Christopher sounded like the kind of guy who’d make the perfect husband. Not only was he doing something kind of heroic—and was willing to listen to his mom’s scheme in the first place—but he had also put the arrangement he needed at risk because it was the right thing to do. He could have just kept this information to himself and let me be blindsided when I showed up and anticipated a real relationship. There wasn’t much I could have done about it once we were married. “I’m glad he reached out to you. This would have been an awkward conversation to have when I arrived in Snow Valley.”
“I’ll understand if you want to reconsider your decision since you were expecting your marriage to be real.” Holly sighed and patted my hand. “The timeline is awfully tight, but I might be able to find a different bride for Christopher. Someone whose expectations will better match what he wants from a mail-order bride. And then I’d be more than happy to help you find a husband who would be a better match.”
I was tempted to take the easy way out, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if Holly wasn’t successful in finding another bride for Christopher. “The future of the whole town really depends on all six brothers getting married before the start of the new year?”
“I know it sounds like something out of a movie, but yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “The boys don’t have enough money to complete the purchase without all of them chipping in their savings. If one of the marriages falls through, then they won’t be able to buy Snow Valley, and the sale to Titan Corporation will go through.”
Getting my first—and what should have been only—marriage annulled wasn’t what I’d ever pictured for myself. As awkward as the whole thing was bound to be, my bags were already packed, and someone needed to marry the man to help save his town. Maybe I was as impulsive as Whitney said because I blurted out, “You don’t need to find Christopher someone else to marry. I’ll be his bride in name only.”
3
Christopher
Snow Valley had one airport, but it was for private jets and small aircraft. Most visitors flew into a slightly larger regional airport and drove to town. However, if they didn’t have a car or want to rent one, then the next best mode of transportation to our little town was the train.
The station happened to be on Snowflake Lane. It was the same street I lived on, except I was on the opposite side of town, way out past the Snow Valley Ski Slopes, which meant a half-hour drive each way. Since Holly had assured me that my wife-to-be, Winter (my mother was going to flip over that name), was on board with the plan, I was hoping it wouldn’t be too awkward. Although...if she was a talker...it was bound to be uncomfortable.
I’d set up the guest room for her and even added a bouquet. It was a poor apology for being forced to live with my quiet, brooding ass for the next months, but they said more than I did.
While I waited for the train to arrive, I stood just off the platform, leaning against the brick wall of the station house. It was cold as fuck, but I loved the crisp, clean smell of the air when snow was headed our way. I glanced at my watch and saw that the train was running about fifteen minutes behind. My eyebrows tilted down into a frown. If they didn’t beat the snow, it would be a dicey ride back to my house. I wasn’t too far off the beaten path, but the plow only cleared the main roads. I kept a small blade to attach to my truck when I needed to get to town on snowy days.
For some reason, I’d felt some weird desire to impress Winter, so like an idiot, I’d driven my SUV instead. We’d still be able to get home, but it would be slow and steady. It meant more time in the car, which was bound to be filled with tense silence.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I dug it out to glance at the screen.
Lincoln: She there yet?
Me: No. Train is late.
Lincoln: Got your horse and wagon all ready to take your mail-order bride back to the homestead?
Me: Been reading your sister’s romance novels again?
He’d continued joking about my life becoming an old Western romance ever since I told him about the plan.
Lincoln: You know me. Swoon.
I barked out a laugh. Lincoln was a former SEAL, turned professional snowboarder, and one of the burliest guys I knew. And while he didn’t turn his nose up at the idea of love and happily ever afters, he certainly wasn’t a romantic.