A Bride For The Mountain Man. Tracy Madison

he’d say goodbye to technology and every one of his digital cameras, even his newest Canon, in a nanosecond.

      And yeah, he’d be sorry to see them go, but everything about film photography—from the cameras themselves, to how they worked and how to coax the best possible shot out of them, to the art of developing the prints—was what had drawn Liam to this profession to begin with. His want for solitude and exploration drove him toward the obvious niche: nature and wildlife.

      Well, also that he tended to understand animals far easier than people. Typically, he liked them better, too. And he would always choose just about any remote location over a city. Cities had too many people, and people liked to talk. Something Liam wasn’t all that fond of.

      His sister teased him, liked to say that Liam was allergic to other human beings outside of their family network. In a way, he supposed there was some truth to that statement, but his “allergy” was by choice. He was just a guy who did better on his own and had long ago recognized that fact. Other than Fiona and a few friends who didn’t annoy him every time they opened their mouths, he had Max and Maggie. Along with his job, that was all he needed.

      Calling out their names once again, he waited to see if they’d show. When they didn’t, Liam shoved his worry to the back burner and returned to his cabin.

      He’d built it close to five years ago now, on a secluded plot of land that was situated on an equally secluded area of the mountain. He didn’t have neighbors. He had trees and streams, wildlife and tons of privacy.

      Just as he liked it.

      Inside, he shrugged off his coat and boots. If the two shepherds weren’t back by the time he was done unpacking his gear, he’d put on his layers of arctic wear and try to track them down. Difficult, maybe impossible, with the current state of the weather, but he would have to try. He wouldn’t be able to relax, otherwise.

      Making quick work of the job, Liam hauled the equipment to his office at the back of the cabin, taking care to unpack and organize in his standard methodical fashion.

      His rolls of exposed film were in airtight, labeled canisters, which he stacked in the refrigerator he kept in this room for just that purpose. A set of customized shelves sat against the back wall that held moisture-proof containers for his various cameras, along with those meant for other necessary items, such as lenses, straps and memory cards. The longest wall of the room held his desk, computers, monitors and an array of additional storage. Everything had a place.

      Liam’s darkroom was attached to the office, but for the moment, he left that door closed. No reason to go in there until he was ready to begin developing his film, which wouldn’t be for another day or two.

      With everything more or less put away, he took the stairs two at a time to his bedroom—the only room on the second floor—where he put on the layers of clothing and outerwear appropriate for the howling storm, which was turning into one hell of a blizzard.

      Yeah, he had to go after his dogs.

      Downstairs, he grabbed a flashlight before opening the front door. Then, having second thoughts, closed it against the torrential slam of wind and snow.

      Max and Maggie’s favorite roaming grounds were in the dense cluster of trees directly behind the cabin. They’d go round and round, sniffing out squirrels or rabbits, roughhousing with each other and in warmer temperatures, cooling themselves off in the stream that twisted through the trees. He’d go that route first and hope he could outlast the storm long enough to find them and bring them home.

      Exiting through the back door, Liam did his best to ignore the worry gnawing at his gut. This just wasn’t like them. Unless one of them had gotten hurt somehow, maybe a soft spot in the icy stream held one of them captive or...no. He wouldn’t assume worst-case scenario.

      They were smart, agile dogs. Excitable and full of energy. Probably, they were happy to be home and, in their canine glee, were ignoring the cold and snow in favor of a frozen romp. Sounded good. Plausible even, to anyone who didn’t know Max and Maggie. Problem was, Liam did know them, and that sort of behavior in this type of weather didn’t ring true.

      He’d find them. He had to. They were as much his family as Fiona and Cassie.

       Chapter Two

      Within minutes of slamming into a cluster of trees, Meredith realized she no longer heard the comforting hum of the car’s engine or felt the warm flow of heat blowing from the vents. She almost turned the key in the ignition to see if the engine would fire again, but had second thoughts. Better to first check out her surroundings and the car’s condition.

      Shoving the now-deflated airbag off of her body, she unclasped her seat belt, opened the driver’s side door and stumbled to her feet. Wind-propelled snow slapped at her face, stinging her skin and making her eyes water. The early evening hung in complete darkness, without so much as a single star shining through to offer even the slimmest ray of light.

      In her entire life, she had never felt so alone or unprepared.

      She walked the perimeter of where she crashed. Since she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her, she sniffed the air for signs of a fuel leak. Fortunately, if she could trust her nose, she didn’t smell any gas fumes. Assuming the car would start, would she be able to get it back on the road? Maybe. She’d have to be lucky, though. The path out would need to be fairly straightforward, and the car would have to power through the snowy, icy uphill terrain in reverse.

      The wall of never-ending wind almost knocked her over, and she had to brace herself to keep standing, had to force her frozen legs to slog through the snow. Again, she was stunned by the saturating, painful depth of the cold. She swore her bones were shivering.

      Reaching the back of the car, Meredith tried to gauge how far off the road she’d gone. She couldn’t tell, not from where she stood. But with so many trees, she couldn’t be too far in. Probably, in the light of day, with or without a storm, she’d be able to see the road from here. As it was, however, attempting to blindly maneuver the car seemed a very bad idea.

      Okay, then. Her best course of action was huddling in the Accord for the night. So long as the engine would start, she’d have heat. She had plenty of dry clothes in her suitcase. Oh! She even had a bottle of water and a roll of butter rum–flavored Life Savers. Not the most enjoyable way to spend a night, but it could be worse. A lot worse.

      She would be fine.

      As she fought her way toward the driver’s side door, she suddenly recalled hearing of a woman who—a year or two ago—had died from carbon monoxide poisoning while waiting out a storm in her car. The tailpipes had become clogged with snow, cutting off oxygen. That poor woman had likely also thought she would be safe and sound in the shelter of her car.

      Great. Yet another way that Meredith could die tonight.

      She retreated again to check the tailpipes. For the moment, the snow wasn’t quite high enough to reach them, thank God. Though, at this rate, with the direction the wind was blowing, it wouldn’t take too much longer. Then what? She’d have to keep checking.

      Satisfied that she’d be safe for the next little while, at least, she finally pushed her frozen, wet and shivering body into the driver’s seat. The dry, still somewhat warm interior, even without blowing heat, immediately offered a blessed reprieve. But she’d feel much better with running heat. So, inhaling a large, hopeful breath, she twisted the key in the ignition.

      The engine did not rumble to life. Heck, it didn’t even squawk. Or whimper. It did nothing. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed as fervently as she knew how and tried again. Nope. Still nothing. Tears of frustration and fear filled her eyes, but she ignored them.

      The good news, she supposed, was that she could cross off carbon monoxide poisoning from tonight’s worry list. But the possibility of freezing to death moved up to number one.

      Grabbing her iPhone, Meredith pressed the Home button, hoping