My Secret Santa Daddies (Silver Ridge Christmas)

2. Griffin

2

GRIFFIN

T he road to Silver Ridge winds through the mountains, blanketed by snow that seems to fall heavier with every mile. The cabin of the SUV is warm, but the chill from the past few years lingers in the silence. I glance in the rearview mirror at Jack, his small body bundled up in a puffy winter jacket, his wide eyes staring out the window, captivated by the snowstorm.

“Daddy, is that where we’re going?” Jack asks, his voice soft but filled with excitement. He points ahead toward the shadowy outline of the mountains that loom in the distance, barely visible through the snowfall.

“Yeah, buddy, we’re almost there.”

He smiles back at me, then goes back to gazing out the window. I know he’s excited about the trip. He’s never been to Silver Ridge, and this will be my first time back since Anna died. The lodge I bought is supposed to be a fresh start, a place where Jack can make new memories, somewhere that doesn’t remind me of everything I’ve lost.

But even as I drive, my stomach tightens with every mile. Silver Ridge isn’t just a place; it’s a part of my past I’ve avoided for years. A part of my life I’ve been trying to outrun.

In the passenger seat, Cody stirs, shifting his gaze from his phone to the road. “Looks like we’ll hit Silver Ridge right before dinner.”

“Yeah. Just in time.”

“You doing alright? Haven’t said much since we left the city.”

I shrug, keeping my eyes on the road. “Tired, I guess. I was hoping all the work stuff would die down since they all know I’m on vacation.”

“Hand me your phone. I’ll throw it out the window.”

Cody’s been one of my best friends since college, but even he doesn’t fully understand what it feels like to come back here. To this place and the memories I’ve been avoiding for years.

Part of me wants to turn around and forget this whole thing was ever a good idea. But I owe it to Jack, and I know that if I want to move on—if I ever want to find some semblance of peace—I'll have to face my demons head-on.

But first, we had to make it through the holidays...

Jack shifts in the backseat, humming softly to himself.

The kid’s been through enough already, he doesn’t need to know how much this trip is eating away at me.

“How’s Jack handling it?” Cody asks softly.

I glance in the rearview again. Jack is still staring out the window, lost in his own little world. “He’s excited. Thinks it’s some kind of holiday adventure.”

Cody nods. “That’s good.”

But I know it’s not just about Jack. It’s about me, too. About what I’m going to feel when we pull up to that lodge—when I see the town again. The people, and all the places that are tied to my past, and to Sierra, if she’s still here.

Silver Ridge was supposed to be home. The place where Anna and I were going to build our life, and raise our family. Now it’s just a reminder of what I couldn’t hold onto. And I know that coming back here means facing those memories—facing the people I had left behind.

“We’ll be there before you know it,” Cody says, as if reading my thoughts.

“Yeah, I know.”

The drive seems to drag on forever though, the miles ticking by too slowly. The closer we get to Silver Ridge, the more my chest tightens.

Finally, the Welcome to Silver Ridge sign looms ahead of us. It looks smaller than I remember, but then again, a lot of things do. The town is exactly as I had left it—quaint and picturesque, like something out of a holiday card.

Except, I’ve changed. A whole lot.

Snow blankets the streets, sidewalks shoveled clean by the hardy residents. Christmas lights twinkle from every storefront and damn light post, casting a warm glow against the darkening sky. It should look festive—inviting even—but all I see is a reminder of what could have been.

“We’re here,” Cody says, turning back to Jack, who stretches half-awake before pressing his face against the cold window.

“Wow, it’s like a snow globe!”

We pass by the diner and the general store, both look exactly the same as they did years ago. Memories assail me at every turn—stolen kisses with Sierra at the Winter Carnival, double-dating with Cody, some girl and Anna at the movies.

But our lives have changed so much since then.

“I need to go pee!” Jack announces.

“Just a few more minutes, bud.”

“How much longer?”

“I said a few more minutes!”

“Ahhhh,” he groans, collapsing into his booster seat.

I follow the directions Cody reads off his phone and soon enough, we’re pulling up the long driveway. For a moment, I just sit in the truck, staring at the dark shape of the building against the snow-covered backdrop. It’s bigger than I remember from when I came up here to finalize the purchase. The old structure stands like a ghost in the middle of the mountains, snow piled high on the slanted roof and the sagging porch.

Jack is already unbuckling his seatbelt, practically bouncing in his seat. “Can I go check it out, Dad?”

“Yeah, bud. Just stay close.”

He scrambles out of the truck, boots crunching in the snow as he races toward the porch. Cody steps out too, pulling bags from the back. For a second, I stay where I am, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white.

This is the first time I’ve been back to Silver Ridge since Anna died. I didn’t think it would feel this hard, but it feels like a weight pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I keep telling myself that this lodge, this place, is supposed to be a fresh start. A new beginning for Jack and me. I bought it because I wanted to give him something different, a place that wasn’t haunted by the memories of the life we lost.

But now, sitting here, staring at the lodge, I can’t help but feel the ghost of Anna everywhere. This was supposed to be our place. We had talked about it for years—moving back to Silver Ridge, buying the old lodge, building a life away from the city, where everything wasn’t so chaotic. It was supposed to be the next chapter of our lives. Then she was gone, and everything we had planned together disappeared with her.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I’ve spent the last few years trying to move forward, but the truth is, I’ve just been running. Running from the memories, from the pain. But no matter how far I go, it’s still there. In every quiet moment, in every look Jack gives me that reminds me of her. It’s always there.

Jack’s laughter breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. He’s running around the front of the lodge, his cheeks flushed red from the cold, his little boots kicking up snow as he explores the porch. His joy is infectious, and I can’t help but smile. He deserves this—a place where he can just be a kid, without the shadow of grief hanging over him.

“Jesus, why don’t you just pay some people to have this place fixed up?” Cody asks, taking in the sight of the monstrous building.

“I promised I’d do it.”

“Well, we got our work cut out for us.”

The front door swings open, and Wyatt steps out onto the porch, a smirk already forming on his face. He’s bundled up in a thick jacket, arms crossed over his chest, as he leans casually against the doorframe. He doesn’t waste any time.

“What the hell took you so long?” He glances at his watch. “You told me lunch and it’s practically dinner.”

“Work bullshit.”

“Don’t you make enough to stop and retire young?”

Cody throws his heavy bag over his shoulder. “If Griffin stops working, he’d actually have to live his life.”

“Harsh,” I wince.

Cody slams the truck door shut behind him, grumbling under his breath as he grabs another bag from the back. “Griffin also drives like an old man.”

“Figured you two would’ve hit a bar on the way or something.”

“The roads were shit,” I say, walking up toward the porch.

Wyatt chuckles, then his eyes meet mine, his expression more serious now. “Good to see you, man. It’s been too long.”

It has been. Too long since I’ve been back. Too long since I’ve seen Wyatt and Cody outside of rushed visits and quick phone calls.

Cody comes up behind me, and throws an arm around Wyatt’s shoulders. “Save the heart-to-heart for later. Right now, I need a drink, and we’ve got work to do. I don’t know why the hell Griffin thought this was going to be a relaxing holiday.”

Wyatt laughs, but there’s an edge of something deeper in his voice. “Don’t worry, the place is stocked. I’ve been holding down the fort. Got in last night.”

Jack, sensing the change in the air, comes running up to my side, tugging at my hand. “Dad, can we go inside? It’s cold out here.”

“Yeah, let’s get in.”

I hold out my free hand to Wyatt, who takes it in a firm grip. “It’s good to see you, man. It really has been too long.”

Wyatt grins. “The feeling’s mutual, brother.”

Jack races back up to me, grabbing my hand and tugging impatiently. “Come on, Dad! Let’s see our new home!”

I ruffle his hair. “Alright, alright.”

Together, the four of us trudge up the snow-covered steps and into the lodge, our footsteps echoing off the old floorboards as we go.

The place is huge—too big, really. It was an old lodge back in the day, built in the fifties, back when Silver Ridge was still on the map for vacationers and skiers. Now, it’s a relic, a forgotten structure tucked away in the mountains, and I can see why it sat on the market for so long. The walls are lined with dark, rough-hewn wood, cracked in places, and faded from years of neglect. The floor creaks with every step, and the corners are cluttered with old furniture, most of it covered in dust. The windows, large and bare, let in the faint, gray light of the storm outside, but I can already tell the insulation is shit—there’s a cold draft leaking in through the edges of the frames.

The stone fireplace takes up almost an entire wall in the main room, stretching up to the high ceiling.

The roof, though, is holding up. It was the first thing I had someone check when I bought the place. The last thing I need is to worry about leaks on top of everything else. The generator was next on the list and thank God I replaced the old one.

Everywhere I look, I see more work that needs to be done. The kitchen is barely functional with appliances from the early nineties—yellowing, outdated, and definitely not up to code. There’s a crack running along the ceiling in the hallway that leads to the back bedrooms.

Cody’s heavy hands slam down on my shoulder. “Holy shit, you weren’t exaggerating with the amount of work this place needs.”

Wyatt grins. “Told you it was a fixer upper.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting to renovate the damn Taj Mahal.”

I chuckle. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? Look at this place, man. It’s massive and crumbling. We’ll be lucky if we make it halfway livable by next year.”

“We have time,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “Besides, we’ve got each other. How hard can it be?”

Wyatt claps me on the back and grins. "You say that now, but just wait until you see the bathrooms."

"One thing at a time," I say with a groan. I glance at my watch. “If we hurry, the hardware store will still be open.”

“Dude, I'm starving,” Cody whines, dropping his duffel bag in the soon to be dining room.

“It won’t take long. We’ll get the essentials, come back, order dinner, and then we can assess the damage.”

He sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I expect a steakhouse and a six-pack of my choosing.”

“Deal.”

Wyatt stretches, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just agreed to a months-long renovation project. “I’ll drive. Might as well get this started before Cody starts chewing on the furniture.”

Cody grumbles, clearly not thrilled about the prospect of skipping a meal for a hardware run. But we all know it needs to be done—there’s no point sitting around in a crumbling lodge without the supplies to even make it through the night.

Wyatt’s truck rumbles to life as we pile in.

“Could’ve at least brought snacks,” Cody mutters under his breath.

“You’re a grown man, Cody. You can survive an hour without stuffing your face.”

Cody leans back, his arms crossed, clearly not amused. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one running on fumes.”

I glance over at Wyatt, shaking my head. “Just drive. The faster we get to the hardware store, the sooner we can order food.”

“So,” Wyatt starts, his voice is casual, but there’s something behind it—something that makes my gut tighten. “I forgot to mention earlier… I ran into Sierra.”

Cody glances up, catching Wyatt’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Wait, Sierra? Like, our Sierra? I didn’t know she was still living in Silver Ridge?”

“Yeah, she’s still here. I found her car stuck in the snowbank earlier, last night during that storm. Pulled her out and drove her home.”

A sharp tension curls in my chest, but I don’t say anything, and focus on tightening the strap on the bag in my hand. Sierra. Of all people.

“She looked good, man,” Wyatt adds, his tone light, but there’s something else there. “Really good. I mean, she was always hot back in college, but now? There’s just something about her…

I clench my jaw, forcing myself to keep my hands steady. Cody, oblivious as always, raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Yeah, I remember her. Wild as hell at those parties we used to throw.”

“Yeah, well, seeing her today was something. She’s still got that attitude—acted like she didn’t need help even though her car was halfway buried in snow. But damn, she’s?—”

“That’s enough, Wyatt,” I say, my voice coming out sharper than I had intended.

They both pause, Cody shoots me a curious glance, but Wyatt’s the one who catches the shift first. His grin fades, his eyes narrow as he watches me carefully.

“Right. Forgot you two had a thing.”

Cody sighs, “Man, that was forever ago, though.”

I don’t respond, but the weight of their stares is impossible to ignore.

Sierra’s name is enough to send everything spinning. It’s been years—four, to be exact—since I last saw her. The memories hit me harder than expected, a tangled mess of guilt and something else I’m not ready to name.

Back in college, before Anna, it was Sierra. We were young, stupid, and everything felt like it was on fire. It was short lived and burned up fast. Then Anna came into my life, and things changed. Or at least I thought they had. But Anna and Sierra stayed close.

And now, knowing she’s still here… It twists something inside me.

Eventually, the lights of the hardware store come into view.

“Looks like we made it just in time,” Wyatt says, pulling the truck into the lot.

Cody’s already unbuckling, and halfway out the door before the truck even stops. “About time. Let’s grab what we need and get the hell out of here.”

Wyatt chuckles, turning off the engine and glancing over at me. “You know what we need?”

“Basics first,” I say, mentally running through the list in my head. “Some tools, flashlights, extra batteries, maybe some weatherstripping for the windows. We’ll get a proper list together once we have a better look at everything.”

Wyatt nods, climbing out of the truck as Cody strides ahead, eager to get in and out. I follow behind with Jack who keeps yawning. Poor kids, it’s been a long day for him. “We’ll be quick buddy.” I promise him. He nods and starts looking around.

The place hasn’t changed much since I was last here, the aisles are stocked with tools, supplies, and everything else you’d need to survive a winter in the mountains. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone, and everything seems unchanged. Almost frozen in time.

Sure enough, Hank Garrison is standing behind the counter, his usual flannel shirt tucked under a heavy vest, looking exactly the same as he did when we were kids. The bell above the door jingles as we walk in, and Hank’s eyes widen when he sees us. His grin stretches wide, pulling at the wrinkles on his face as he walks out from behind the counter.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, his voice carrying that warm, gravelly tone I remember clearly from all those years ago. “It’s the ghosts of Christmas past. They’ve come to haunt me!” He chuckles, making his way over with open arms.

Cody, ever the charmer, steps forward first, grabbing Hank’s outstretched hand with a hearty shake. “Good to see you, Hank. Thought you might’ve retired by now.”

“Retire? In this town? Hell no, son. If I stopped working, the whole place would fall apart.” He turns his sharp eyes on me, giving me a once over. “And look who’s here, Griffin Winters, back in Silver Ridge. Thought we lost you to the big city for good.”

I give a small smile, taking Hank’s hand in mine. “Not quite. Just needed some time away.” I feel Jack plastered against the back of my leg, hiding.

“And who’s this fine gentleman? Is that your guy, Griffin?”

“Sure is. This is Jack.”

“Welcome, Jack! It’s good to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Jack whispers, peering out with a more inquisitive look.

“Well, it’s damn good to see you three back. Been too long. Heard you bought the old lodge up on the mountain. Quite the project,” Hank says, leaning against the shop counter.

“Yeah, that’s what they keep telling me,” I say, glancing at Cody with a smirk. “But we’ll get it in shape eventually.”

“Good luck with that. That place needs more than a little elbow grease.”

Wyatt joins the conversation, stepping up next to me. “That’s why we’re here. Gonna stock up on what we need before the snow really hits.”

Hank rubs his chin, his grin shifting into something a little more thoughtful. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’ve got everything you’ll need for a long winter in that lodge—tools, insulation, chainsaws if you’re cutting wood. You name it.”

Cody leans against the counter, scanning the shelves. “We’ll take the works. Anything to keep us from freezing to death up there.”

Hank chuckles again, giving Cody a friendly slap on the back. “Freezing’s no fun. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

As Hank heads back behind the counter to start gathering the essentials, I take a moment to glance around the store. It’s strange being back, like stepping into a time warp. Nothing’s changed, yet everything feels different.

We split up, grabbing what we need. Cody’s still grumbling about dinner, Wyatt’s making small talk with Hank, as I start filling up the cart. I’d had some furniture sent up in the fall and set up before our vacation. I look over the sledgehammers when I hear Hank ask, “Is he doing okay, after losing Anna?”

“Yeah. He’s alright,” Wyatt responds.

“It’s a shame what happened out there.”

I round the corner into their view, giving them both a smile. “I think we’re all set.”

“Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me. The store’s open till eight most nights.”

“Thanks, Mr. Garrison,” Wyatt says, handing him cash. Cody starts snacking on a Slim Jim he grabbed off the counter.

Hank gives us one last genuine smile when we walk out the door. “You boys stay out of trouble now, alright?”

“That’s hard for us to do, Hank. You know that” I shout over my shoulder with Jack towing close behind. Cody’s given him the other half of the Slim Jim, and it’s hanging out of his mouth, looking like a skinny cigar.

“You know, you really need to work on your poker face, Griffin,” Wyatt mutters as we leave the store, the bell tinkling behind us.

I put the bag of supplies into the truck before slamming the tailgate shut. “It’s none of his business.”

Wyatt sighs, running a hand over his head. “I know. I know. But?—”

“What?” I ask, watching as Cody pulls up dinner options on his cell phone.

“Nothing. Just…People are going to want to know if you are doing okay. This used to be your home, Griff, and they’re trying to be kind.” He pauses, glancing back at the store before meeting my gaze.

“It’s not their damn business though. Just bored, old people with nothing to do but gossip.”

Cody shakes his head.

“No, you’re wrong, Griffin. Silver Ridge has a way of dredging up the past.”

I roll my eyes. “The only thing I’m concerned about right now is getting that generator working and putting some food in my stomach. All we need to worry about is the present, and right now, that’s getting this place in order. They can talk all they want.”