Page 1 of Destined for the Mountain Man

Chapter 1 - Charlotte

“Aaron is a great guy and you’d learn to like him. Think about what kind of life he’d be able to give you, Charlotte,” my dad says.

I’ve tried to change the topic at least three times at this dinner alone. I don’t understand his rush. I’m twenty-four and have plenty of time to find a purpose for myself and A MAN for myself. Maybe I would, if my mother didn’t panic anytime I went thirty minutes without messaging her when I’m outside of the house.

My father’s the one who insisted I get a business degree that went all of nowhere since I have no passion for business. He’s the one who got me a secretary job at a law firm where I have no opportunity to move forward. Every time I’ve tried to take a step forward on my own, my parents have been there to lift me over a puddle, to turn me back to the house, and then lecture me on my lack of growth while assuring they know what is right for me.

As I push my peas around my plate, ignoring my father talking up a man I’ve never met and don’t know (but is apparently very rich), I wonder what I’d do with my own future.

I could look into environmental sciences and conservation. Birds have fascinated me for as long as I can remember—I’ve always loved watching them, tracking their movements and learning their calls. The idea of working with wildlife, protecting their habitats, and making a real impact feels exciting. I’ve always had a creative side too, though—painting has been my escape since I was little. Maybe I could start offering art classes, or even run a soap-making stall at the local farmer’s market. I could pour my energy into all sorts of ventures if I wasn’t living under the constant watchful eye of my parents, who seem determined to control every aspect of my life. They check my bank account, monitor my spending, and would rather hold my hand to walk me across the road than let me face any challenge on my own. It's hard to chase after anything when they’re always there, ready to swoop in and redirect me.

Once I finally escape dinner, saying I have cramps just to stop my father from pressing the issue, I text a few of my friends, then look for any promising online dating sites. Dating has to be something I can choose. Everything I see has bad reviews from women, warnings, complaints. I scroll and scroll until I see a ‘mail-order bride’ website.

“What is this, the nineteen hundreds?” I scoff, despite the fact I’m curling my wavy blonde hair around my finger. I tug my hair and click on it anyway. “Mountain Mates sounds ridiculous.”

I don’t know why I’m scrolling through the profiles. I don’t know why I’m actually getting kind of swept up in the mission statement. This is all about long-term relationships, making serious connections with gorgeous mountain men that otherwise wouldn’t happen.

I keep nibbling my bottom lip and debating. I keep going back and forth on whether I should make a profile. I checksome extra information, and most people are off this site within six months because they end up matched. Everything is based on clear and up front communications. One photo per person, background checks done to ensure safety, a messaging system that doesn’t allow photographs to be shared, then the chance to agree to a meeting.

The site is so straight forward, everything seems so simple, and I can’t imagine it being worse than letting my dad set me up. I glance at my social media and choose a good photo of myself. My blue eyes look sweet and warm rather than ‘too big’ like some people say. My hair is perfectly down and wavy. I’m smiling since one of my friends was making me laugh to get a good photo and there’s just a wall covered in ivy behind me.

A simple green sundress that only hints at my slender curves finishes it off.

I start the profile, thinking about what kind of person I would pair well with, trying to really describe myself in five words, to decide what I want my future to look like. The questions seem so simple, but I want to be honest, I want to really create the future I have in mind.

I lean back in my computer chair and pull my knees up to my chin as I stare at the screen.

“Charlotte, do you want dessert?” My mom calls.

“No, thanks,” I call.

She shoves my door open, making me turn as I click on another window, one that’s about hummingbirds. She looks from my computer to me, drinking in my simple skirt and off the shoulder sweater as I sit in my chair, cheeks flushed, hair knotted around my finger.

“Honey, don’t tell me that you’re watching porn. That will just give you unrealistic expectations and-”

“Mom!” I gasp. “I’m not a teenager, I know all about-”

“You’ve had three boyfriends that you’ve never spent alone time with,” she scoffs. “You have been kissed before, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” I say loudly. “Why did you just barge in like that? The door was closed and-”

“You live under our roof and that means we are allowed in when we wish. Just entertain your father. Go on one date with this Aaron guy and I’m sure sparks will fly. And even if they don’t, that’s normal. Your father and I learned to love each other. Stability, time together, shared values, that’s what builds love,” My mom insists as she walks through my spotless room.

She picks up the romance book from my nightstand and holds it up. “This is just fairytales, honey. No one falls in love like in books and movies.”

I let her keep rambling, but I know she’s wrong. If this wasn’t real to someone, somewhere, then there wouldn’t be so many stories written like this. I believe that there’s more to life than stability and liking someone. I’ve seen my parents’ relationship. They never fight, they never argue, but they also never kiss, never excitedly tell one another about their day.

Hell, I thought that’s how everyone was until I saw my friends’ parents at sleepovers. The love that oozed out of them when they saw each other. How my best friend’s (Monica) parents couldn’t get enough of one another. Her father wouldn’t say a word when he came home until he got a kiss.

That’s the kind of love I want. The kind that doesn’t just settle, the kind that ignites. The kind thateveryonedeserves. Ofcourse, when I stay silent, my mom calls me ‘stuck in my head’ and leaves.

While leaving my door open.

Sighing, I get up and shut it. Before I can run into another problem, I set up my profile. All the men in here are simple, sincere, and they offer a quiet independence that I crave. At worst everything fizzles before I meet up with someone and I’m right back where I started.

I finally hit ‘post’ as I wrap up my profile. I know it will take at least one full day to actually go live since they have to do the background check, but I scroll through other listings.

Every man is rugged, clearly knows how to handle himself, and loves being able to take care of his own life. There’s something appealing about a man who doesn’t make me the center of his world, but still makes me feel like I could be, if I wanted to. A man who has more to live for than just his job, who can handle any problem that comes his way and teach me plenty along the way. It’s even better that all of them live outside the city, with lives full of freedom and space to breathe.

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