Page 4 of How to Wed a Mountain Man

“Oh. Thank you.” She accepts it with uncertain hands. When she breathes in the steam, her nose wrinkles before she can catch herself.

“My stomach is still a little unsettled,” she says, moving to set the mug aside.

“The tea will help,” I say, and list off its ingredients.

She studies the mug for a long moment, then raises it to her lips and takes the smallest possible sip.

I lower myself into the chair beside the bed, wincing at my stiff joints. The silence stretches between us until I clear my throat. Yesterday was a disaster, but I need this arrangement to work. The loneliness has gotten too deep.

“About what I said yesterday.” My voice comes out gravelly. I’ve already spoken more in the last twenty-four hours than I have in months. “About not touching my things. Forget I said that.”

She watches me over the rim of her mug, waiting.

“It was nice of you to clean. Place needed it.” I drum my fingers against my knee. “Not that you have to. I don’t expect—” I cut myself off. Start again. “I usually spend most of the day in my shop. Sometimes I don’t eat until late. But we can work out whatever schedule suits you better.”

“Don’t change your routine for me.” Paige sets the mug aside. “I’m a three-meals-a-day kind of person, but I don’t mind eating alone. Would it be okay if I did some of the cooking?”

“Fine by me.”

Her shoulders relax.

“You should keep a list,” I tell her. “For things you need. I only go into Fairhope every few months, so we can stock up then.”

Her eyebrows lift. “I didn’t think Fairhope was that far of a drive?”

“It’s not about the distance.”

“Right.” She studies me, a hint of challenge in her gaze. “Are you saying you don’t want me going into town on my own?”

The question catches me off guard. “What? No, that’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just checking. The way you phrased it made me wonder.”

And there I go, fumbling things again. “I only meant that’s how often I like to make the trip. If you want to go more than that, you can go whenever you want.”

She gives a satisfied nod. “What else should I know about living up here?”

I straighten. This, at least, I know how to handle. “If you see a bear, don’t run. And if you see a cub—” I stop. She’s pressing her lips together, fighting a smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Please, tell me more about how I shouldn’t try to pet the cute baby bears.”

The back of my neck goes hot. Of course she knows basic mountain safety. She’s not some helpless girl who needs me to explain every damn thing.

But that smile of hers also does something dangerous to my insides. For a split second, I can actually picture this working out. I can see the two of us together. Happy.

That glimpse of a good marriage reminds me of something we need to settle. “Yesterday, when you mentioned having kids…” I pause and clear my throat. “I want to be upfront with you. I’m not so sure that’s for me.”

Her smile fades. “Are you saying you definitely don’t want any?”

The question deserves more thought than I’ve ever given it. Living alone, I never had reason to consider it beyond that first gut reaction. Even now, trying to imagine children in my quiet world feels wrong, but something stops me from making it final.

“I don’t think it’s for me,” I say carefully. “But I guess it’s not a hard no, either. Is that a problem?”

She takes a long breath. “I’m not sure yet. I need more time to think about it.”

Fair enough. I push to my feet. “Okay. We’ll talk about it again later, then. I have work to do in my shop.”

“I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay?” She gestures toward the bathroom door on the other side of the bedroom.

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