Page 1 of The Mountain Man Bidder

Chapter 1

Stella

The last place Iwant to be on a Friday evening is the cramped back room of the community center, flanked by glittery posters announcing the "Hawks Roost Bachelor and Bachelorette Charity Auction Extravaganza." Yet here I am, smoothing my skirt nervously while Mrs. Willoughby, the head of the Friends of the Library committee, adjusts the enormous bow pinned to my blouse. It’s pink and frilly, and I’m pretty sure it’s been recycled from a 1980s bridesmaid dress.I’ve literally been giftwrapped for the highest bidder.

“You’re going to be the star of the evening, dear,” Mrs. Willoughby chirps, her glasses sliding precariously down hernose as she steps back to inspect me. Her smile is warm, but it doesn’t quite ease the pit of dread in my stomach.

I glance around at the other bachelors and bachelorettes getting ready around me. They babble excitedly, laughing with each other. Do they not find this whole situation bizarre and degrading?

I want to help raise money for the library, but I just don’t think I can do this. Bile rises in my throat at the thought of standing on stage while men bid on a date with me like I’m a prized pig at the county fair.

Oh, God. What if nobody bids on me? That would be so much worse.

“Isn’t there someone else who can do this instead of me?” I plead with Mrs. Willoughby.

She waves off my suggestion with a dismissive flutter of her hand. “Who better to represent the library than our very own librarian? Don’t you want to raise money for the library?”

“Of course,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. The library’s budget is stretched thin, and if this ridiculous event helps fund all of our valuable programs, then I’ll swallow my pride.What other choice do I have?

“You’ll be wonderful,” Mrs. Willoughby says, patting my arm before bustling off to check on the decorations. I’m left standing in front of the mirror, trying to ignore the nagging voice in my head that whispers things like, “No one’s going to bid on you,” and “This is a terrible idea.”

The backroom door creaks open, and I glance over my shoulder to see my best friend, Lucy, peeking inside. “You look adorable,” she says, stepping in and closing the door behind her. Lucy’s wearing a sleek black dress that makes her look like she belongs in a glossy magazine. Next to her, I feel like a frumpy cupcake.

“I look ridiculous,” I mutter, gesturing to the bow. “Did you know about this?”

“The bow? No,” Lucy says, a tiny smile dancing on her lips. “But you look beautiful, and people love you. They’ll be falling over themselves to bid on a date with you.”

“I don’t want people falling over themselves,” I grumble, crossing my arms. “I just want to do my job and go home to a good book. Is that too much to ask?”

Lucy gives me a look. “It’s one date, not a lifelong commitment. And it’s for a good cause. Besides, you might even have fun. Who knows? Your very own Mr. Darcy could be out there, just waiting for his chance to win a date with you.”

“I’m more of a Captain Frederick Wentworth girl…”

Lucy frowns. “Who?”

I sigh. “He’s the hero inPersuasion.You’d know that if you ever actually read the books for our book club. One of these days, we’re going to kick you out.”

Lucy chuckles. “Fat chance. I bring the wine.”

I’m about to argue when the muffled sound of applause filters through the walls. The event is starting. My stomach does a nervous flip, and I take a deep breath, reminding myself why I’m doing this.The library needs the money… the library needs the money… the library needs the money…

“Okay,” I say, straightening my spine. “Let’s get this over with.”

Lucy grins and links her arm through mine. “That’s the spirit. Now, let’s go make you the most sought-after date of the night.”

As she leads me toward the stage, I can’t help but wish I’d hidden behind the stacks in the library where no one would find me. But then the curtain parts, and I’m blinded by the bright stage lights and the sound of cheerful chatter. For better or worse, there’s no turning back now.

Chapter 2

Pete

Songbirds chatter happily asthey bounce from limb to limb in the trees lining the nearby creek. I inhale deeply, taking in the rich scents of pine and soil. There’s no one around for miles.Just how I like it.

Out here, on the mountain, it’s just me and the land. No judgment and no expectations. Just the steady rhythm of the wilderness and the sweat on my brow.

I swing my axe down hard, splitting a thick log clean in two. I stack the pieces onto the growing pile beside me, then roll my shoulders, shaking off the tension. A hard day’s work—chopping wood, checking my traps, tending to the land—is better than the noise of town.

I used to be part of that world once. Too many people, too many eyes, too much talking. It’s easier up here, where the only voices belong to the wind and the trees. Some of us are just loners by nature.And there’s nothing wrong with that, despite what all the busybodies in town think.

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