Page 3 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Runaway
“So, you expected to faint?” I asked.
She sighed. “I was hoping you’d know my situation when I arrived so I didn’t have to go through it all.”
Her situation. She fainted a lot. Shewasdying.
I looked for that cool block of ice that kept everyone away from my heart, and I couldn’t find it. All I could see was this beautiful angel.
“You helped me escape a cult,” she said, eyes still closed. “You saved me from becoming Zachary’s wife.”
Zachary’s wife. The weird attire. My first bizarre thought was that this beautiful woman in front of me was from the past. A time traveler. She’d been brought to my driveway by a horse and buggy.
Yeah, that was ridiculous, so I focused on the first part of what she said. “You were in a cult?”
“Born and raised,” she said with a nod. “I had twelve older siblings. I was the youngest. The last bride. The only reason I didn’t become a wife at the age of sixteen was that the leader andhis team had their hands full with the other girls. I don’t want that life anymore. I never did. Actually, I was never given the choice.”
I couldn’t believe any of this. But somehow, looking at her, I knew she wouldn’t lie. Especially when she settled those cornflower blue eyes on me.
This was a good, decent person. Someone who deserved far better than what life had given her so far. And I wanted to give it to her, which was against everything I’d told myself all my life.
I searched for words, but none came. I just stared at her, like I’d lost every brain cell in my head.
“I traveled for two days to get here,” she said quietly. “You said there’d be tacos and chips and salsa.”
I stared at her. “You came all the way here for tacos?”
Her eyes didn’t waver. “Yes.”
That was…unexpected. And oddly charming. Obviously, she’d come here for more than food. She ran from a bad situation and landed directly in the most peaceful town on Earth.
“I said I’d have tacos,” I repeated, just to make sure I’d heard correctly.
“You texted it,” she said simply. “You said you’d have tacos and salsa waiting. That you had the best Mexican restaurant in the state right here in Wildwood Valley.”
She was so matter-of-fact, so steady and sincere, it knocked something loose in me. I didn’t text women I didn’t know. I didn’t make promises like that. But it sounded like something someone might say if they were trying to lure a scared young woman across state lines into a marriage agreement she didn’t fully understand.
Which meant…
“Bobbi,” I said under my breath. “That meddling?—”
She tilted her head. “Sorry?”
I looked back at her, heart pounding just a little too hard in my chest. “I didn’t text you.”
A beat passed, then, “You didn’t?”
“No. I don’t even have your number.”
She looked down. Her shoulders drew in, folding tighter. She seemed to be trying to shrink inside herself.
“But it was your name,” she said quietly. “You said you were Logan. That you’d be waiting for me. That the cabin was quiet and safe. And that you’d have tacos.”
My jaw clenched. “Someone must’ve sent those messages pretending to be me.”
She swallowed hard, then gave a small nod. “So I came here to marry a stranger. And the tacos were a lie.”
Damn it. I should be running from this mess, but I found myself sprinting directly into it.
“I’ve got food,” I said, softer this time. “Not tacos. Not yet. But I’ll get them for you, I swear.”
