Page 13 of Marrying the Mountain Man

Mindy disappeared to tuck the boys in, while I tidied the remains of dinner, humming to myself. When she returned, she cast me a thoughtful glance.

“They said to tell you thanks again for the lake trip,” she relayed softly. “And that they’re excited for more mountain adventures. So, you’re basically stuck with us.”

My chest tightened in a pleasant way. “Happy to be stuck.”

Her cheeks tinted pink, but she gave a small smile. “Good night, Levi.”

“Night, Mindy.” I stood there for a beat as she slipped down the hallway, once again taking refuge in my bedroom. Or hers, for now. The couch loomed behind me, a nightly reminder of this makeshift arrangement. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.

Flipping off the kitchen light, I settled onto the couch, pulling a spare quilt over me. The day replayed in my mind—a swirl of kids’ laughter, Mindy’s shy smiles, the easy routine of making dinner together. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if Tessa had known exactly what she was doing by orchestrating this fiasco. Then I shook my head, smirking. My sister had definitely gone too far, but maybe it was paying off in ways I’d never have expected.

With a final, content sigh, I closed my eyes, letting the quiet house lull me to sleep. Tomorrow was another day in this new and unexpected life, and I couldn’t deny the growing excitement within me to see where it led.

Chapter Five

MINDY

I woke up with a start, my heart beating faster than usual. It was Wednesday, which meant the board meeting at the Visitors Bureau. My big pitch day.

The house was quiet, so I slid out of bed, careful not to make too much noise. After our ice-skating adventure yesterday, I wasn’t surprised that the boys were still sleeping. If I hadn’t been anticipating my presentation, I was sure I’d still be fast asleep too. Now, with only a bit of early sunlight filtering through the thin curtains, I tugged on a sweatshirt and padded into the hallway.

Levi, as usual, was awake before me,

sipping coffee in the kitchen. He glanced up, eyes warm. “Morning. Big day today, right?”

I nodded, nerves fluttering in my stomach. “Board meeting. Three o’clock. I barely slept, thinking about what to say.”

He offered a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great. You’ve already got Beth excited about your ideas.”

I grabbed a mug and poured coffee, trying to steady my pulse. “Yeah, I just… it’s a big deal, you know? Actually pitching a plan that could lead to me staying here long term.” My voice caught slightly on the last words. Staying here. I’d only been in Hope Peak a few days, but the idea of taking on responsibility that would force me to set down roots suddenly stirred a whirl of both longing and wariness inside me.

Levi must’ve noticed my hesitation. “You can always take things slow,” he said quietly. “Even if they love your ideas, you could do a short contract first, feel it out.”

I breathed a small sigh of relief. “Right. That’s probably wise. I’m just not used to…” I almost said depending on anyone but stopped. “Used to small-town pace, I guess.”

He nodded, letting me change the subject. “Anyway, we better wake the kids soon if we’re doing breakfast. Or do you want them to finish that frog cereal?”

A smile tugged at my lips. “They’ll demand pancakes every morning if we’re not careful. But yeah, let’s feed them cereal. It’s easier on everyone’s schedule.”

By the time we got the twins off to their third day of school, my stomach felt like it was in knots. After dropping them off, I returned to Levi’s house—my house, for now—to finalize my pitch slides and notes. The board meeting was at 3:00 pm, meaning I had a few hours to refine my bullet points andrehearse. Beth hadn’t said how many board members there’d be, but I expected at least a handful.

Halfway through the morning, I caught myself daydreaming about how life here already felt normal. A routine with Levi, the boys enrolled in school, me huddled over a laptop drafting marketing ideas. Could I actually see myself living in Hope Peak long term—where a broad-shouldered, soft-spoken bar owner was steadily becoming someone I trusted?

That question sent a ripple of warmth quickly followed by one of fear through my chest.Don’t get attached, part of me warned. People have disappointed me before. Even my own divorced parents had been too busy with their second families to pay me much attention when I was growing up, let alone after the twins were born when they already had a slew of grandkids on both sides. I was used to forging ahead by myself. But it seemed every time I’d let myself hope for more, it ended in hurt. Was I about to repeat that pattern?

I shook off the thought, focusing on my slides: “Springtime in Hope Peak—Attracting Visitors for the Carnival and Beyond!” I typed in bold. Then I added bullet points about cross-promotion with local businesses (Skyline included, as well as possibly Tessa’s bookstore, the Velvet Book). I also drafted a plan for social media engagement and a new brochure design to highlight the small-town charm. By noon, I had a neat stack of printouts and a colorful PowerPoint presentation ready.

At 2:45, I parked near the Visitors Bureau, double-checking that I’d locked my SUV. Nerves fluttered as I clutched my file folder. The small, wooden building stood quietly under the overcast March sky, its green sign reading Hope Peak Visitors Bureau. Inside, Beth greeted me with an encouraging grin.

“Mindy! Right on time,” she said, adjusting her eyeglasses. “Come on in. The board members are already seated around the conference table.”

Conference table was a generous term—it was basically a long wooden table in a back room lined with folding chairs. But I’d take it. A handful of faces turned to me as Beth introduced them: Jerry Albertson, an older man with a kindly expression and a local lodge owner; Denise Ward, a retired teacher who volunteered for community events; Marcus Gonzalez, a middle-aged real estate agent; and, Alissa Hughes, a young entrepreneur who ran a crafts store in town.

I offered polite smiles and fielded a few cordial questions before Beth gestured for me to begin. My heart hammered, but I drew a breath and launched into my presentation.

“Spring is around the corner, which means we have a small window to market Hope Peak as a family-friendly destination,” I said. “I propose that we update the website and online materials, highlighting the carnival next month as well as local hikes and destination spots for sightseeing. We can create specific pages for dining and lodging options and feature a section for family-owned businesses.”

I clicked through the slides on my laptop, describing how to improve the site’s navigability and unify the brand identity with consistent fonts, fresh photography, regular social media posts. I even threw in Levi’s Skyline as an example: “local bar-restaurant synergy sure to appeal to hungry visitors following a day of adventure in the mountains.” The board members nodded thoughtfully. Jerry jotted notes, Marcus’s eyes were keen. Beth beamed in the corner, catching my eye and giving me the thumbs-up sign.

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