Page 7 of The Mountain Man's Mail Order Surprise
"Rosco." Silas looks up from his computer, silver threading through his dark hair catching the afternoon light. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I need some legal advice. Hypothetically speaking."
His green eyes sharpen with interest. "Hypothetically."
I settle into the chair across from his massive oak desk. "What do you know about mail order bride services?"
Silas leans back, fingers steepled. "Are we talking about historical context or modern applications?"
"Modern. Like, legitimate matchmaking services for people who want practical arrangements instead of all that romantic bullshit."
"Ah." Understanding dawns across his features. "You're looking for a business partnership approach to marriage."
"Maybe. I don't know. It's just..." I scrub my hands through my hair. "Dating in this town is impossible. Everyone's either related to me, already taken, or completely wrong for what I need. But I'm not getting any younger, and I want what you and Jordyn have. What Noah and Talia found."
"What we have isn't a business arrangement, Rosco."
"No, but it started practical, didn't it? You were working my uncle’s case, while trying to help Jordyn, who was technically your clent. The feelings came later."
Silas considers this, his lawyer brain clearly working through the implications. "There are legitimate services. High end, thorough background checks, detailed compatibility assessments. Not what most people think of when they hear 'mail order bride.'"
I nod slowly. "More like professional matchmaking?"
"Exactly. For people who value honesty and practicality over romantic games." He turns to his computer. "Give me a few minutes."
While Silas researches, I pace to the window overlooking Main Street. Crimson Hollow bustles with Sunday afternoon activity. Families walk to Bean & Bloom for coffee, couples browse the farmers market, kids play in the small park near the bookstore. Normal life. The kind I want for myself.
The kind I had a taste of in New York, even if it was just for one night.
"Here." Silas turns his monitor toward me. "Signed, Sealed, Hitched. They specialize in what they call'intentional partnerships' for successful professionals who want companionship without the traditional dating drama."
I study the website. Clean, professional, discrete. Testimonials from doctors, lawyers, business owners who found compatible partners through their service. No sleazy photos or desperate personal ads. Just straightforward information about their process.
"How does it work?"
"Well, there's an extensive questionnaire covering everything from lifestyle preferences to long term goals that you'll need to fill out. Then there's professional background checks, health screenings, and psychological compatibility assessments. They then match you with pre-screened candidates who share your practical approach to relationships."
"And then what? You just pick someone from a catalog?"
"Then you communicate through email, video calls, and phone conversations. Get to know each other's expectations and boundaries. If you're both interested, you arrange to meet. If that goes well, you discuss terms."
"Terms?"
"Living arrangements, financial responsibilities, timelines for major life decisions, stuff like that. Think of it as a relationship contract with built in flexibility for emotional development."
The whole thing sounds cold when he explains it like that, but also refreshingly honest. No games, no wondering where you stand, no waiting for someone to make the first move or decode mixed signals. No hoping some stranger will measure up to a perfect memory.
"What's it cost?"
"Five thousand for the full service package. Includes six months of active matching, background checks, and relationship counseling support."
Five grand.That's a new truck payment, or materials for the estate's roof repair. But it's also potentially a solution to the growing loneliness that's been eating at me for the past six months. Ever since I left a hotel room in New York and a woman whose last name I never learned.
"I'll think about it."
"Rosco." Silas's voice carries that older brother authority he picked up from growing up around us over the years. "Whatever you decide, make sure you're doing it for the right reasons. Marriage, even a practical one, changes everything."
I nod and head for the door, but his words follow me to the truck. Right reasons. What are the right reasons? Loneliness? Practical compatibility? The desire to build something lasting with someone who understands that love isn't always lightning strikes and fairy tale romance?
