The Marrying Kind

Table of Contents The Marrying Kind About the Book Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Acknowledgments The Marrying Kind Copyright © 2023 Kendall Ryan Copy Editing by Pam Berehulke Formatting by Uplifting Author Services All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. About the Book Welcome to Kodiak Canyon, where the men outnumber the women, the beards are impressive, and the beer is home-brewed. You’re invited to sit back and relax, enjoy the wood-burning fire and the company. Friends become family here, and everyone’s willing to pitch in and help when needed. Ella Westover and Austen Hart are about as different as they can be. After losing her parents in a tragic accident, Ella is determined to live her life to the fullest, and so she sets off on an adventure, complete with a hand-written bucket list tucked safely in the worn pages of her journal. Her first stop? Kodiak Canyon, elevation nine thousand feet, population just over six hundred. The views are breathtaking, the mountain air is sweet, and the pace is slow . . . it’s everything she’s dreamed of. Austen is a real-life mountain man. A local with a knack for surviving in the toughest of climates, he’s got everything a man could need . . . almost. The only thing he doesn’t have is a wife, a pretty maiden to warm his bed at night, someone to share his homestead with. Kodiak Canyon has a lot to offer, but female companionship isn’t one of them. He isn’t about to let the beautiful and strong-willed Ella get away so easily. Ella might take him up on his room to rent, but she’ll never be someone’s wife. She’s got a plan. A life to live. But as she starts ticking off items on her bucket list . . . one that she never imagined starts to take center stage. Fall in love. 1 HOMELESS, PARTY OF ONE Ella “I don’t understand.” I stood in the parking lot of the apartment building and glared at my real estate agent—a woman named Samantha I’d hired over the internet. I’d driven straight to her office upon arriving in town, just as we’d agreed. She seemed nervous as she shuffled me out of the office and on the chilly walk over here, just a few blocks down Main Street. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. “I didn’t know how to tell you. You seemed so set on coming here . . .” “You didn’t know how to tell me? How about with words? Four of them, in fact. The inn burned down. It’s really quite simple.” Dread settled in the pit of my stomach as I looked at what used to be the most luxurious accommodations Kodiak Canyon had to offer. Granted, I know that’s not saying much for a town with a population of barely six hundred. These days, it had been turned into rental apartments and was the only place in town that was available for rent. And this was supposed to be my home for the next few weeks. The three-story historic building was blackened and crumbling on one side. The turreted tower that had looked so charming in all the online photos was lopsided and caved in. “I’m sorry,” Samantha said again, giving me a sincere look. “I torpedoed my entire life to get here. I gave up my lease for this.” She didn’t need to know that I was between jobs and had nothing of a romantic life to speak of. “I’m going to get this all straightened out.” Samantha offered me a weak smile, but I had zero confidence in her at this point. I had literally just begun my big adventure, and my plans were already crumbling. “There’s a little bar at the end of this block,” she said. “Unless you’re opposed to this idea. Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat, and I’m going to go back to my office and brainstorm. I’ll call you in one hour.” I glanced in the direction she had pointed. In the distance, there was a two-story brick building that had a painted sign out front—Velma’s Tavern. “You’ll call me in one hour?” She nodded, smiling again. “Okay,” I said, on a deep sigh, surrendering. After all, I had little choice. Turning for the end of the street, I tried to focus on the positives. The town was every bit as charming as I’d imagined it would be with a single stop sign, quaint little shops lining the main street, and huge, towering pine trees and mounds of fluffy snow. It was like being inside a snow globe, or on the set of a Christmas movie. Inside Velma’s Tavern, I found an open stool at the bar. There were only a few other patrons, and country music played low in the background. I wouldn’t have thought country music would be popular in Colorado—we were quite far from the South—until I remembered that this area was originally home to ranchers and real, authentic cowboys. The bar was a single slab of hewn pine, the lighting was dark and moody, and the bartender was prompt. In under a minute, I had a glass of red wine sitting in front of me. But it did little to improve my mood. I was feeling a little hopeless at the moment, and a little homeless. “Can I get you anything else?” the perky bartender asked, stopping in