Listen to me yammering on while the woman awaits my reaction to what she just said.
“A defense attorney. I have to say, that is mighty impressive. So you only handle criminal cases?” I finally reply, even managing to sound coherent.
“For the most part. Sometimes I take civil suits, too, though those are rare and on the side. The criminal justice system keeps me busy enough.”
Ah, that’s one question answered, then. I’ve never worked too hard to woo a woman. Maybe I did when I was a kid, but these days, all I have to do is walk into any bar in Dickinson, smile, and I’ve got at least a couple of phone numbers slipped into my jeans pockets. Michelle is a whole different species altogether, though.
Otherworldly, in fact. Gorgeous. Articulate. Intelligent. Bit of sass in her sense of humor and the sweetest curves I’ve ever seen on a woman. She doesn’t know it, but she’s asking to be loved in every way. Her voice is smooth, her words cut deep.
Yeah, I can see myself wanting something more than just legal advice out of her. Not tonight, though.
No, tonight, I am the gracious host she deserves.
Tomorrow, a new dance begins.
Chapter 8
Michelle
They say sleep can be a miracle cure if the body wants to be healed. And as my eyes peel open after I don’t even know how many hours of robust REM activity, I wonder if my ankle is better.
At first, I give myself a moment to enjoy the overall sensation. The mattress is firm, and that did wonders for my back. I should consider ordering one for myself. The pillows are goose down and wonderfully soft, the covers plush layers of feathers and wool, with a strip of bear fur especially for my feet. Yeah, I slept like a baby in heaven.
Outside, the sky cracks open to let the sun out from between the clouds. Judging by the light, it’s still morning.
Before I can reach for my phone on the nightstand, I move my feet instead. Slowly, in circular motions. There is still some discomfort, but most of the pain has subsided. I’m reserving judgment till I touch the floor, however.
Birds sing in the trees nearby. I can’t figure out what birds, but their trills are sweet and high and delightfully energetic. I could get used to this kind of simple-yet-loving comfort of a home well made. After all, that’s what this cabin is. Someone’s home, built with patience, hard labor, and love.
“Mhm…” I clear my throat and check the time. Plenty of missed calls, and my voicemail is full. There’s also a text from my office secretary, telling me not to worry about the plethora of voicemails; all clients and colleagues have been advised that I’m out for the week.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I sit up and throw my legs onto the side of the bed. “This is it. Moment of truth.”
Wiggling my toes first, I inhale deeply and set my feet down. “Ah.”
It still hurts, but nowhere near as bad as yesterday. I can stand on it for more than half a second. Heck, I can even walk—or limp but in a less worrying fashion. I might even make it off this mountain on my own, if I’m careful.
My stomach tightens a little. Part of me doesn’t want to leave. I mean, I’d like nothing more than to continue my hike, but I’m in no condition for any mountain trails today. Probably not tomorrow, either, so the only other reasonable choice is for me to go back into Dickinson and maybe check into a motel there, get a taste of the local cuisine, and give the park another try in a couple of days with a tourist group or something.
Or, as the devil on my shoulder keeps insisting, I should maybe make my limp look worse and see if Daley will keep me around for longer. Lord knows I have yet to be bored with those penetrating gray eyes and his imposing physique. I think I might have even dreamed about him in steamier circumstances.
My cheeks burn red as I realize that I am absolutely crushing on the mountain man. I do have reasons, though. He has been nothing but kind and courteous, and welcoming.
I smell coffee. Freshly brewed coffee, with just a hint of smoke and cinnamon. My mouth is watering already.
I change into new hiking clothes—it’s the only style one takes when hiking, obviously, and carefully make my way downstairs and into the kitchen.
I find a ceramic mug filled with hot, steaming coffee on the custom-built wooden table. It’s neatly positioned next to a small porcelain jug of milk, a sugar bowl, and a tin plate loaded with tiny cheese breads, golden-crisp and definitely fresh out of the oven.
The entire kitchen smells amazing, and I quickly trace the scent of cinnamon to a pie that’s waiting to cool down on the windowsill. I feel as though I’m living in a woodland fairy tale of sorts, and it’s amazing.
The cheese bites are insanely good. I scarf down six of them and pour myself a glass of water, washing it all down before I divert my attention to the coffee. Mug in hand, I go out onto the back porch, where Daley waits, melting under a blanket in one of the rattan armchairs. He gives me a broad and lazy smile.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he says.
My temperature spikes, an instant reminder of how intense the guy really is. I wonder if he’s aware.
“Good morning,” I reply.
He slips an arm out from under the blanket and pats the seat next to him. “Join me. The sun’s about to come up over the ridge there.”
I follow his finger pointing to the east, just beyond the clearing. Above the trees, far away, a mountain ridge rises, a giant’s back made of stone and partially covered in pines and snow. It’s high up, where it’s almost always cold and white. Beyond, the sky glows yellow as the sun rises in its cosmic glory.
I’m breathless, sinking into the rattan seat next to him and setting my coffee on the table next to us. Daley offers me half his blanket, and we share it, staring in silence at what I can only describe as an arresting moment in time, a sunrise like nothing else I’ve ever seen before. My heart swells, my lips stretch lazily as I realize that Daley sees this almost every day. The sun salutes him almost every morning. The clouds from earlier have scattered away, and the sky becomes bluer with every minute that passes.
“Wow,” I manage as the light bathes the entire clearing in a soft, golden glow. Green meets amber on the forest floor, with shades of maple red and brown stretching and making autumn’s presence felt along with dew droplets glistening almost everywhere. The birds keep singing, sweet echoes dancing between the trees. “This is amazing!”
“I’d say it’s not always like this, but most of the time, it absolutely is.” He glances my way, watching as I take a long sip from my big mug. “How’s the coffee?”
“It’s perfect. Everything about this place is just… perfect,” I say. “It pains me that I have to leave it behind.”
“Your leg?”
“Much better, thank you, but still not good enough for a hike. I guess I’m just going to go down to Dickinson and hang around there for a while. I was thinking I might join one of the tourist groups they take into the park. That’s low impact stuff. I could do that Wednesday or Thursday, assuming this ankle continues with its quick recovery. By the way, that pomade… What are the odds that I might get my hands on the recipe?”
He shoots me a cool grin. “It’s a closely guarded family secret. I wouldn’t offer it to just anyone.”
“Okay. Name your price.” I giggle.
“Well, you can start by sticking around for a couple more days. I sure as hell don’t mind the company.”
Felix meows from underneath my chair and pulls himself out, stretching and purring before he jumps into my lap and forms a furry pretzel on my half of the blanket.
“The cats have already taken a liking to you,” Daley concludes as Spark appears out of nowhere and joins his brother.
I have a few pounds’ worth of soft cats now warming me up in addition to the surprisingly fine wool of Daley’s blanket. It feels so good. I’m almost too relaxed to even notice what he just said.
“Wait, you want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him for a while
, trying to figure out his angle. Not that I’d mind staying, but… it’s not every day that a complete stranger insists on having you over when he could just drive you back into town with that pickup truck he’s got at the end of the forest path out front.
“Why?” I ask. “I mean, I don’t want to be a nuisance. Surely, you have your life here… stuff to do?”
Daley thinks about it, gazing out in the distance. I see he takes his time, trying to choose his words carefully. Only now do I realize he’s actually… anxious. Restless beneath the blanket. Biting his lower lip.
“I have a favor to ask,” he finally says. “It’s gonna sound weird, but if you bear with me, I promise it will make sense.”
“Okay…” I have no idea what to expect.
“I need you to pretend you’re my wife for the rest of this week.”
That, I did not expect.
Chapter 9
Michelle
“Sorry? I think I might have misheard you.”
“No, no, you heard right. I’ve got some land issues. Legal issues. There’s a rich bastard down in Dickinson who’s determined to take my land away from me. This cabin. This little slice of mountain that’s been in my family for generations.”
“Daley—”
“It’s a local law. They call it the Bachelor Amendment. Article 492 of 1889. State law, to be specific. It says that if I’m still single at thirty, the state can take my land away from me, and this guy has an army of lawyers and buddies throughout the government. They’re ready to kick me out of here.”
The more he talks, the less I am able to find the right words to respond. All I can do is listen as he tells me about previous attempts to buy his land, his repeated refusals and his determination to keep this place. He tells me about lawyers harassing him and even local goons trying to scare him off the mountain.
“Though that ended poorly for them,” he says. “Simeon Cline is a persistent son of a—”
“Wait, Simeon Cline?”
He pauses and blinks with confusion. “You made that sound like you know him.”
“I met him in Dickinson on my way here. Folks in town don’t seem to like him much.”
Daley nods. “For good reason. He just muscles people into selling. He’s been doing it for years, and now he’s got too much land to sell for a profit. He’s got no choice but to go ahead with his big plans of mountain resorts and whatnot. He can do whatever he wants, as far as I’m concerned, just not on my land.”
He goes on to tell me about his last encounter with Marvin Sykes, whose name I am suddenly tempted to look up in the North Dakota Bar Association, just to see what clients he usually picks up, because judging by the aggressive tactics, Daley wouldn’t be the first guy they’ve tried to push out.
“And the Bachelor Amendment?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around this whole issue.
“It’s an obscure law that they somehow picked up. No one thought to repeal it, and now they’re trying to use it against me. I’m not married. I told Sykes I was, though. Told him my wife was out of town when he was last here…”
He gives me this bashful, awkward look, lips almost pouting and begging to be kissed—snap out of it, Michelle!
He continues as I try to focus on what he’s saying. “Which is where you… come in.”
“Wow, talk about a lucky coincidence, huh?”
“I did say the universe was smiling down upon me,” he replies, holding back a smirk.
Normally, I would agree, but I can’t make much sense of my own reaction to what he’s asking of me. “So, since I’m here, basically, one bum leg and owing you one hell of a favor, anyway, you want me to pretend we’re married? Is that why you’ve been so hospitable?”
“Oh, no, I would’ve welcomed you, Michelle,” he says, shaking his head. “I would never turn an injured woman away.”
And now, the awkward silence follows as we both sit under the same blanket but in different chairs. Jax watches us from the woods across the clearing, while Felix and Spark rumble while curled up in my lap, the smell of coffee filling my nostrils as I try to figure out what to say next.
“Maybe I should’ve asked this first, but what is your general opinion of marriage?” Daley decides to try another angle, assuming that he has yet to convince me.
I’m not sure where I stand on this, but I do feel the hot pang of fury when I imagine the likes of Cline using legal loopholes to deprive this gorgeous and kind man of his own land.
“I have no intention of marrying anytime soon,” I tell him. “And while I respect the institution, myself coming from a big and happy family… I just don’t think it’s something I might seriously consider.”
“So, would you be offended by my proposal? I only need you to be here and confirm we’ve been married for a short while or something… just so I can get rid of Cline and his lawyers. That’s it.” He takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat so he can turn to properly look at me before continuing.
“I have nowhere else to go and no other option left, at this point. And you showing up the way you did… Michelle, maybe you don’t believe in fate, but I do think that chaos somehow brought our paths together. I’ve never wronged anyone, and I never would. I just wanna live here, on my mountain, and be left alone.”
I am speechless, but not hesitant.
I know my answer, but I must now find a way to share it with Daley. It’s kind of hard when my heart keeps skipping beats, his cologne sneaking its way into my senses and throwing me for a loop.
“You need a wife for the week,” I try to get myself started here. The angel on my shoulder is plucking her pristine feathers out, while the devil cackles. This side of me has always been around. It just needed a reason to come out. “That’s what you’re trying to tell me. You need me to stick around till Sunday, and when Cline and his lawyer come back, I’m supposed to shake their hands and say I’m your lawfully wedded wife.”
“Yes. In a nutshell. Of course, only in words. I wouldn’t dare be untoward,” he says.
I wouldn’t mind that, but hey… baby steps. “You’re a gentleman through and through. That much is obvious.”
“It’s not something I ask lightly. I don’t like to admit it, but I’ve made myself vulnerable with this proposition.”
That… I believe. There’s a tremor of hesitation in his gray gaze. The shadow of doubt persisting among those sterling clouds. But I see the pain, too, the agony that comes with the idea of losing his home… all because of that Cline dude and his stupid mountain resort.
“You know, Cline did boast about that project of his when we talked. I found his idea of glamorous barbecues to be remarkably idiotic,” I say.
Daley almost smiles, and I decide to take this insane leap of faith. Most of my adventures consist of hiking in new places, and that whole bear debacle certainly qualifies—this thing, however, is a whole new kind of excitement. I have to admit… I’m intrigued. I want to see where this leads. Most importantly…
“We can’t let Cline kick you off your own land. Screw his luxury sauna crap.”
Daley lights up like a Christmas tree. “You’ll do it?”
“And you’ll get the added bonus of legal advice, too. We’ll figure out a way to get the Bachelor Amendment out of your hair.”
“I’ll happily provide financial remuneration for that.”
“Meh. Let’s see if I manage to do something, first.” I exhale sharply, realizing the rush of adrenaline that just came with my acceptance. I’m almost giddy. “I’m staying here till Sunday, then.”
He gets up and kneels before me. It’s enough to send my breath racing. “There’s gotta be a way for me to thank you for this. Michelle, I want you to think about it and tell me. I’m serious. Whatever you want, whatever I might be able to give, you’ve got it.”
I grin. “Let’s knock Cline off the game board, first.”
“I’ll even marry you for real, if you want,” he says.
He chuckles, and within seconds
we’re both laughing at how crazy and funny that is… Yet the devil on my shoulder can’t help but wonder. What would that be like? The angel asks the obvious question of why would I do that, to begin with, but both the devil and I agree it’s time for the angel to go away for a little while.
“I think my greatest satisfaction will be to see Cline’s face when he realizes he’s screwed,” I say, smiling devilishly as I try to steer myself away from an intriguing mental image of being carried over the threshold by Daley. “It’s bad enough that people like him get tax breaks and better treatment simply because of their gargantuan wealth, but then to try and throw you out of your own home like this… it’s despicable. I cannot, in good conscience, walk away from this now.”
“You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Buckle up, then. You’re in charge of my meals and entertainment, Mr. Fontaine.”
His lips part, ever so slowly, and my throat becomes dry. “It’ll be my absolute pleasure, Mrs. Fontaine.”
Chapter 10
Daley
“You have to get married,” Sheriff Dunn tells us.
I asked her to come over to do some planning in advance of Cline and Sykes’s next visit. I promised them a wife, but we must proceed with caution so as not to get caught in a lie. That’ll make matters worse, especially if they bring the county judge in.
Michelle sucks in a breath, and I completely understand.
She might as well run off now, and I won’t blame her.
“You mean legally. Legally married. With a certificate and everything,” Michelle says.
“Exactly. I can get the papers filed today with town hall,” Lauren replies, giving her a broad smile. “You’re doing an incredible thing here. Personally, I’m amazed.”
“And you’re married,” Michelle points to the wedding band. “Otherwise, I’m guessing you would’ve beat me to it.”
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