Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
But now Grandad and Grandma are gone, just like Mom and Dad… and all those little girl hopes and dreams are gone too.
I’ve finished packing my suitcases, taking only the essentials with me — knowing so many of the family heirlooms must be left behind. The bank seized everything, and the fact I’ve been allowed to stay here in the house the last few months is more than I thought I would get. After Grandad passed from a stroke six months ago, Grandma and I tried our best to hold onto the family property. But as soon as I took a look at the bills I realized Grandma had been keeping the truth from me for years. They were bankrupt. She died of a broken heart a few months after Grandad passed and it felt like the entire world collapsed around me.
Now, I have a few suitcases and a one-way ticket to Snow Valley. And while I’ve always been an optimist, it’s hard to carry much cheer when I am saying goodbye to the only life I’ve ever known.
A taxi honks outside, and I walk to the front door, opening it up to the blustery winter day, calling out to the driver. “I need two minutes, please.”
Then I come back inside and grab my parents’ wedding album, and grandma’s veil, and gently tuck them in the suitcase before zippering it closed. The bank may believe they own everything — but they can’t take these memories. They are all I have left.
As I climb into the taxi, I roll down the window despite the chill in the air. I don’t fight the tears as they fall down my cheeks.
This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life… yet right now it is also the saddest.
Still, I need to put my best foot forward. After I’ve cried my little heart out, I wipe my eyes and take deep breaths, reminding myself that just because I’ve lost the people I love, it doesn’t mean my life is over. I am here, alive. I want my family who have gone before me to look down and see that I’m being brave, strong, and giving the world the best version of myself.
Whoever Holly Huckleberry, the woman who runs Mail-Order Brides For Christmas, matched me with is expecting a wife who is ready to be married. Not a woman who is at the end of her rope, without anyone to catch her when she falls. I may have left the farm under heartbreaking circumstances, but finding Holly’s website truly felt like the saving grace I’d been praying for. I can hold onto that feeling when the nerves that come with marrying a complete stranger start to take over.
The drive to the airport is quick and I check in my bags without any problems. Takeoff is smooth and there’s no turbulence as we fly in the small passenger plane. I’m seated alone in my row and my favorite romantic comedy is free for me to watch.
I only hope the rest of the day goes so well.
When the plane lands, I pull out my compact and press powder to my cheeks, putting a soft rose-colored lipstick on. I hope my husband thinks I’m pretty. Sexy, even. I’m wearing white panties and a white bra… and I hope that tonight we consummate the marriage.
I may be a virgin, but I want to go to bed with my man. God knows I’ve spent enough nights alone in my bed, using my battery-operated boyfriend as I fantasized about my husband-to-be.
Yes, I am a very horny twenty-two-year-old who is more than ready to get the deed done. And if the groom is sexy, if he happens to get me wet and wild… well, all the better.
I smile to myself, my nerves gone.
And I remember the words my Grandad always said to me before I’d leave the house: Kind heart, fierce mind, brave spirit.
I have no idea what happens next. But it is December 1st. The same day my parents got married. And my grandparents before them.
I may not be getting the conventional wedding of my little girl dreams, but I am getting to carry on this tradition. And that means so very much. Holly understood when I told her this was the only date I could arrive. And nothing can ruin that.
The plane has landed, and the pilot is out of the cockpit to wave goodbye. It gives me a good feeling that Snow Valley might have that small town feel I know and love.
“Be careful there, little lady,” the pilot says. “You might want to zip up that coat. It’s been snowing buckets for the last hour.”
Nodding, I zip up my winter parka, stepping from the plane to the staircase that’s been wheeled out for the passengers.
The pilot wasn’t exaggerating. It’s a snow flurry out here, and I can hardly make out any people.