A Bride For The Mountain Man

Alarico—Rico—Lucio worked as a mechanic, but he had big dreams and, she believed, the will to fulfill them. He drew her into his world quickly, so fast her head spun. He came from a large and boisterous family that had made Meredith feel at home the second she met them. They accepted her without question, as one of their own, simply because she was Rico’s girlfriend.

And with love, everything changed. For the first time in Meredith’s life, she had something to fight for. A future she wanted with a man she adored. She hoped that given enough time, her parents would come around and embrace her relationship with Rico, just as his family had.

There was a short period where she believed they tried and that they wanted her to be happy. Rico saw it differently, though, and he worried that eventually, their relationship would cause irreparable harm between her and her parents. He refused to separate Meredith from her family, and he refused to be viewed as a second-class citizen. Two strikes, not three.

But they were brutal strikes.

He ended their relationship, swearing that he would love her forever, and that someday, he would return to her as a man her family would respect and honor. His words were heartfelt, his voice sincere...his decision final.

The best year of her life ended in her greatest heartbreak. She blamed her parents and their unrealistic ideals of perfection for pushing Rico away. She blamed her brothers for their choice in “acceptable” mates, and she blamed the universe.

She missed Rico. Her heart ached for him, but she respected his decision and did not try to contact him. There was some pride there, as well. She’d hoped he’d miss her as much as she missed him, give up on his insistence to wait and come to her. He did not.

After graduation, she found some backbone and instead of going to work for her father as had been the original plan, landed the stager position with little trouble. Surprising, really, since she had a degree in business, but oh, had she been happy. The job paid more than the going rate, which pleased her, and she found a small but nice apartment to live in.

For the next handful of years, she’d worked hard to create a life that she believed was of her own making. She’d been happy, except for missing Rico. She never stopped hoping that one day he would reach whatever level of success he needed and come back to her as he’d promised.

She had waited for him, day in and day out, for...years. Her heart held hostage, her hopes in limbo. And all for nothing. Absolutely nothing. None of it was real.

As it turned out, her job wasn’t real, either. Well, the work was, she supposed, but she hadn’t gotten the job on her own accord. The great and mighty Arthur Jensen had paved the way and was even “helping” with Meredith’s salary. Tidbits of information that a tipsy coworker with loose lips had accidentally slipped at a company get-together less than three weeks ago.

She hadn’t aced the job interview to win the job. She hadn’t earned her bonuses over the years. All she was, all she’d ever been, was the privileged daughter of a successful man who had the leverage and the will to pull the right strings at the right time.

The second she confirmed the information was true, she quit her job. Then, humiliated and angry, resentful, too, she confronted her father. Initially, he’d tried to pacify her, but as their argument grew more heated, he called her “soft and sheltered” and stated that if he hadn’t stepped in, she wouldn’t have survived a year.

In a burst of emotion, she told her father that she was tired of living a life that he deemed appropriate and that due to him, she’d lost Rico. The best man she’d ever known. That it was his fault. Because her father had been blind to her happiness, because all he saw was a man with a blue-collar job who came from a blue-collar family, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing, to have to introduce Rico—a mechanic—as his daughter’s boyfriend? Or worse, as his son-in-law?

Her father wasn’t a warm and cuddly man, but he wasn’t a cruel man, either. No, Arthur Jensen was a decisive man. He formed decisions quickly, based on all available information combined with a high-functioning intuition, and he rarely backed down. Meredith’s words, along with her emotional state, must have hit a nerve. After years of staying silent, her father told her the truth about the man she claimed to love.

Rather than accepting an entry-level position at one of Arthur’s companies—which Meredith hadn’t known was even offered at the time—Rico turned the tables. He promised he would walk out of Meredith’s life, never to return, for the sum of $50,000. Otherwise, he would marry her and within a year, she’d have one child and be pregnant with another.

Disgusted with Rico but seeing the man spoke the truth, her father paid the money, and Rico did exactly as he’d promised. Broke off their relationship and disappeared.

Her father had proof in his safe—the cashed check and a signed statement from Rico—but Meredith did not require that confirmation. Her father wouldn’t lie about something so terrible. Her heart had cracked in agony again as she realized all the emotion, time and energy she’d wasted on Alarico and her ridiculous dreams for the future.

The only love she’d ever known had been false. The job she’d worked hard at for years, had believed she’d earned on her own merits, ranked as another false belief. On their own, these two were enough to swing the pendulum, but when she considered how often she’d followed her parents’ wishes over her own, she was...done. Done being the privileged daughter of a successful man. Done living her life by someone else’s set of expectations and rules.

More arguing ensued before she got what she wanted: zero interference. She also got what she hadn’t asked for in the way of zero contact with her family. For a period of one year. She hadn’t expected that stipulation, and it hurt, but she held her chin high and agreed.

It was time—more than time—to build a life she could trust in.

The following seven days were a mix of self-recrimination, doubts and insecurities as she attempted to pull herself out of the muck and consider her options for the future. That was when she contacted Rachel, a close friend who had grown up in the same affluent world as Meredith. Of all her friends, Rachel was the only one who was sure to understand the importance of Meredith’s decision. And why she absolutely had to succeed.

It was decided that Meredith would use some of her savings to spend a few weeks vising Rachel in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. In addition to rest and relaxation and letting her brewing emotions settle, the reprieve would offer the opportunity to come up with an achievable plan. Where to live? Where to work? What dreams to chase?

To think she’d put so much energy into proving that she could make it on her own. An idealistic notion that, while important in a lot of ways, felt ridiculous and meaningless now that her life hung in the balance. This was the only fight that mattered. Survival.

And it was all on her.

Her thoughts ended when her knees buckled against the strong wind for a second time. She managed to stay standing, but it was by the skin of her teeth. Still no sign of that light, and she knew—in the way a person knows—that she did not have much left in her.

Lord. She was really going to die out here. Alone.

Why bother trying for another step, let alone ten, when her body, heart and brain all knew the truth? She wouldn’t find that light. She wouldn’t reach safety. She didn’t know how long it would take, but yes, death was pounding on her door. Soon, not much longer, she guessed, he’d kick down the door and that would be that. And she would take her last breath. Have her last thought. Perhaps, if she had the strength, she’d cry her last tear.

So why bother? Why not just drop to the ground and...no. No!

She wasn’t about to give up until she was left with no other choice. And no matter how close that moment might be, she wasn’t there yet. She’d fight for as long as she could. Simple as that.

“Help me,” she whispered the prayer. “Send an angel to guide me. Please?”

A sound other than the howling wind made it to her ears. What was that? She stopped, listened harder and heard the sharp, abrupt noise again and then again. It sounded like barking.

A dog? Yes. Had to be a dog.

More barking, and it seemed to be growing closer. Where there was a dog, there was probably a human. An actual person! Meredith turned in a circle, trying to gauge which direction the sounds were coming from. Close, she thought, but...where?

Oh, God, show me where.

“Help!” she called out, hoping her voice would cut through the storm as cleanly as the dog’s continuous series of barks. “Help me, please! I’m—”

Through the darkness a dog emerged, followed by another, both barking and moving far swifter than she would’ve thought possible. And then, they were at her side. Two dogs, not one. They were covered in snow, whining now instead of barking, and one started nipping at her ankles while the other mouthed her sock-covered hand and tugged.

“Hello?” she yelled. “Your dogs are with me! Hello?”

No response other than the dogs, who were still whining and nipping and tugging. Were they out here alone? She hollered into the wind again and waited, watched to see if anyone would answer or a human figure would emerge from the same direction the dogs had.

And...no.

Okay. Okay. Her salvation wasn’t right around the corner. The dogs had probably gotten loose and were trying to find their own way back home. She could barely keep herself standing. What was she to do with two dogs who were likely just as lost as she was?

Still. They were company. She was no longer alone.

“Hey, guys,” she said, her voice weak. “I’m happy to see you, but I’m afraid I’m not going to be of much help. I have no idea where I am or where you two came from.”

The dog that was nipping at her heels stopped for a second to growl. Softly, not menacingly, and then returned to gently prodding at her heels. The dog who had her hand tugged harder and whined plaintively. As if to say, “Come on! Pay attention to what we’re doing! Don’t just stand there. Get moving! Lead us to safety, why don’t you?”

“I don’t know where safety is,” she said. Tears flooded her eyes. “I wish I did.”

Dropping her hand, the dog barked and ran ahead a few feet. Faced her and barked again. The other dog barked, too, and then shoved its head against the back of her legs, toward dog number one.

She stumbled from the pressure, almost fell, but the pooch pushed to her side and she grabbed onto its fur for stability and managed to keep herself standing.

Her numb brain clicked into gear. Were they trying to get her to move? Were they trying to lead her to safety? That was how it seemed, and because she needed something to believe in, to propel her into action, she chose to accept that these dogs were her saviors and all she had to do was follow them. Trust in them to get her out of this mess.

So she did.

Once the dogs saw she was walking, one stayed at her side while the other would run up a few feet, stop and bark until she made her way to that position. Over and over, this pattern was repeated. She almost fell a few times, but by the grace of God and the dog beneath her hand, she didn’t. The storm wailed on, the cold grew even more bitter, and she knew that if not for these dogs—angels, they were angels—she wouldn’t have made it this long.