Page 29 of The Mountain Man's Fake Christmas Bride
Blunt. I like her already.
She makes her way to the door with slow but determined steps, eagle eyes missing nothing as she surveys the cabin and then me, standing nervously in the entryway.
"So." She looks me up and down. "This is the wife."
"Jennifer Walsh." I step forward, offering my hand. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Calloway."
"Mildred, please. Mrs. Calloway was my husband's mother, a dreadful woman with an unfortunate fondness for floral prints." She takes my hand, her grip surprisingly firm. "You're younger than I expected."
"She's twenty eight," Jared says, coming to stand beside me. "And brilliant."
The compliment warms me even as Aunt Mildred's shrewd eyes continue their assessment.
"Pretty too," she concedes. "Though you could use more meat on your bones. Don't they feed you in the city?"
"Aunt Mildred," Jared warns.
"What? It's a compliment. In my day, curves were celebrated." She turns to the driver. "Harold, please bring my bags to the guest room Mr. Calloway has prepared for me. I'll be staying here with my nephew and his wife during my visit. You enjoy the bed and breakfast. I hear Whisper Vale has excellent gingerbread this time of year."
The next hour is a whirlwind of settling Aunt Mildred into the guest room, serving tea (which I apparently make too weak), and fielding questions about our relationship, my background, and why someone with my education would choose to live "in the middle of nowhere with a man who communicates primarily in grunts."
"He's quite articulate when you get to know him," I defend, catching Jared's amused glance from across the room.
"Hmm." Aunt Mildred doesn't sound convinced. "And how exactly did you two meet? Beverly mentioned something about a wedding, but that woman gets her facts mixed up half the time."
Jared and I exchange a look. Here comes the test of our rehearsed story.
"We've actually known each other since we were kids," I begin. "My foster brother Ridge is one of Jared's closest friends."
"The wild looking one with the beard?" Aunt Mildred interrupts. "The hunting guide?"
"That's him." I smile at her accurate description. "Anyway, I moved back to Whisper Vale last year after living in San Diego, and Jared and I reconnected."
"She came into my store," Jared continues smoothly. "Looking for art supplies."
"I remembered him immediately," I add. "The quiet boy who taught me how to bait a hook when I was thirteen."
"And I remembered her too." Jared's voice softens. "The girl with the color coded fish notebook and too many questions."
The genuine fondness in his tone makes my heart skip. That part, at least, isn't rehearsed.
"He asked me to dinner," I continue. "A picnic at Eagle's Peak. And things just... clicked."
"And you married after how long?" Aunt Mildred's tone is skeptical.
"Six months," Jared answers. "When you know, you know."
"In my day, couples courted properly before marriage."
"It was a small ceremony," I say quickly. "Just Ridge and Jared's assistant Chloe as witnesses. At the courthouse in Reno."
"No church wedding? No family?" Aunt Mildred frowns. "Seems hasty."
"We wanted something intimate," Jared steps in. "Something that was just about us."
Aunt Mildred looks between us, her expression unreadable. "And you're happy? Truly happy?"
The question catches me off guard with its sincerity. I look at Jared, finding his eyes already on me, warm and steady.
