Chapter Five
Sadie
I refuse to let a grumpy mountain man and his stubborn silence ruin my fresh start.
Sure, Reid Calloway might act like he regrets ever agreeing to this arrangement, but I signed up to be a mail-order bride with full knowledge that it wasn’t going to be some fairytale romance. If I’m going to be here for the foreseeable future, then I might as well make the most of it.
This is exactly why on my second day here, after breakfast, I roll up my sleeves and get to work.
The cabin is solid and well-built, but it lacks any real warmth. Everything is wood, leather, and stone, with no personal touches to soften the edges. It’s clean, but only in the way a house is when no one really lives there.
That’s going to change.
I start small, tidying up and dusting the shelves, rearranging the collection of books in the living room, and washing the few dishes in the sink. Then, I tackle the kitchen, opening the curtains to let in more light and scrubbing the counters until they gleam.
Reid doesn’t say much while I work. He watches me with narrowed eyes like he’s waiting for me to get bored and give up. But I won’t.
When he finally mutters something about needing to work in his shop and heads outside, I take my chance to add a little flair to the place. A plaid throw blanket over the back of the couch, a few pinecones and evergreen sprigs arranged in a wooden bowl I find in a cabinet, and—my favorite touch—a row of candles along the mantel.
By the time Reid comes back inside, stomping the snow from his boots, I’m standing in the middle of the living room, hands on my hips, admiring my handiwork.
He stops short, eyes sweeping over the room. His brow furrows. “What… happened?”
I beam at him. “I made it homey.”
His mouth flattens. “It was fine before.”
I tsk, stepping closer. “Fine isn’t cozy, Reid. Fine is cold.” I gesture around us. “See? Doesn’t this feel more inviting?”
He grunts, which I think is an acknowledgment, but I can’t be sure.
I sigh. “You don’t like change, do you?”
He mutters something under his breath and stalks into the kitchen. I let him go. If I’ve learned anything in my short time with Reid Calloway, it’s that he needs time to warm up.
* * *
I thought maybe Reid would crack a smile at some point today. You know, considering we’re getting married.
But no. Not even a little one.
Instead, he stands beside me in the tiny office of the Pine Hollow Justice of the Peace like he’s about to be executed, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his scowl as deep as ever.
The judge, a kind older man named Judge Walker, clears his throat and glances between us. “You, uh, both sure about this?”
“Yup,” I chirp, gripping the bouquet I was given by the Judge’s assistant.
“Absolutely.” Reid grunts.
Judge Walker eyes him warily before continuing. “All right, then.” He flips open his book and begins reciting the vows.
I listen intently, but the entire time, I can feel Reid beside me—his warmth, his quiet strength, the tension radiating from his body like a storm about to break.
When it’s time for us to say I do, I go first, my voice bright and clear. “I do.”
All eyes land on Reid. His jaw clenches. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. For a split second, I think he might back out.
But then, finally, his gruff voice fills the tiny office. “I do.”
Relief floods me as Judge Walker grins. “Well, all right then. By the power vested in me by the great state of Montana, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
And just like that, I’m Mrs. Reid Calloway.
I turn to Reid, beaming. He stares down at me, his expression unreadable, before letting out a low sigh and muttering, “Glad that’s over.”
“Not exactly the most romantic way to start a marriage,” I tease as we step outside into the crisp afternoon air.
He doesn’t respond.
Instead, he stalks toward his truck, opening the passenger door for me before climbing into the driver’s seat.
I let out a breath and follow, climbing up into the cab. Well, this might not be the wedding I dreamed of as a little girl, but it’s still the start of something new, and I’m determined to make the best of it.
“We need to stop for some things,” I say, turning toward Reid. “The general store should have it all.”
“I have everything I need at the cabin.”
“That might be true, but I need some things. I have a list.” I give him my biggest smile, but he doesn’t say anything in return.
Reid pulls into the parking lot of the general store. I get out of the truck and spin around, trying to take everything in. Pine Hollow is exactly the kind of mountain town I pictured—small, charming, and old-timey vibe.
The moment I step into the general store, a bell chimes overhead, and all eyes land on me.
“Well, well, well,” an older woman behind the counter drawls, her bright blue eyes twinkling. “You must be Reid’s bride.”
“That’s me!” I smile, stepping up to the counter. “Sadie Winslow—er, Calloway, I guess.”
She wipes her hands on her apron before reaching out. “Dottie McClain. My husband and I run this place. And let me tell you, honey, you are a breath of fresh air.”
The other customers murmur their agreement, a few women coming closer to introduce themselves. I quickly learn that Pine Hollow runs on three things: strong coffee, strong opinions, and an even stronger sense of community.
“I have to say, we were shocked when we heard Reid had married,” Dottie continues, leaning in conspiratorially. “Man’s been holed up in that cabin for years. Thought for sure he’d turn into one of those mountain hermits.”
A younger woman named Annie sighs dramatically. “Such a waste. I mean, he’s grumpy, but he’s also hot.”
“You’re not wrong,” I agree with Annie. She looks about my age, maybe we can be friends.
The others nod in agreement.
I arch a brow. “So you all like Reid?”
Dottie scoffs. “Of course we like him. The man might be as cuddly as a cactus, but he’s a Calloway. And his grandmother, Margaret, was one of the best people to ever live in this town.”
I perk up. “His grandmother?”
“Oh, she was wonderful,” Dottie gushes. “Kind, smart, always helping folks. She practically raised Reid after his mama ran off.” Her expression softens. “Broke that boy’s heart. He hasn’t been the same since.”
A pang of sympathy tightens my chest. No wonder he doesn’t let people in. No wonder he avoids town. And no wonder the folks of Pine Hollow still hold onto their affection for him, even if he keeps his distance.
“He might be gruff, but he’s my husband,” I say, standing a little straighter.
Dottie winks. “That’s the spirit, honey.”
And by the time I leave the store, my arms full of groceries and my heart full of newfound appreciation for this town, I’ve somehow agreed to one tiny thing that I’m sure Reid won’t like.
The Pine Hollow Valentine’s Day Dance.