CHAPTER ONE
JARED
The buck's antlers are magnificent. At least a twelve pointer, possibly more. I track him through my scope, breath steady despite the December chill biting at my exposed skin. He's about two hundred yards away, completely unaware as he grazes in the small clearing.
I don't pull the trigger.
Instead, I lower my rifle and watch him through binoculars. I haven't actually hunted for meat in years. These days, I mostly just track animals to see if I still can. To maintain the skills that kept me and my unit alive during three tours in Afghanistan.
"Beautiful, aren't you?" I mutter as the buck raises its head, ears twitching. A moment later, he bounds away, disappearing into the thick pines that blanket these Nevada mountains.
My mountains. My sanctuary.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I ignore it. Cell service is spotty up here anyway, which is exactly how I like it. But it buzzes again. And again. Whoever it is, they're persistent.
I pull out my phone, scowling at the screen. Three missed calls from my aunt Beverly. Four text messages.
Aunt Beverly: Jared, call me. Important news.
Aunt Beverly: Jared Calloway, I know you're ignoring me.
Aunt Beverly: JARED. CALL ME BACK.
Aunt Beverly: Fine. I'll just tell you. Aunt Mildred is coming for Christmas. Yes, THAT Aunt Mildred. The one with the money. The one who's been asking about you. She wants to meet your wife.
I read the last message twice, a cold feeling spreading through my chest that has nothing to do with the December air. I text back.
Me: I don't have a wife.
The response comes immediately.
Aunt Beverly:She thinks you do. Remember that Christmas card I sent her last year with the family updates? I might have mentioned you got married.
"What the fuck?" I growl at my phone.
Me: Why would you do that?I type, fingers clumsy with anger and the cold.
Aunt Beverly: She was going on about how you'd never settle down. How you're too damaged from the war. I couldn't stand hearing her talk about you like that, so I told her you found someone. A nice girl. She's been asking to meet this mystery woman for a year. Now she's coming. December 23rd. Two weeks from now.
Aunt Beverly: Look, she's dying, Jared. This might be her last Christmas. Can't you find someone topretend for a couple of weeks? Just to make her happy?
"Jesus Christ." I stuff the phone back in my pocket without responding and start the hike back to my truck.
My aunt Beverly means well. She raised me after my parents died when I was fourteen, and I know she only wants to see me happy. But this? This is a special kind of disaster.
Aunt Mildred is my grand aunt, technically. Beverly's aunt. She's ninety two, filthy rich from her deceased husband's oil investments, and has strong opinions on how everyone should live their lives. Especially mine.
Too damaged from the war.Her words, not mine, but they hit a nerve I'd rather not acknowledge. The scar on my cheekbone throbs, a phantom pain that always flares when I'm stressed.
By the time I reach my truck, I've run through my options. I could tell the truth. Admit I'm not married. Deal with Aunt Mildred's disappointment and lectures about how I'm wasting my life hiding in these mountains. Fake a emergency. Sorry Aunt Mildred, can't make it. Broken leg. Rabid bear attack. Anything. Or find someone to pretend to be my wife for two weeks.
Option three is ridiculous. I know exactly zero women who would agree to such a scheme. I'm not exactly known for my charm in Whisper Vale. Most locals call me the Mountain Hermit behind my back. They're not wrong. I own the general store in town, sure, but I have employees who handle most customer interactions. I mainly deal with inventory and suppliers. Minimal human contact is my specialty.
I start my truck and begin the winding drive down the mountain toward town. The road is slick with ice in spots, requiring my full attention, which is good. Keeps my mind off the impending disaster of Aunt Mildred's visit.
When I reach Whisper Vale proper, the town is transformed. Christmas decorations everywhere. Lights strung across Main Street. A massive tree stands in the town square. Holiday music drifts from storefronts. The whole town looks like it's been vomited on by Christmas elves.
Great. Another reason to avoid town for the next month.
