Rock Hard Mountain Man: A Billionaire and a Virgin Romance

by Rye Hart

  Like always, the girls and Jacob were waiting at the bottom of the hill. Adore and Faith were five years old now and growing every day. They’d only just begun attending classes, but that were sharp as tacks and picking everything up faster than their peers. I couldn’t help but be proud of my little geniuses.

  The girls were munching on candy and Jacob stood between them, a hand on each shoulder. He smiled a little and caught my eye. Jacob had been a hard man once. He’d rarely smiled and saw emotions as a weakness. He’d always been about business and making the best deal. Now that his daughters were in the picture, he’d softened quite a bit and had a tendency to smile more often and shower his family with gifts.

  “The girls thought it would be nice to come meet you and walk you home.”

  I chuckled and offered each of them a kiss on the cheek before catching Jacob’s lips for a brief kiss. “Don’t play your little games. I know it was your idea. You haven’t let me walk home since we found out I was pregnant,” I teased.

  He offered a crooked little grin and just shrugged. We tangled our fingers together, hanging onto one of the girls with each of our free hands and as we walked through the little town together I felt a swell of joy in my chest.

  “I never thought my life would turn out like this,” I admitted, turning to look at my husband.

  He raised a brow and turned to look straight ahead, clearing his throat. “Are you unhappy? Do you have regrets?”

  I smiled and shook my head. “I’m glad things got a bit out of control,” I admitted. “This isn’t a fate I would have chosen for myself and if it had been up to me, I never would have known this happiness.”

  Jacob smiled and picked Adore up with ease, still hanging onto me with his other hand. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  I smiled and looked towards the sky as my mother’s words echoed in my mind.

  ‘Always trust in God’s plan.’

  The End

  Corine

  Chapter One

  My name is Corine and my life hasn’t always been this difficult, but the last few years have really thrown me for a loop. I was a small town girl and I had planned on staying on my parent’s farm until I married a local boy that my parents would pick for me. I didn’t have much of a choice when it came to my future; mot many women did in 1886. We were just along for the ride.

  It was heart-breaking to consider the fact that my life wasn’t really my own. But as much as it tore me up inside, I tried not to dwell. The only way I was going to be happy was if I accepted my fate without a fight. It was enough for me to marry a man with farm land and to have a few children. I knew the world was bigger, but I was content to stay in Georgia.

  Maybe my resignation came from ignorance. I didn’t know what was beyond the boundaries of my small town, so it didn’t interest me. I would occasionally find a pamphlet or book that talked about the big cities like Chicago and New York. They were bustling with activity and many of the women in Beaumont had left their families to travel to the cities in search of more exciting lives.

  At first, it didn’t seem to matter that a few of the girls were leaving, but then it became difficult to find a family who was still intact. The men traveled west and the women traveled north. Families were split and fractured. Our once happy city was falling into a state of distress.

  Soon there weren’t enough women to marry the men, and there weren’t enough men to run the farms. The land around my home began to wither and die. It was disheartening to watch everything I’d ever known slowly fade into nothing. I’d cried so many nights over what I knew was going to happen. Soon enough our little town wouldn’t be able to sustain itself and we would be forced to move somewhere else.

  I could see the fear and uncertainty in my parents’ eyes as well, and this was cause for great alarm. We’d weathered hard times before, but nothing like this. I tried to trust that my father would know what to do so we could survive, but I could tell that even he faltered.

  Our fears were realized soon enough and before long, we were leaving our family home behind in order to find work in one of the bigger cities. My father knew everyone was going to New York so he opted for Chicago, thinking there would be more opportunities for our family there.

  When we arrived, we were met with the smell of strange machines we’d never seen before. The sounds were overwhelming and the sheer amount of people was terrifying. We didn’t know what to do so we just held onto each other and tried to make the best of the situation.

  We moved into a small flat that was above a general store. The man charged us money every month which was a rather strange concept to us. We’d never really heard of rent before. Our homes had been built by and were passed down from family members.. Sometimes neighbors would build houses on new plots of land, but houses were rarely let out of family hands.

  At first, it was just father who went out in search of a job. He was a farmer by trade and hadn’t really learned to do much else. In rural Georgia there wasn’t much of a need for another occupation. He knew a little bit about construction and eventually managed to get a job with a contracting company, though it didn’t last long. He was older and couldn’t move as fast as the company wanted him to.

  The stress eventually became too much for my parents and they got sick thanks to the awful smog that filled the air. It weakened their bodies and soon enough they passed on and I was left young and alone.

  No one was interested in marrying me. They saw me as a bumpkin from the fields of Georgia and wanted nothing to do with me. The men in Chicago were looking for women who had no morals. ‘Modern’ women who didn’t mind breaking the contracts of marriage. They wanted women who would go to work for them and share their beds at night. I refused to do either of those things. I’d already given up so much of my heritage and I just wasn’t ready to give up my beliefs too.

  I decided to leave the crowded city and head out west where things were quiet and more like home. I was too scared to go back to Georgia, knowing that no matter where I went in the south, things were changing like they were in Beaumont. I didn’t have the heart to face it.

  I’d heard a few of the women talking about mail order brides. You answered an ad and went out west where a husband was waiting for you. It seemed like my only way out, so I did exactly that. I answered an ad and took the money my future husband sent and used it to join a caravan.

  Traveling through the nothingness of the expanding territories was torture. It would get very cold very quickly and danger seemed to be lurking around every corner. There were Indians everywhere, their eyes watching us through brush.

  I’d never dealt with these people before, but their watchful eyes scared me. I would spend most of my days and nights huddled in one of the wagons, trying to avoid being seen. I would learn soon enough, that it wouldn’t protect me. The thin canvas wasn’t enough to keep me hidden from the watchful eyes of the Indians.

  Our camp was raided one night, and everyone but me was killed in their sleep, slaughtered without a second thought. For some reason when the savages pulled back the flap of the wagon I was in and found me cowering in the corner, they decided to show me mercy, though I use that word loosely.

  I was bound by the wrists and ankles and put on a horse that carried me away into the night, unsure of what they intended on doing with me.

  Chapter Two

  I’m not sure how many days have passed since I’ve been captured. I spend my days and nights in a single teepee with a guard. I’ve managed to learn a few words in the Indian’s native tongue, but not enough to communicate with them beyond telling them I’m thirsty or need to relieve myself.

  It’s strange to me how normal their life seems. What little I knew about these people came from stories told by travelers. I wouldn’t have considered them kind, considering the fact that they slaughtered my entire traveling company, but they were just like us. There were children in the camp that ran around and played with the wild dogs, and there were mothers and fathers
who sat around, cooking and laughing. Their lives were very similar to the rest of us; their ways weren’t completely alien.

  The guards switched on and off and there didn’t seem to be a designated person who was tasked with watching me. The entire tribe seemed to be taking turns, rotating and keeping an eye on me. Sometimes it was older teenagers, and sometimes women. None of them were very worried about me escaping or causing any trouble. I was weak and tired, and I didn’t have it in me to fight my way out.

  I winced and brought a hand up to my neck where a damp cloth had been placed. During my first days here, an older man with ornate head pieces carved an intricate design into the side of my neck. He’d used a bone that had been shaped into a needle and dipped it in colored water. It was a thick ink that burrowed into my skin.

  I’d screamed aloud for the first few pricks but then my skin became almost numb to the sensation. I just stared across the vast plains as this man marked me. Each time he pressed the needle into me, I became acutely aware that no man would want a wife who had been marked by Indians.

  It was part of the reason I hadn’t tried to escape. I felt as if my life in the normal world was over. I’d heard of people who’d been captured by Indian’s trying to integrate themselves back into society. No one trusted them. They assumed that the person had gone rogue and was now working with the Indians. There was no sense of forgiveness and nobody cared about these people. They were all but tossed to the wolves and left to live out their days alone. It was more than a little upsetting and I didn’t want to go back to a world like that. At least here, I was fed and warm.

  I curled up a little, drawing my knees to my chest as the woman who sat across from me watched me with a steady gaze. She had just changed the animal skin bandage that was resting against the strange scar the elderly man had marked me with.

  Her eyes were dark and intense, though she seemed more curious than ready to hurt me. With the exception if the initial scare of my capture, no one here seemed to harbor any ill intent toward me.. It was rather strange, since I had been sure that I was going to be killed as soon as I was brought to their camp.

  The flap of the tent flew open and a man stepped in, looking down at the woman who sat cross legged near the center of the teepee. They spoke to each other in a soft, melodic language I couldn’t even begin to understand. Though I didn’t understand the words that were being said, I got the sense that they were arguing about something.

  The man grunted and waved his and the woman crossed her arms, as if defying him. After a moment the man seemed to grow angry and his hand flew out. I’d half expected him to grab her, but instead his fingers wrapped around my wrist as he yanked me to my feet, pulling me out of the teepee.

  I gasped but had no choice but to follow the man as he was tugging me against him. I screamed and tried to scramble back towards the tent where the woman was yelling and following him. She looked as if she were trying convince him not to take me wherever I was going, but I couldn’t be sure.

  We came to the center of the camp where a large group had gathered. The sight of all of them together staring at me made my heart drop in my belly and tears come to my eyes. This couldn’t be good. They were all gathered around, excitedly pointing and chattering to one another. It was as if they were waiting to see some sort of strange spectacle, and I was pretty sure I was that spectacle.

  A long row of flaming coals had been set out in the dirt and as the started edging me forward, I realized what they wanted me to do. They wanted to see if I could walk on fire. My heart nearly stopped and I screamed, digging my heels into the ground in an attempt to make it more difficult for them to move me.

  “NO! NO NO!” I screamed, my eyes filling with tears.

  The tribe didn’t seem to care that I was screaming in sheer terror, though a few of the mother’s turned their children away. I could feel my heart pounding and I was afraid, for a moment, that it might beat out of my chest. I looked to the sky as the tears poured down my face and silently prayed that the Lord would take me before I had to endure too much. . I had a feeling that this walk would be the beginning of a long and painful road that had no end.

  Just as my toes started to touch the embers, I heard the loud pop of a gunshot and my eyes flew open. I turned my head just in time to see men riding through the camp in uniforms.

  Chapter Three

  My eyes were wide and wet with tears. I was terrified, not knowing what would happen next. The men rode through the camp, their clothes dirty and stained from days on the trail. The sudden appearance of them had caused the tribe to scatter, and no one seemed to be concerned with me, which I was rather thankful for.

  My wrists were still bound, though my feet had been freed in order to allow me to walk on the coals. I swung around and ran toward the woods on the far side of the camp. It was dark and cold out, but the woods were still my best chance for escape. I wasn’t sure whether these men were here to rescue me or if they would assume I had assimilated with the tribe and kill me.

  I managed to disappear into the trees, hearing the sounds of screaming and war cries. The heavy thump of horse’s hooves echoed all around me. The trees scratched at my face and my lungs burned. Though I wasn’t accustomed to all this running, my body sensed danger and acted on impulse and need for survival.

  As I broke the tree line, I came to an empty field. I stopped for a moment and put my hands on my knees, taking in big gulps of air that I desperately needed. I closed eyes and concentrated on slowing my breath. The air felt good as it filled my lungs.

  After a moment I stood up and looked around, trying to get some sort of plan together. I knew that I couldn’t stay out here long. Either the raiders would find me or the Indians would. I needed to find shelter. There were more trees on the other side of the clearing and as much as I liked being in the field of flowers, I knew it made me an easy target.

  I trudged through the wet ground, thinking about the times I’d gone hunting with my dad. The goal had always been to chase the deer into a clearing so that they would be easier to take down. It occurred to me, in this moment, that I was a deer. I was prey and the hunters were hot on my heels. The thought made my breath quicken as I started jogging towards the trees.

  A feeling of relief washed over me as I neared the tree line, but it was quickly replaced with terror as I heard the thundering sound of hooves on soft earth, digging into the dirt and pulling it up.

  I didn’t even bother looking behind me. It didn’t matter who was on the horse, all that mattered was that he was coming after me. The trees were only a few feet away and I knew if I could get in the brush, the horse wouldn’t be able to follow me. There was a flicker of hope in my belly, but just as the trees started to scratch at my face, I felt a hand wrap around my waist and lift me off my feet.

  I was filled with a cold dread, sure that these would be my last moments on this earth. I just prayed that they wouldn’t be painful. The choked sob that escaped my lips couldn’t be helped. I dropped my head and shook it back and forth.

  “Please, just make it quick,” I begged. I was so tired of suffering.

  “Make it quick? What are you talking about?” The voice was gruff and masculine, but it wasn’t cruel.

  My head snapped up and I looked up at the soldier who had a hand rolled cigarette stuffed between his lips. One brow was cocked as he looked down at me, taking me in.

  “What are you cryin’ about? We’re here to save you, darlin’,” he drawled.

  Save me? It was hard for me to believe him, but God I wanted to. “Who are you?”

  He chuckled and tossed the cigarette into the moist ground and I watched the smoke steam around it as embers went out.

  “We’re the Cavalry.”

  “How did you know I was alive?”

  He shrugged and pulled me up to sit on the horse. I wobbled a little, tired and dizzy from running and dehydration. It took him a moment but he finally answered my question.

  “We didn’t know you were aliv
e, we were kind of just hoping. Me and my men patrol the area around Boulder, Colorado and when we find a wagon train that’s been ripped to shreds we assume that at least one person was taken. The Indians will typically take a woman. We haven’t figured out why, though we can assume it’s for revenge or maybe as a bartering tool. ” He lifted his hat and scratched his head. “At any rate, we’re glad to find you alive and unhar-“

  He hesitated and glanced at my neck, reaching for the animal hide and pulling it back to inspect the marking on my neck. He sighed and shook his head, pressing the hide against the wound again.

  “Savages,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around me.

  I wasn’t even concerned with the fact that he’d seen the mark on my neck. I was safe. I sniffled a little and leaned into his strong frame, enjoying the warmth he provided.

  “Are you going to take me away from here?”

  “Of course, darlin’. We would leave you out in the woods to starve.”

  My eyes fluttered closed and relief flooded every inch of my body. For the first time in months, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

  “What’s your name?” I whispered

  “Rick,” he stated simply.

  Chapter Four

  We eventually joined up with the rest of the ‘Cavalry’, though it was more of a militia. Thirty to forty men sat atop horses, wearing makeshift uniforms with guns strapped to their backs. As we rode through what was left of the Indian village Rick covered my eyes with a free hand. He didn’t want me to see the devastation.

  As angry and scared as I had been, I didn’t want to see the bodies that we were leaving behind. It was a necessary evil. I knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. I was thankful for the man who seemed to be on a mission to protect me.