Page 3 of The Mountain Man's Untamed Bride
My stomach dropped like a stone in a deep well. "You didn't."
"I did mention it to you," he defended. "Last Tuesday, remember? When you were replacing that window?"
I vaguely recalled him shouting something from the ground while I'd balanced on a ladder fifteen feet up, focused on not falling to my death. "While I was working on a two-story drop? That's your idea of informed consent?"
"The point is," Flint continued, entirely unrepentant, "your seven days are up, and she's been matched."
"She? There's an actual woman in this scenario?" The concept seemed absurd. What kind of woman signed up to marry a stranger in the middle of nowhere?
"Scarlett Montgomery. Twenty-four. From Atlanta." Flint pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped a few times, and held it out to me. "See for yourself."
I scowled before reluctantly taking the phone. The screen showed a photo of a young woman with hair the color of autumn leaves and a smile that looked like it belonged in a toothpaste commercial. She was pretty in a wholesome, girl-next-door way that made me immediately suspicious.
"Says here she loves cooking, cleaning, and keeping house," Flint continued. "She's sweet, quiet, loves animals and children. Wants a big family someday. Profile mentions she has 'good Christian values' too."
"Which probably means she's a virgin," he added with a knowing wink. "From a good family, by the looks of it."
I handed the phone back, skepticism rising. "And she wants to marry some random mountain hermit she's never met? What's wrong with her?"
"Maybe she wants the simple life. Some women do, you know. Josie could've gone to Denver, worked for her uncle's accounting firm. Instead, she chose to run a shop in a town with more dogs than people because she loves it here."
"Josie's a native," I pointed out. "She was born two miles from your store. This girl is from Atlanta. You know, a city with actual infrastructure and functioning electricity."
"Maybe she's not running. Maybe she's just... looking for something different."
"Different from what? Indoor plumbing and electricity that works consistently?" I shook my head. "This has to be some kind of scam."
"Well, you can ask her yourself. Tomorrow."
I choked on my homebrew. "Tomorrow? TOMORROW? What the hell, Flint?"
"She's driving up from Georgia. Should be here around noon." Flint's expression brightened with mischievous delight. "Surprise!"
"I haven't even cleared out the spare room!" The words burst out before I could stop them.
Flint stared at me. "What's wrong with the spare room?"
"There might still be evidence of the raccoon tenants who were living there until recently." I ran a hand through my hair, mind racing. "This isn't happening. Call her. Cancel it."
"Can't. She's already on the road, and these mountain passes don't exactly have reliable cell service." Flint leaned forward. "Look, just meet her. If you absolutely hate each other, I'll help sort it out. But give it a chance, Bodhi. You've been alone too long."
I paced the small confines of my cabin, feeling like a trapped animal. "This isn't the 1800s. Normal people don't order spouses through the mail!"
"You're not normal people," Flint pointed out. "You live five miles past where civilization ends, talk to birds, and haven't had a haircut from someone other than yourself in what, three years?"
"Two," I corrected automatically. "Mabel did it when I got that sap stuck in it."
"My point exactly." He tapped his wedding ring. "Some of us got lucky and found the right person in our youth. The rest of you need a little help. Josie says all that's missing from your life is someone to share it with."
"Josie also said my cabin looked like a serial killer's workshop."
"Only the shed," Flint corrected with a grin. "She said the cabin just needed a woman's touch."
I collapsed onto the couch, sending up a cloud of dust that was probably half dog hair, despite the fact that I didn't own a dog. "I can't believe this is happening."
"Believe it." Flint finished his drink and stood. "Now, let's get this place ready for a lady. Where's your vacuum?"
I stared at him as if he'd just asked me where I parked my spaceship.
