Page 2 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Challenge
“I thought you might need help.”
She grinned. “Did I look like I needed help?”
“No,” I reluctantly admitted. “You looked like you’ve done that before.”
“Good eye.” She planted her hands on her hips, her water bottle tucked under one arm. “I’ve been climbing since I was thirteen. Started out at indoor gyms, then moved to bouldering, trad, alpine—whatever I could get my hands on.”
“Thirteen? You grow up around here?”
“Just about. I’m from Kingsport. Thirty minutes that way.” She gestured over the ridge. “Been climbing these mountains since I got my license. I knew every trail in the county by the time I was sixteen.”
That explained the confidence. The grace. The legs.
Jesus.
I tried not to stare again, but it was no use. She was flushed and radiant, like she’d just stepped out of an adventure film. Not the kind of woman I expected to see at the ass-crack of dawn on a quiet mountain trail—especially not one right behind my cabin.
“So, what brings you to this particular patch of land?” I asked.
She looked me dead in the eye and said, “I heard it had a nice view.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You always go climbing at sunrise?”
“Only when I can’t sleep. Or when I’m nervous.”
“Nervous?”
She nodded, then dropped her duffel bag at her feet. “Well, yeah. First impressions matter, right?”
I stared at her. “First impressions of who?”
She smiled, sweet as honey. “You.”
My stomach tensed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I figured I’d meet you bright and early, and I didn’t want to show up half-asleep. I thought I’d loosen up and clear my head. I was going to knock on your door in an hour or two. Hope I’m not too early.”
I blinked. “Hold on. Meetme?”
She nodded.
“You don’t even know me.”
“Oh, but I do,” she said lightly. “I know your name, your cabin location, and that you served with some of the guys on the logging crew here. I know you take your coffee black, hate having neighbors, and told Bobbi you didn’t want a wife.”
Something cold trickled through me. “Bobbi.”
She smiled.
“You’re not—” I started but couldn’t quite finish it.
She held out her hand, all polite and formal. “Hi, Collin. I’m your fiancée.”
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PAGET
“Come on, dude. Don’t leave me hanging.”
