Wifed By The Mountain Man: A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

mom for Hope—and maybe an occasional fuck-buddy—but I don’t need a wife telling me what to do or how to be, or asking anything of me.
    I’m my own man, living on my own terms, and I’m smart enough to see that a real wife would fuck that up.
    She follows me, in those ridiculous heels, and I smile to myself, knowing Lottie is going to look this girl up and down and predict she’ll be gone by the end of the week.
    I grab Amelia’s suitcases from the back and walk to the front steps. From inside, I can hear Hope wailing like a banshee, and I take a deep breath, debating whether I should say something before I open the door.
    “What is that? Is it ... crying?” Amelia asks, her face showing concern. Okay, I can work with that; maybe she’ll be the sympathetic type.
    But before I can explain my daughter, Lottie opens the door, with a crying Hope in her arms.
    Hope’s in a diaper, she has teething biscuit slobber all across her face and belly, and her cheeks are streaked in tears.
    “Shit, Lottie, what happened?” I ask, dropping the suitcases and grabbing Hope.
    I step inside and the women follow me as Lottie begins to explain. “She was napping like you said she’d be, but when she woke up she just got so upset, and I thought she was hungry, but I didn’t know how to use your microwave so I couldn’t heat up a bottle. And then I saw these crackers, but what a mess that turned into. And she hates the high chair, so then I carried her and....”
    “It’s fine, Lottie—but just so you know, the bottle doesn’t need to be warmed,” I tell her. “Sorry we’re late. Thanks for everything, honest. It was real good of you.”
    “And you must be the mail order bride?” Lottie asks Amelia, looking her up and down appraisingly. I try to see Amelia the way a seventy-year-old woman, born and raised in the woods, would see her. “I’ll be darned, just look at you.”
    “I’m Amelia.” She reaches to shake Lottie’s hand. “Good to meet you.”
    “Well, lah-tee-dah, sugar.” Lottie takes the proffered hand, shaking her head. “You ever stepped out of a city? Even own a pair of boots?”
    Amelia frowns, looking down at herself.
    “We’ve got it from here, Lottie. Amelia’s had a long day.”
    Lottie doesn’t ease up, “Well, she’ll be up all night, with that baby in the house.”
    Amelia’s eyes widen, realizing what’s going on. Her eyes dart around the great room, taking in the Pack ’n Play, the swing, and Jumperoo. There’s a car seat in the corner of the foyer, and bottles drying next to the sink.
    Lottie, sensing that Amelia isn’t quite clued in, laughs, patting her back.
    “You’ll be fine—and if not, you can go back to where you came from.”
    “Lottie,” I warn, “play nice.”
    “I’m not the one playing house,” she says smartly. “But okay, okay, I’ll be nice.” She leans over and kisses Hope’s cheeks, which only makes Hope cry louder.
    “You okay driving home?” I ask her.
    “I’m perfectly fine driving home. And don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair for the week, and let your little family acclimate, Reed.” She pauses at the front door, as if contemplating another dig. Thankfully, instead she just waves good-bye to a dazed Amelia, a hysterical Hope, and me.
    And here I am, left in a house with two more females than I ever planned on living with.

Chapter Six
    Amelia
    M y jaw is on the floor. And with reason.
    He has a freaking baby?
    I mean, I understand that part of the appeal of the whole mail order bride thing is that some details can be left out of the proposition. I mean, we didn’t even know what our new spouses were going to look like, or where we were moving, or what our day-to-day life would entail.
    But, um … Monique omitting the fact that Reed has a freaking child seems a bit extreme.
    I mean, hello? I’m twenty-two and have my entire life ahead of me, and never once did I ever, ever, ever expect to move to Alaska and have a baby the summer