Page 14 of Getaway with the Mountain Man

"Lottie Smith," Jakob says again, the formality of my full name making this moment feel ceremonial, sacred, "will you marryme? Will you build a life with me here in Silver Ridge, in these mountains, in this community that loves you almost as much as I do?"

"Yes," I breathe, the word barely audible. Then louder, more certain: "Yes, absolutely yes!"

He slides the ring onto my finger with hands that are steadier than mine, the emerald catching light like a captured piece of the forest that brought us together. When he stands and kisses me, I taste salt from both our tears and joy so pure it feels like starlight.

"I love you," I whisper against his lips. "I love you and this life and this home we've built."

"I love you too," he replies. "Forever and always, Lottie Smith soon-to-be-Lindström."

Soon-to-be-Lindström. The name feels right in a way that surprises me—I've always been fiercely independent about maintaining my identity, but becoming Jakob's wife, joining his family, putting down roots in this place feels like completion rather than compromise.

The festival is in full swing by the time we reach Main Street, and my nerves about the bakery booth evaporate in the face of such genuine community celebration. People I've come to consider friends and neighbors line up to sample my offerings, their enthusiasm and encouragement warming me more than any corporate approval ever did.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dahlia appears at my booth, her artist's eye immediately spotting the ring I keep unconsciously displaying as I gesture while talking.

"Jakob proposed this morning," I confirm, unable to contain my smile.

The announcement creates a ripple effect that spreads through the crowd faster than wildfire. Within minutes, I'm surrounded by well-wishers, congratulations, and demands to see the ring.

As the sun sets behind the mountains and the festival winds down, we pack up my booth with the satisfied exhaustion that comes from a successful debut. Every cupcake sold, a dozen special orders taken, and more importantly, the knowledge that Lottie's Mountain Bakery will have a place in this community I've grown to love.

"No regrets?" Jakob asks as we drive home, my engagement ring catching light from the dashboard.

"About what? Leaving Toronto? Starting over? Falling in love with a stubborn equipment operator who proposed at a harvest festival?"

"Any of it. All of it."

I consider the question seriously, examining my life from every angle. The corporate career I abandoned, the financial security I traded for uncertainty, the predictable existence I exchanged for adventure and risk.

"None," I say with absolute conviction. "Jakob, a year ago I thought I knew what I wanted—partnership, success, security. But I was measuring everything by other people's definitions."

"And now?"

"Now I measure success by waking up excited for the day ahead. By work that brings joy instead of stress. By love that makes me braver instead of smaller." I reach across the console to take his hand. "By choosing someone who sees my dreams as worth pursuing, not obstacles to overcome."

"I love your dreams," he says simply. "Almost as much as I love you."

That night, as we lie in bed planning our future—wedding details and business expansion and all the beautiful complications of building a shared life—I marvel at the journey that brought us here. A forced vacation, a chance encounter in the woods, a decision to take a chance on something impossible.

"Thank you," I whisper against Jakob's chest as sleep claims me.

"For what?"

"For seeing me. For loving me. For convincing me that fairy tales can come true, even for practical marketing executives who don't believe in love at first sight."

"You convinced yourself," he corrects gently. "I just provided the inspiration."

As I drift toward sleep in the arms of the man I'm going to marry, surrounded by the mountains that have become home, I think about the woman who arrived in Silver Ridge a year ago. She was successful, driven, seemingly self-sufficient. But she was also tired, lonely, and slowly disappearing beneath the weight of other people's expectations.

The woman falling asleep as Lottie Smith for the last time—soon to be Lottie Lindström—is braver, happier, and more authentically herself than she's ever been. She took the biggest risk of her life and discovered that sometimes the most impractical choices lead to the most perfect outcomes.

In the morning, she'll wake up as an engaged woman in a mountain town she never planned to call home, preparing to marry an equipment operator she met by getting gloriously lost in the woods.

And she can't wait.