A Bride for the Mountain Man

by Tracy Madison

  He didn’t speak; she didn’t, either. Max went to Liam and braced his body against him, as if offering support. And Maggie did the same with Meredith. These dogs. Too smart for their own good.

  The air between Liam and Meredith thickened somehow, as if all the unsaid words weighed it down.

  Finally, Liam pushed himself off the rail, saying, “Get your coat and such, Goldi. We’ll...ah...be waiting in the truck.”

  She might have nodded, but she couldn’t swear to that fact. But she also didn’t move from her position until Liam and the dogs had reached his truck, her eyes glued to him, his long-legged walk, the confident manner in which he carried himself.

  She loved him. Without doubt, now that she’d seen him again, heard that voice again, looked into those eyes again. And she did not care how illogical or improbable or even impossible the realization. She knew. Love existed.

  How far that love would take her, how much it would grow and deepen, remained unknown. But it was there for this man, and she saw no reason to deny that truth.

  “Why are you still standing there?” Liam hollered, waking her from her trance. “I have plans for you, woman. Don’t make me wait all day.”

  “Don’t you call me woman!” she hollered back. “I have a name, you know.”

  “Meredith,” he said, “will you please get moving, so we can commence with the afternoon I have planned? I would be ever so grateful.”

  She laughed. Loudly. And turned on her heel to get her coat and gloves. He had plans. For her. And didn’t that sound so very pleasant? Not to mention...intriguing and hopeful and just breathtaking with all the possibilities? Lord. There were so many possibilities.

  So many possible paths. Some included Liam, some didn’t. And she did not know what he had in mind for the day, or if this was the start of a new path, one that would extend beyond a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon.

  But he was here. He wanted to see her. Had admitted to missing her! Right now, those three facts were glorious enough. Miraculous enough.

  And the rest? Whatever loomed, she’d take it and run. One second, one minute, one afternoon at a time. Because that was life. This was life. She refused to waste any of it.

  * * *

  For the first time in a full friggin’ month, Liam’s heart didn’t ache with emptiness. His head wasn’t overflowing with annoying, complex questions he did not want to answer. Wasn’t ready to answer. And damn it, the way this woman made him smile.

  His cheeks hurt from the strain. Which was both annoying and wonderful. Astounding and irritating. Why did anyone need to smile so much their cheeks hurt?

  He did not know, but all in all, he felt better than he had since that afternoon he’d dropped off Meredith. With her, he was...what? Restored? Ridiculous thought, but one he could no longer discount or ignore. Hell, even his bones felt sturdier.

  Which seemed to state that Fiona’s take on the matter might hold water.

  He might be falling in love with Meredith—because he wasn’t ready to fully admit he was already there—and if so, he was just going to have to decide what to do about it. Embrace and accept and move forward or tuck his tail between his legs and run away. Pretend and hide.

  Sighing, he set the mess aside and decided to just sink himself into the day, into this time with Meredith and let the rest sort itself out as needed. Right now, he was restored. He’d admitted it. More than enough reality for a man like him to absorb at once.

  He took her to a local park, showed her the bag of snowman accoutrements he’d gotten from Fiona and told her they were finally going to build that snowman, but that she would have to instruct him on the proper method. Since, yup, he did not have that experience.

  Damn it, the smile that wreathed her face made his smile even larger. Made his cheeks hurt even more. The whole world brought into focus by a woman’s smile. And he found he...liked that feeling. That realization. Almost as much as—

  “No! Liam, you’re making his head too big,” Meredith said, interrupting his thoughts. Delusions? Maybe that, too. “Now you have to start over.”

  Cheeks pink from the cold, lips, too, and her hair a disarray of golden curls that all but glittered in the late afternoon sun. Beautiful. Spunky. A pain in the ass.

  “I’ll have you know that this ball is the perfect size for our snowman’s head,” he said, wanting to rile her up a bit more. For no other reason than it was fun. “Besides which, what’s wrong with having a big head? You’ve seemed to get along just fine and—”

  An icy cold splash of snow hit his face. “I’ll have you know that my head is perfectly proportioned to the rest of my body,” she said, as she lobbed another snowball his way. This time, he saw it coming and got out of the way. “Now, your head? That’s a different story.”

  Another smile. Another laugh. Another half dozen snowballs before they got back to the question of the correct size for a snowman’s head. He gave in. Because doing so made her laugh, tease and smile all that much harder. Good stuff, in Liam’s opinion.

  “There, look at that,” Meredith said, moving to stand beside him when the snowman was featureless but built. She handed him the bag from Fiona’s. “Go on. Give him his personality. His eyes and nose and mouth. Bring him to life, Liam. And then...give him a name. Because every snowman needs a name.”

  Bring him to life? Like she had done with him?

  Asinine thought, so he put it out of his normal-sized head as fast as it had arrived. That thought was for later, when she wasn’t in his immediate area messing with his logic.

  “Sure. I can do that. Let’s see, where to start.” He fished through the bag and laid the carrot, buttons and chunks of coal on the snow in front of his creation. And he decided to rile her up a bit more.

  Because...why not?

  So, while she played with Max and Maggie—tossing them snowballs to leap after—he used the buttons for the eyes and nose, the coal in a nice, even row down the body and then he took that carrot and pressed it flat into the snowman’s head for his mouth, instead of sticking out straight for the nose.

  She hadn’t noticed yet, as she was too busy with the dogs, so he finished by wrapping the scarf around the arms—two tree branches they’d found—instead of circling what would be the snowman’s neck.

  “There. All done. I now have the experience of building a snowman,” he said to Meredith. “And I name him Oliver. Because...well, he looks like an Oliver, don’t you think?”

  She stopped playing with the dogs to give Oliver the proper amount of attention, and yup, she laughed. Walked to the snowman and gave him another long look. “I have never seen a carrot smile before,” she said. “But you know what? He’s perfect. Because you made him.”

  Well, his plan to rile her up had failed. He didn’t mind. Not with that smile.

  “I like him, too,” Liam said. “Thank you. I can now say my life is complete.”

  Large blue eyes blinked once. Twice. Three times. “Well, every person should build a snowman at least once in their life. So, you’re welcome. Thank you for bringing me here, for letting me do this with you. I...I don’t know, Liam. You have a way about you.”

  “So do you,” he said, wanting nothing more than to grab her in his arms and kiss her. Long and hard. Soft, too. The want to taste her again wove in next, to claim her as his, to give himself to her and just let the dice fall wherever they landed. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  But he might be able to...

  Before he could swallow the need that suddenly came over him, wiping out even the desperate want to kiss her, he held out his hand. “Come with me,” he said. “I want to talk for a while. I want to share something with you, and I’ll warn you. It isn’t an easy story.”

  Curiosity along with a good dose of surprise flashed over her expression, but she nodded. Held out her glove-covered
hand to his, and he clasped it tightly. “Whatever you want to talk about, I’m happy to listen. Anything, Liam.”

  “Oh, I know how you like to talk,” he teased. The moment didn’t lighten as he’d hoped, but that was okay. It wasn’t going to be a light conversation.

  He led her to a park bench, where they sat side by side. And then, before he could change his mind or allow the million reasons—valid reasons, damn it—why he shouldn’t let this woman in any more than he already had, he just pushed out the first sentence. “I am a widower, Meredith. Going on ten years now.”

  “Oh.” Her grip tightened on his, and a bolt of courage, strength, existed there. Comfort. Desire. Acceptance. So much he felt from this woman. So much he felt for her. Too much, really. Too fast and too furious. “What was her name?”

  “Christy.” And then bit by bit, word by word, the story fell from his lips. As if it had just been sitting there, waiting for all this time for Meredith to hear.

  He spoke of how they met—via a mutual friend—their courtship, their spur-of-the-moment decision to get married and how they didn’t tell anyone until after the fact. Her pregnancy. His assignment. And the horrible tragedy that stole his wife and child while he was photographing birds in the Amazon Basin.

  As he spoke the words he never really had before, she listened in silence. She never let go of his hand. She didn’t interrupt with questions or her sorrow. She just let him talk.

  And oh, he talked for a while. Longer than he’d expected to when he began. Longer than he thought he had it in him to talk about anything, let alone the greatest pain of his life. It was hard, but it wasn’t. It was sad, but it was also...freeing in a way he hadn’t imagined.

  “Remember that picture of the birds? In my office?” he asked when he was done with the rest. “I took that the day before they died, and I remember...I remember thinking that those birds were like Christy and I with our baby on the way. That they represented our life. Happy and bright and colorful, full of song and...hope. So much hope. And I couldn’t wait to get back to her, to be there with her, to start our journey as a family.”

  He heard a deep intake of breath, and her hand tightened another degree. She got it. He didn’t have to say anything more. She understood.

  But in a way that he couldn’t understand, he also felt as if the burden of this pain, this loss, was now halved. As if Meredith had taken on some of the burden for him and was now helping him carry it.

  Ludicrous thought, but it fit. It...yeah, it fit.

  A hard, almost desperate shudder rolled through his body from head to toe, and she just kept holding on to his hand. Following the shudder, after years of existing without oxygen, of feeling as if the wind had been permanently knocked out of him, he took the first real and true breath he’d inhaled since the moment he’d learned of Christy and his unborn child’s fate.

  He breathed in as long and deeply as he could. Even then, Meredith didn’t talk. But she leaned over to put her head on his shoulder.

  The soft brush of her hair smelled like honey and almonds and...home. Lord help him, everything about her resonated as home. He supposed he’d have to layer in that realization with the rest, see where it brought him. Form some decisions.

  But not now. Perhaps not for a while. He just didn’t know. Time was called for.

  They sat there for a while longer. The dogs, spent from their boisterous play, were resting on the ground in front of them. Again, there was serenity and peace and a sense of...rejuvenation? Maybe that.

  “You’re something special, Meredith,” Liam finally said. “My dogs knew that about you instantly, and I wasn’t too far behind. I...thank you for listening. For sitting with me in that memory and for allowing me to...well, just talk it out, I guess. I’m not used to doing that.”

  “I know you’re not, and Liam? You’re welcome.” She kissed him softly and quickly on his cheek. “I’m always here for you. That is something you should know.”

  And that was it. All that needed to be said. For now anyway.

  Chapter Eleven

  The interview went well. So well, that Meredith expected to hear good news within the next day or so. Once she did, assuming she did, she could go about checking off the rest of the items on her to-do list. An apartment here in Steamboat Springs. Returning to San Francisco to pack up her belongings and officially move her life here. And she couldn’t wait.

  Today, though, she had more important matters on her mind. Her period was late. By one full week and that had never happened before.

  Never.

  So, while she tried to convince herself that she was likely worrying for nothing, that stress and the accident and everything else that had occurred could be more than enough to mess with her body...she knew.

  And she was petrified.

  The second she left the interview, in her second rented car that matched her first, she drove to a local convenience store and bought two pregnancy tests. Two. So she could verify the results of the first, because yeah, she’d have to for her peace of mind.

  And then she’d returned to Rachel’s, relieved to find the house empty, and tore open both boxes. Read the instructions. Locked herself in the bathroom and...peed on the first stick.

  She waited with her forehead pressed to her knees, forcing air in and out of her lungs. Trying to ignore the panic brewing in her blood. She couldn’t be pregnant. She had zero symptoms: no morning sickness and her breasts weren’t sore or swollen. Her body felt completely normal, just as it always had. She couldn’t be pregnant.

  She wasn’t ready.

  Not when everything in her life was finally starting to come together and feel right. Not when everything with Liam was starting to come together and feel real and possible more than blindly and illogically hopeful. Just not now. This wasn’t the time. For her, for him, for them.

  And oh, God, not after learning about his heartbreaking, tremendous loss.

  A wife he’d loved. A baby on the way. Both gone in the blink of an eye, and a man who had already suffered great loss in his lifetime—his parents’ deaths and all that missing time with his sister—had to prevail over another loss. It wasn’t fair. It made her problems even less important, almost ridiculous, because she’d never had to sustain anything like Liam had.

  Enough time had passed to look at the stick. To see if a plus sign or a negative sign had appeared.

  But she didn’t want to. In this second, she could remain clueless and hang on to her hope that she wasn’t—couldn’t be—carrying Liam’s baby. Her baby. Their baby. Because it wasn’t time for either of them. What would she do? What would he do?

  Think this through.

  Right. Follow the possible paths. Determine the likeliest scenarios. Put some weight behind the what-if to bolster her courage and remind her that she could handle whatever came her way.

  She’d survived getting lost in the mountains during a freak snowstorm, hadn’t she? Yes. Okay, so that was nothing compared to the possibility of being pregnant, becoming a mother and raising a child. Even so, it showed she was tenacious. Strong. Capable.

  So, she didn’t lift her head from her knees. She forced the brewing panic to calm. If a plus sign existed when she looked, then what?

  Well, the first thing would be to process the information. Second would be, naturally, telling Liam, because he deserved to know as soon as possible. A difficult, emotional conversation would likely follow. But how would he react? Shock would come first, no doubt. Anger? No. Liam wouldn’t be angry, he’d be...scared? Probably even more frightened than she was at this moment, but he wouldn’t admit that to himself, let alone to her.

  Shocked. Scared. What else? Protective? Based on everything she knew about him, how he’d been with her, then yes...protective. Accountable, too. He wouldn’t run from the financial responsibility or the hands-on day in
and day out of being a father. She knew this. He might attempt to corral the situation into a neat little box so that he felt it was under control. Doable.

  What would that mean? A shotgun wedding? Meredith sighed. Yeah, he very well could suggest they marry for the best interests of the baby. And as much as she yearned for...well, everything with this man, she wouldn’t settle into a marriage of obligation. That was not the life she wanted.

  For herself or for Liam.

  Of course, if they were to arrive at that beautiful place from her dream where they truly loved each other, couldn’t imagine a life without the other...that was an entirely different story. But they weren’t there yet. Whether or not she was pregnant.

  Breathing deeply, Meredith considered the least likely alternative: that she was wrong and that Liam would run from her, the baby and the responsibility.

  No. That was not the man she knew, but...she had to follow through with the thought. For her sake. If the impossible were to happen, what would she do?

  Well. Pretty much what she was already doing: creating a life of her own making. The same necessities existed: a job she enjoyed that paid what she needed. A safe home. Friends. Family. Laughter and love and more happiness than sadness.

  Yes. The very same framework for a life she had already started to create. That life would simply include one extra person; her son or daughter.

  Meredith’s panic didn’t fully disappear, but the smog in her head cleared. Her heart didn’t beat quite so hard, and the nausea swirling in her stomach eased.

  If she were indeed pregnant, she’d handle whatever came next. With Liam by her side, in the multiple ways that could occur, or without Liam anywhere to be seen. She could do this. On her own, if necessary.

  Another deep inhale of oxygen and Meredith lifted her head from her knees, closed her eyes and reached for the pregnancy test she’d left on the edge of the bathtub. Gripping her hand tightly around the test, she counted to three and opened her eyes.