PART 2 — THE MAN WHO CAME FOR HIS BRIDE

Amelia could barely see three feet ahead.

The blizzard had erased everything.

The barn.

The fence.

The trail.

Even the mountains had disappeared.

The rope around her waist was the only thing connecting her to the cabin.

She kept one hand against it as she moved forward.

“Ethan!”

Nothing.

Only wind.

She took another step.

Then another.

Her eyelashes froze.

Her fingers burned.

She nearly turned back.

Then something dark appeared beside the fence.

A glove.

Ethan’s glove.

Amelia’s heart stopped.

She followed the half-buried trail.

And then she saw him.

He lay motionless in the snow.

Hope was pressed against his chest beneath his coat.

“Oh, God.”

Amelia dropped beside him.

She touched his neck.

A pulse.

Weak.

But there.

“Ethan.”

His eyelids moved.

“Amelia?”

“I’m here.”

“Take Hope.”

She almost laughed through her tears.

“I’m taking both of you.”

She pulled the rope around his body.

Then she began dragging.

Inch by inch.

The storm fought her every step.

Hope stumbled beside them, whining softly.

By the time Amelia reached the porch, she could no longer feel her hands.

She somehow got Ethan inside.

She stripped away his frozen coat.

Wrapped him in blankets.

Built up the fire.

Warmed him slowly.

Hours passed.

The storm raged outside.

Eventually, Ethan opened his eyes.

Amelia was asleep beside him.

Her head rested against the edge of the bed.

One hand still held his.

“Amelia.”

Her eyes opened instantly.

“You absolute fool.”

Ethan managed the faintest smile.

“I was looking for the horse.”

“You almost died.”

“I know.”

“I thought I’d lost you.”

Her voice broke.

Then she threw her arms around him.

Ethan held her tightly.

Neither of them pretended anymore.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Amelia pulled back.

Tears filled her eyes.

“I love you too.”

For the first time, their marriage wasn’t an arrangement.

It wasn’t an escape.

It wasn’t two strangers sharing a roof.

It was real.

Then came the knock.

Three slow knocks.

Ethan frowned.

No one should have been outside.

Not in that storm.

He reached for his gun.

“Stay behind me.”

He opened the door.

A man stood outside.

Snow covered his coat.

His horse trembled behind him.

He looked exhausted.

But his eyes were sharp.

They moved past Ethan.

Straight to Amelia.

The stranger’s expression changed.

“There you are.”

Amelia went completely pale.

Ethan stepped in front of her.

“Who are you?”

The man slowly removed his hat.

“Frederick Wainwright.”

Amelia’s breath caught.

Ethan’s hand tightened around the gun.

Wainwright smiled.

A cold, confident smile.

“And I’ve come to take my fiancée back to Boston.”

The cabin fell silent.

Ethan turned slightly toward Amelia.

“Fiancée?”

Amelia’s face had lost all its color.

“He isn’t my fiancé.”

Wainwright laughed softly.

“Not anymore, perhaps.”

He reached inside his coat.

Ethan raised his gun.

“Don’t.”

Wainwright stopped.

Then he pulled out a folded document.

“I think you’ll want to see this.”

He held it up.

Amelia stared.

Her aunt’s seal.

Her signature.

And beneath them—

A marriage contract.

Her name.

Frederick Wainwright’s name.

A date from before she had ever left Boston.

Amelia’s voice shook.

“I never signed that.”

“I know.”

Wainwright smiled.

“Your aunt did.”

Ethan’s expression hardened.

“Then why bring it here?”

“Because the contract says Amelia’s inheritance passes to her husband.”

Silence.

Ethan looked at Amelia.

She stared at the document.

“My inheritance?”

Wainwright nodded.

“Your father’s horse farm wasn’t simply swallowed by debt.”

Amelia’s eyes widened.

“Then what happened?”

“Your aunt lied.”

The words struck harder than the storm outside.

“Your father left land.”

“Money.”

“And several valuable breeding horses.”

Amelia couldn’t breathe.

Wainwright took one step forward.

“Your aunt couldn’t access any of it without you.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

“So she sent Amelia away.”

“Exactly.”

“And expected you to marry her.”

“Eventually.”

Amelia’s hands began to shake.

“Why?”

Wainwright’s smile disappeared.

“Because once you’re my wife, everything becomes mine.”

Ethan stepped forward.

“You came through a blizzard for property?”

Wainwright looked at him.

“I came for what belongs to me.”

“No.”

Amelia’s voice stopped them both.

She stepped out from behind Ethan.

Her face was still pale.

But her eyes were no longer afraid.

“You came for what you thought you could control.”

Wainwright stared at her.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Amelia looked at the document.

Then tore it in half.

Wainwright’s face went rigid.

“You can’t—”

She tore it again.

And again.

Until the contract became nothing but scraps scattered across the floor.

“I am not your property.”

Ethan looked at her.

Something fierce and proud filled his eyes.

Wainwright stepped backward.

“You’ll regret this.”

Amelia lifted her chin.

“No.”

She took Ethan’s hand.

“For the first time in my life, I’m making my own choice.”

Outside, the storm continued to rage.

Inside the cabin, the past had finally found them.

But Amelia wasn’t the frightened young woman who had fled Boston anymore.

And Ethan wasn’t the lonely cowboy who had ordered a wife because he was afraid of being alone.

They had chosen each other.

Now they would have to fight for the life they had built together.

And Wainwright had just made the mistake of believing that the woman he once tried to control was still the same woman who had left Boston.

She wasn’t.

Not anymore.