Page 5 of The Miner's Miracle
Andy.His name surfaces like a bad memory, and I grimace. My ex-fiancé, the slick-talking financier who swept me off my feet and then abandoned me for a job in Paris without so muchas a discussion. He expected me to follow him blindly, like I didn’t have my own life, my own dreams. And when I refused, he didn’t even try to fight for us.
Maybe that’s why this mail-order bride idea appeals to me. There’s no room for manipulation or betrayal here. Just mutual respect and honesty. At least, that’s what I hope.
I stare at the phone number at the bottom of the ad, my thumb hovering over the call button. My heart pounds in my chest, and for a moment, I feel ridiculous. Who does this? Who answers a mail-order bride ad in the twenty-first century?
Apparently, I do.
I take a deep breath and tap the screen, sending a simple text message:Hi, I’m interested in learning more about your ad. Please let me know if it’s still available.
The message sends, and I immediately regret it. What if this is a mistake? What if I end up with someone who’s worse than Andy? But then I think about Finn—rough, grumpy Finn—and how he still managed to soften for Shep. Maybe there’s hope yet.
My phone buzzes again, and my stomach flips. It’s a response, short and to the point:Yes, it’s still available. Let’s talk. Meet me at The Devil’s Brew in Devil’s Peak on Saturday. 4pm.
I stare at the screen for a moment, my mind racing with possibilities. Then I set the phone down and head upstairs. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out what to say next. For now, I need sleep—or at least to stop overthinking.
As I tuck myself into bed a few minutes later, my mind drifts back to Finn’s cabin. I picture him standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of annoyance and something I can’t quite name. Despite myself, I smile.
Maybe Devil’s Peak isn’t such a bad place to start over after all.
Chapter Four
Finn
The package looks innocent enough sitting on my porch—small, unassuming, taped neatly like every other delivery that comes out this way. I ordered a few new things last week, just a couple of tools that were supposed to arrive today. Shep sniffs at the box as if he knows it’s for me, wagging his tail lazily before flopping onto the porch with a huff.
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” I mutter, ripping the tape off the top. The second the flaps open, a low rumble and buzz starts up, vibrating so intensely it’s like the damn thing’s trying to escape the box.
“What the fuck?” I bark, startled as the noise grows louder, and Shep sits up, his head cocked in curiosity.
From the corner of my eye, I see Tessa’s head whip up from where she’s kneeling in her garden. She’s wearing one of those sundresses she’s too fond of—thin straps, a skirt that clings to her curves and leaves little to the imagination, and a floral print that’s entirely too cheerful. Her hands are covered in dirt, her face flushed from the heat, and I’m immediately suspicious when she stands and starts storming over like she’s got something to prove.
Her red cheeks deepen when she sees what I’m holding. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping her trowel and yanking off her gloves.
The buzzing intensifies. Shep barks.
“Care to explain?” I ask, holding up the offending object—a bright pink toy that definitely isn’t the drill I was expecting.
Tessa’s face goes as red as the tulips she was just planting. “That’s... that’s not yours,” she stammers, reaching for it, but I hold it just out of her reach.
“You sure about that?” I ask, fighting the grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.
“Yes, I’m sure!” she snaps, her embarrassment only fueling my amusement. “It’s mine, okay? The delivery guy must’ve mixed up the addresses.”
I raise an eyebrow, letting the vibrator buzz in my grip for a second longer. “Seems like a fun tool for gardening,” I deadpan.
“Oh, give it to me!” she huffs, lunging forward and snatching it out of my hand.
The buzzing doesn’t stop.
She fumbles with it, pressing random buttons in a desperate attempt to turn it off. Her hands shake, her frustration mounting, and Shep—ever the opportunist—thinks it’s a game. He jumps to his feet, his tail wagging as he lunges forward, barking and eyeing the toy like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.
“Keep your dog away from me!” Tessa yells, holding the vibrator above her head as if that’ll save her.
“Shep, no!” I bark, stepping between them and shoving the dog back. “Jesus, Tessa, you better hurry up before he thinks you’re playing fetch.”
Her glare could cut through stone. “You’re not helping!”
“I could’ve guessed that,” I shoot back, watching her struggle with the still-buzzing device.
