Page 10 of Marrying the Mountain Man

I tried to shrug off the ache. “I’m surviving. You’re up early.”

She exhaled lightly. “Busy day ahead. The twins’ second day of school, plus I want to check in on that Visitors Bureau lead, maybe email Beth again. The board meeting’s tomorrow.” She eyed me a moment. “You?”

“I’ll swing by Skyline for a couple hours, but I’m taking the afternoon off,” I replied, yawning. “Figured I’d help you if you need rides or errands. Plus, I want to get the kids to the lake after school…show them the ice before it thaws for spring.”

Mindy’s face lit with a small grin. “They’ll love that.” Then she glanced at the microwave clock. “We should probably wake them soon.”

I nodded, accepting the mug of coffee she handed me. “Thanks. I’ll do the honors.”

Despite the second-day nerves being lower, Connor and Cody still bickered about who got the bathroom first and which sweatshirt was less itchy. Mindy refereed calmly, while I slid a plate of toast onto the table along with butter and tub of cream cheese.

“I found a jar of raspberry jam if you want to jazz it up,” I said.

“Yesss,” Connor said, eyes lighting up. Cody shrugged in agreement. They each grabbed slices of toast and reached for the jam at the same time. I tried not to laugh—eight-year-old boys could treat anything with sugar like gold dust.

Mindy set glasses of OJ in front of them, then took a seat, sipping her own coffee. “You two ready for day two at school?”

Cody nodded, munching on his toast. “Yeah, I want to check out the library after school with Logan to see if I can find those comic books he was talking about.”

Connor smirked. “I just wish we didn’t have to memorize facts for a history quiz on Friday.”

I shot him a grin. “Memory work flexes your brain’s muscles,” I said with a wink.

He shrugged, trying to act cool, but I could see the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I guess.”

Mindy, meanwhile, gave me a thumbs up before popping the last bite of her toast into her mouth. I found myself staring at the crumbs on her soft lips thinking how good it might taste to kiss them off before hastily downing the remainder of my OJ.

Soon enough, it was time to head out. The kids bundled into their coats, and we piled into her SUV again. I followed in my pickup, same routine as yesterday. The roads were clearer this morning, no fresh snowfall, but the air was still crisp—definitely still March in the mountains.

At Hope Peak Elementary, Connor and Cody hopped out, exchanging quick “bye, Mom” and “see you later, Levi.” Mindy straightened their collars, offering them supportive smiles before they hurried inside.

Standing beside me, she exhaled. “Day two. Feels easier already.”

I nodded. “You want to meet for lunch again or do your own thing?”

She considered. “Actually, maybe I’ll just text you if I finish everything early. I want to rewrite my pitch for the board meeting tomorrow. I might hunker down at your kitchen table, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” I said, amused. “Make yourself at home.”

She offered a grateful little wave, heading back to the SUV. “Thanks for everything.”

I watched her drive away, an unfamiliar warmth lingering in my chest. Then I shook it off, climbing into my pickup and turning toward Skyline.

Around nine, I strode into my bar, the neon sign half-lit even in the daylight. Rachel was already behind the counter, checking stock. A couple of locals nursed coffees at the bar.

“Boss,” Rachel greeted, glancing up from her list. “Quiet morning so far. You going to stick around for lunch or cut out early again?”

I chuckled. “Depends on how the next couple hours go. Mindy’s working on some job pitch. I told her I’d be free if she needs anything.”

Rachel smirked, raising a pierced eyebrow. “Still playing house, huh?”

“Cut it out,” I grumbled, though my tone was more sheepish than angry. “They’re my guests for now.”

“Uh-huh.” She flipped her iPad around for me to see. “Anyway, no big orders due today, but we have new kegs arriving tomorrow. Just sign off here, and I’ll handle the rest.”

I scanned the iPad, double-checking the inventory. “Looks good. Thanks, Rachel.”

As she walked off to handle some side tasks, I tried to focus on actual bar work: verifying beer lines, restocking small wares. But my mind drifted to Mindy’s easy grin, the boys’ chatter about the upcoming carnival, the tension that used to linger in my house replaced by laughter. It wasn’t a bad feeling—just disorienting. Tessa’s “genius plan” was definitely not how I ever pictured finding a family under my roof, but yet here we were.

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