Page 5 of Stranded with the Mountain Man

"Thank you." I try to sound professional, but my voice comes out softer than intended. "I appreciate you letting me stay. I'm sure this isn't how you planned to spend your evening."

He glances up at me, firelight now dancing across his features. "I've had worse company during storms."

Is that almost a compliment? Before I can decide, my phone chimes with a notification, reminding me of reality.

"Your Wi-Fi password?" I ask, already opening my email app.

"Password1234," he replies, not joking, standing up as the fire catches. "But the satellite connection gets spotty in heavy snow."

I nod distractedly, already composing damage control emails to Victoria Harrington. I need to send the venue photos before the connection fails completely. Then I need to rearrange my flight, reschedule tomorrow's meetings, and somehow salvage this disaster.

For the next hour, I pace the cabin's main room, making calls that keep dropping and sending emails that take minutes to load. Jace moves around me like I'm a piece of furniture, heatingsomething on the stove that smells increasingly delicious as my frustration mounts.

"This is unacceptable," I mutter after my third dropped call with the airline. "I have to be back in Toronto by tomorrow afternoon."

Jace pauses his cooking to look at me directly. "That's not happening."

"Excuse me?"

"The pass is closed. Completely. Even if the snow stops right now—which it won't—the plows can't clear it until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."

"But my flight—"

"Is something you're going to miss," he finishes, his tone matter-of-fact rather than unkind. "Weather happens, Elisa. No amount of planning changes that."

I sink onto one of his beautifully crafted chairs, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. I'm truly stranded here. For days, potentially.

"Dinner's ready," he says after a moment. "Might as well eat while the power's still on."

"The power might go out?" This just keeps getting better.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm prepared either way." He sets two bowls of stew on the table, along with a loaf of bread that looks suspiciously homemade. "Eat."

The first spoonful nearly makes me moan. It's rich and hearty, exactly what I didn't know I needed after this hellish day. We eat in silence for a few minutes before curiosity gets the better of me.

"So you built this place yourself?" I ask between bites.

He nods. "Started five years ago. Still adding to it when I have time."

"That's... impressive." It's a gross understatement, but words are failing me as I take in the craftsmanship surrounding us. "I can barely hang a picture frame straight."

One corner of his mouth quirks up. "Different skill sets."

"Clearly." I take another bite of stew. "And you make furniture too? For the lodge?"

"And custom pieces for clients. Plus specialized equipment for the Search and Rescue team."

"You're on Search and Rescue?" This man is becoming more intriguing by the minute.

"Equipment specialist." He tears a piece of bread in half with those capable hands. "I design and maintain gear for alpine rescues. Sometimes participate in operations when needed."

I try not to stare at his fingers as they break apart the bread. "So you literally save people from situations exactly like mine. Stranded in snowstorms."

"Yep." He meets my eyes directly. "Though usually they're in more danger than having to postpone a society wedding."

My cheeks heat. "That 'society wedding' happens to be my biggest client. The one that could make or break my business."

"And you think they'll fire you because of a blizzard?"

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