Page 12 of Trouble with the Mountain Man
"So do you."
We stand there smiling at each other like teenagers until Ally tugs on Flint's shirt.
"Mr. Flint, are you going to marry my mommy?"
Heat floods my cheeks. "Ally!"
"What? You like him and he likes you. That's how it works, right?"
Flint crouches down to her level, completely unruffled. "Your mom and I are just getting to know each other better. But I like spending time with both of you."
"Good. Because she's been happier since you started fixing our house."
My embarrassment shifts to something softer. Has it been that obvious? Have I really been that much lighter, that much more myself, since Flint came into our lives?
Jake arrives to pick up Ally just as we're getting ready to leave, greeting Flint with the easy camaraderie of men who respect each other's work.
"You treat her right," Jake tells Flint with mock seriousness. "She's the best thing to happen to this family in years."
"Jake," I protest, but I'm smiling.
"What? It's true. You've been different since you moved here. Stronger. Happier." He ruffles Ally's hair. "Come on, kiddo. Uncle Jake's going to teach you the finer points of bluffing."
"Is that appropriate?" I ask.
"Life skill," Jake says with a grin. "She'll thank me later."
Dinner is at Silver Lodge, the nicest restaurant in town. The hostess seats us at a table by the window with a view of the mountain ridge that gives our town its name. Flint orders wine, I choose the salmon, and we settle into the kind of conversation that flows like water finding its level.
He tells me about learning stonework from his grandfather, about the satisfaction of creating something permanent in a world full of temporary things. I share stories about building my design business from nothing, about the terror and joy of being solely responsible for Ally's future.
"What made you choose Silver Ridge?" he asks over dessert. "Jake said you could have gone anywhere after the divorce."
"Silver Ridge felt like home in a way Vancouver never did. People here see Ally as an individual, not just Derek's daughter or my responsibility. They see me as someone with value beyond my relationship status."
"You are someone with value beyond any relationship."
"I know that now. But it took living here to really believe it."
He nods, understanding more than I expect. "Torin was the same way after losing his best friend in a fire. Found his worthagain by being useful to the community. This place has a way of healing people."
"Is that what you needed? Healing?"
"Purpose, maybe. I was good at my work but not connected to anything bigger. Then I moved here to keep an eye on Torin, and suddenly I'm building foundations for families, creating things that will outlast me. It matters in a way corporate jobs never did."
The waiter brings our check, but Flint waves away my attempt to contribute. "My idea, my treat."
As we leave the restaurant, several people stop to chat—couples from Ally's school, regulars from Juniper's diner, neighbors who've seen Flint working on my house. Everyone is friendly, accepting, treating us like a natural pairing rather than something shocking.
This is what Derek never understood about small towns. The support system, the way people genuinely care about each other's happiness. In Vancouver, neighbors barely spoke. Here, our relationship is becoming part of the community fabric.
"Want to walk down by the river?" Flint suggests as we reach his truck.
It's a clear night, stars brilliant in the mountain sky. We find a bench overlooking the water, and I curl against his side, marveling at how right this feels.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"For dinner?"
