbued with some kind of mystical meaning or perhaps a clue of some sort to a mystery that would unfold. Ruby shook her head and snorted. This place was already starting to get to her. Could her aunt have felt the same? Had her aunt or uncle carved them? Her mother had hinted more than once that her aunt had held some beliefs that were a bit different than most.

"Looks like there's more to you than meets the eye," she murmured to the walls around her, their silence holding more answers than she was ready to hear. Yet, within Ruby, the embers of resolve smoldered, and she knew, despite her trepidation, she would figure out the lodge and her aunt’s mysteries and build a new life for herself.

Her aunt had left behind a legacy shrouded in enigma, and Ruby, with her unwavering sense of forging her own path, meant to peel back the layers, one truth at a time. For now, though, she fortified her sanctuary against the night, against the watchers in the mist, her mind racing with the possibilities that lay hidden within the folds of Silver Falls.

Deciding it might be best to confine herself to just the kitchen and the adjacent bedroom and bath, Ruby tried to settle down for the night. Instead, she tossed and turned, her once heavy eyelids now flickering restlessly against the haunting array of sounds that infiltrated the stillness of the room. A whisper slithered through the cracked window, snaking under the covers and curling around her ear, its breathy echoes twining with the wind's mournful howl. Her pulse quickened, each beat a drum signaling the approach of something unseen.

With a jolt, she sat upright, the darkness of the room pressing in on her like a tangible force. Fumbling for the lamp, she clicked it on, banishing shadows to the corners where they gathered like silent conspirators. She couldn't shake the sensation of being watched, of eyes peering through the glass, hungry for the vulnerability of her isolation.

Gathering courage, Ruby slid from the warmth of her bed, her feet finding the cool wooden floor as she reached for the shotgun at her bedside. Its solid weight in her hands was a silent vow of protection. She bundled her pillows and blanket under one arm, while cradling the shotgun in the other. Tucking her cell phone—for which there was no signal—into her sweatpants, she pulled back the opening lever on the gun, the chill metal of the double triggers cold against her finger.

The hallway stretched before her, a gauntlet of moonlight and dark shapes thrown by antique furniture. Her heart thrummed a steady rhythm as she made her way to the full bath with its large clawfoot soaker tub, every creak of the floorboards a staccato note in the symphony of fear. Once inside, she locked the door behind her with a definitive click, the small space suddenly a fortress in a world grown frightening and unpredictable.

Ruby arranged her pillows and blankets in the large tub, making an adequate makeshift bed. She slipped into the tub, easing the opening levers forward but leaving the safety off, propping the shotgun between the tub and the wall where it would be safe from an accidental discharge but where it could be easily reached. With the shotgun close, she found the smell of oil and aged wood a strange comfort. Her mind spun with the day's events—the hooded figure, the whispers, the weird carvings—and what seemed to be fragments of information teased at her consciousness, daring her to put them together.

As sleep finally claimed her, it was a fitful mistress, tossing her into a sea of dreams where mist swirled and coalesced into shadowy forms. Her dreams whispered of secrets, of powers shifting beneath the surface of Silver Falls, their voices a siren song of the unknown. Ruby's subconscious sailed those murky waters, her spirit undaunted even in slumber, seeking the truth that danced just beyond reach in the fog-shrouded night.

The following day, laughing at her fear from the night before, Ruby drove her Jeep trundling down the main street of Silver Falls, the engine's purr a contrast to the stillness that seemed to drape over the small town. The storefronts were quaint, an echo of a bygone era, and the mountainous backdrop with the rushing water of the falls for which it was named lent the scene an air of a bygone nobility. As Ruby parked and stepped out onto the sidewalk, she realized Silver Falls wasn’t fancy, but it was a bit like stepping back in time.

She could feel the scrutiny of watchful eyes like an itch between her shoulder blades, the sidelong glances from passersby feeling as tangible as a physical touch. As she walked, murmurings hushed into silence at her approach, only to resume once she'd passed. Curiosity prickled at her senses, but so did isolation—the palpable sense of being an outsider in a tight-knit community. Perhaps they didn’t want the business a place like her bed and breakfast could bring, but no matter; she would do whatever it took to ensure the success of her business, and to hell with the town.

"New blood," she heard someone whisper, their tone not unkind but laced with a caution that made Ruby's spine stiffen.

Her heart kept a steady rhythm, defiant against the unease that tried to creep in. She held her head high, her gait determined as she made necessary stops—grocery, hardware store, the local diner for a bite. The food was wholesome, but nothing to write home about. She tasted dried herbs instead of fresh, and there seemed to be more of an emphasis on large portions rather than nuanced flavors. Each interaction she had was cordial, yet beneath the surface lay a tension Ruby couldn't quite name.

Back at the lodge, its size loomed less intimidating than before, and more like a challenge she was eager to accept. Rolling up her sleeves, she attacked the grime and clutter with gusto, moving methodically through the kitchen. Her movements were like a checklist, each part of the rooms cleaned—floors, remaining furniture, windows and the like—a step towards claiming this space as her own.

As she worked, she examined more closely the carvings etched in the top of the door frames. They were intricate, symbols that spoke of an ancient language that didn’t use words. Ruby traced the grooves with a curious fingertip, pondering their purpose. Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, speaking of estrangement born from her aunt’s "unusual" beliefs.

Were the symbols a riddle? Pieces of a puzzle that linked her aunt to whatever secrets the lodge and Silver Falls held? In them, Ruby felt the pulse of the unknown.

"Guess we've all got our little mysteries, huh?" she said to the empty room, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

After hours of cleaning, Ruby had made the kitchen and bedroom with its full bath functional and comfortable, she glanced around, comforted by the progress she'd made. Yet the carvings remained, guardians of the threshold, and as she lay back on the cleaned bed, the shadows of the night seemed to whisper of things to come, of histories entangled with her own.

In the quiet, she felt a connection to Aunt Lorraine, a kinship despite the years of separation. There was a mystery here, wrapped in the fabric of the home she had left behind. Ruby meant to uncover the truth, whatever that might be, brick by brick and symbol by symbol. For now, she allowed herself a moment of rest, her dreams a canvas for the painted whispers of Silver Falls.