a small town just outside of Chicago and I thought going into the city would be the most adventure I’d have in my life. Boy was I wrong.
If only my dad could see me now taking a bus across the country to meet a guy I did not know, who I will be marrying in just two weeks or less. That alone would probably kill him if he wasn’t already dead.
When my dad lost his battle with cancer his savings weren’t able to cover all of his medical bills and his funeral costs. With the sale of our house, I was able to pay those expenses. But that left me effectively homeless and with what happened at the funeral I needed to get out of town and fast.
After staying in a women’s shelter for a week, my friend Aspen allowed me to crash at her place. Like me, her mother had just passed away from cancer and was looking for a way to make some money so she could keep her house.
She ended up at Club Red selling her virginity in an auction. I keep thinking about her and wondering how it’s going. But I on the other hand decided to look into this mail-order bride website that one of the ladies had talked about at the women’s shelter.
So, right now I’m on my way to meet my future husband whose name is Bennett. We’ve talked through e-mail, and I know that he lives on a mountain in a small town called Whiskey River located in Montana. Apparently, it’s not easy to meet girls and with his friends, all married he decided to take an unconventional approach to find his wife.
I figure a tiny town up on a mountain that’s really hard to find seems like a perfect place to be safe and maybe I’ll be able to let my guard down again for the first time in months.
After the contracts were signed, Bennett sent me more than enough money to get out to Whiskey River, cover any of my food and costs along the way, and have plenty left over.
I had no idea that mail-order websites still existed outside of the Old West novels that my dad used to read. But now I guess it’s just a different type of dating with all those reality shows. You know the ones where they know someone for ninety days or less and get married before they even meet the person.
Once I arrive at the bus stop, the photos I have of Bennett are the only way I’ll know how to find him. We agreed to meet a few towns over so that we’re not drawing any attention to ourselves in Whiskey River with it being such a small town and all.
When I look into his dark brown eyes in the photos, they appear kind and my dad always said that a person’s eyes are a window to their soul. But let’s be honest, he’s not bad looking either. His hair is a bit long and you can tell that he’s used to hard work based on the muscles he has, as I’m sure any mountain man is.
Though I was nervous about the thought of living up on the mountain, he assures me he doesn’t need me for the hard work. The house would be my domain. I can take care of the cooking, cleaning, and decorating while he would provide for us and any of our future family.
As the mountains start coming into view, my nerves kick into gear. And not for the first time, the thoughts start racing through my head. Is there any other possible way to do this without marrying a stranger? Yet nothing comes to mind.
Finally, I try to distract myself by reading one of the books that I picked up for a quarter at the local library sale before heading out of town. At last, we reach my bus stop and I sit there and look out the window for a moment trying to spot Bennett.
It’s easy to spot him as he’s taller than most people and sticks out in the crowd. Though he does look almost exactly like his picture as he stands there with his arms crossed, staring at the bus with a blank expression on his face.
At the last moment, I think that I could stay on the bus and drive to the next town, get a different ticket, and shoot him an e-mail in a few days apologizing. Heck, maybe that’s what I should do. But my dad taught me that when you give your word you follow through always. So, I stand up and gather my bag as I make my way to the front of the bus.
Though Bennett can’t see into the bus because the windows are tinted, I can still see him and his eyes are glued to the door of the bus. Hesitating for just a moment, before I step out to meet him.
The moment our eyes lock, his expression softens and his arms drop. Slowly he makes his way over to me and offers a very forced smile.
‘Willow,’ he says, but it’s not a question
I simply nodded my head.
‘Bags?’ he asks.
Yet again I nod.
We walk over to where they’re unloading bags from the extra storage area in the bus. When I see mine, I reach for it, but he places his hand on mine and stops me. Then, picking up my bag as if it weighs nothing, he places his arm around my back, carefully guiding me to the parking lot.
Even though he’s slightly awkward, I find it absolutely adorable. Actually, it helps settle my nerves quite a bit. Then he guides me out to a truck that’s obviously well-used and covered in dirt. When he opens the door, I find the inside clean, which is the exact opposite of what I was expecting.
He takes my bags and places them in the back and then helps me into my seat. Though he doesn’t close the door until I’m buckled in. While he walks to his side, it gives me a minute to take a deep breath, and recenter myself.
‘Ready to head home?’ he asks once he is in his seat.
It may not feel like home, but I guess it is going to be my home. Isn’t it? Though it’s hard to think of a place I’ve never seen before as home.
‘Yes, I’ll be happy to get there.’ Then I give him as much of a smile as I can because he’s been nothing shy of a perfect gentleman.
He puts the truck in gear and navigates out of town onto a small two-lane highway as we head out of town.
‘Will you tell me about Whiskey River?’ I ask wanting to know about where I will be living.
‘I think you’ll like it here. The people are really friendly. We have a small downtown area where there are some stores, including a bakery and a café. Throughout the year, the town has a few events, which we can go to them if you’d like. I know it’s not Chicago, but I promise we can find you plenty to do here, too.’ He says, glancing my way.
So basically, it’s the typical small town. It will take some getting used to but if it means not looking over my shoulder constantly, I say it’s a fair tradeoff.
‘If I wanted Chicago, I would have stayed there. Small town life seems perfect right now and I can’t wait to see Whiskey River.’ I offer him a smile that seems to relax him.
Once we get close to Whiskey River, he lets me know and we drive right down Main Street. Right in front of us is a huge mountain that you could see when walking down the street. The whole downtown has a very cute mountain town vibe with rustic wood and stones.
Main Street seems to have everything from a thrift store to a little grocery store, a café, a bakery, an outdoor store, the bank, and more. Though it doesn’t take us long to drive through downtown before we are heading out of town and up towards the mountain.
‘Come winter it’ll be harder to get into town. But the upside is we’ll be able to do winter sports if that’s something you’re interested in,’ he says.
‘I’ve always wanted to go sledding, but I’ve never been,’ I tell him.
‘Sledding we can do. Not too far from the house, there’s a really great hill perfect for sledding.”
As we continue on the way up to his place, there are some amazing views of the mountain and the scenery below. When we turn into his driveway, it’s still a long way up to the actual cabin, but when we break through the trees, I couldn’t stop the gasp if I wanted to.
His house looks more like a resort with a breathtaking vista of the mountains in the background. It looks like an upscale rustic ski lodge that you would see in a magazine. There are large windows all over the house, taking full advantage of the view. To the side of the house is a garden and then on the other side of the cleared area are some outbuildings and what looks like a large barn.
‘This is your house?’ I ask completely stunned.
‘Yes, I wanted to take advantage of the view.’ He seems a little nervous again.
‘It’s absolutely stunning. I was seriously picturing a little cabin in the woods.’
When he smiles this time, I can tell it’s a full genuine smile. My heart skips a beat at how truly beautiful this man is when he smiles.
He gets out of the truck and grabs my bags and opens the door for me. I take a deep breath and step foot on the mountain that I will be calling home.
