Page 6 of Unwrapped By the Grumpy Mountain Man
I close my laptop and turn toward the kitchen doorway as he appears. His eyes are bloodshot, his clothes rumpled. He needs a shave and probably a shower.
"Morning, Dad." I cross my arms over my chest, the mortgage notice burning a hole in my back pocket. "Or should I say afternoon?"
He grunts, heading straight for the coffee pot. "Don't start."
"When were you going to tell me about the mortgage?" I pull the notice out and slap it on the counter. "Four months, Dad. Four."
He freezes, coffee mug halfway to the pot. "Been meaning to handle that."
"Handle it how? By ignoring it until they kick us out?" My voice rises despite my efforts to stay calm. "This is Mom's house. Our home."
"You think I don't know that?" He slams the mug down, coffee sloshing over the rim. "You think I need you reminding me what this place meant to her? To us?"
"Then act like it! Get your shit together and stop drowning yourself at the bottom of a bottle!"
The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Not because they aren't true, but because I know they won't change anything. We've had this fight a dozen times since Mom died five years ago.
His shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him. "I'm trying, Violet. I got an interview next week at the sawmill."
"That's good." I soften my tone. "But we need money now. For the mortgage."
"I know." He rubs his hand across his face. "I'll figure something out."
But we both know he won't. Not in time, anyway.
He shuffles to his room without another word, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts. I return to the table and open my laptop again, staring at the mail-order bride email.
Fifty thousand dollars.
I could do it. I could pretend to be interested, gather information for my article, maybe even negotiate an advance payment. It wouldn't be a real marriage—just research with benefits. Financial benefits.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I hit reply and start typing.
To whom it may concern,
I'm interested in learning more about your mountain man seeking a bride. I'm 22, single, local to Eden Ridge, and available to meet immediately. Please provide more details about the arrangement and compensation structure.
Sincerely,
Violet Huxley
I hit send beforeI can second-guess myself, then grab my phone and text Ivy.
Me:I think I have a plan.
The reply comes immediately.
Ivy:Should I be worried?
I stareat the email confirmation blinking on my screen.
Probably.
My phone buzzes again almost instantly.
Ivy:I'm coming over. Don't do anything crazy until I get there.
Too late,I think, watching as a new email notification appears in my inbox. The subject line reads,RE: MOUNTAIN MAN SEEKING MAIL-ORDER BRIDE - Information Request.
