“Take the meat, darling. You don't have to marry me out of pity.”
The woman's voice broke as she held a massive smoked ham against her enormous ivory wedding gown, her trembling fingers gripping the cream-colored linen cloth beneath it. Tears rolled down her soft, beautiful cheeks while she stared at the towering mountain rancher standing in the doorway of her smokehouse, his dark hair tangled with snow and his powerful chest rising beneath a weathered fur-lined vest.
Behind him, the Appalachian Mountains had disappeared beneath a winter storm.
Behind her, dozens of carefully cured hams and thick strips of bacon hung from the smokehouse's dark wooden beams, filling the air with the familiar scent of hardwood smoke, salt, and mountain tradition.
She had been waiting in her wedding dress since sunrise.
He had promised to arrive before noon.
Now the sun was sinking behind the mountains, the county minister had already returned to town, and the man she loved was finally standing before her with mud on his boots, blood on one knuckle, and an expression so troubled that she could barely look at him.
For a terrible moment, she believed every cruel thing the townspeople had said about her was true.
That no handsome rancher would genuinely love a woman weighing nearly seven hundred and sixteen pounds.
That her beautiful wedding gown was a foolish fantasy.
That the only thing a man could possibly want from her was the valuable smokehouse her father had left behind.
And that the rancher's sudden affection had always been about the property, not the woman who owned it.
She was thirty-two years old, extraordinarily beautiful, with thick chestnut-brown hair arranged in a loose braid decorated with small white flowers. Her captivating green eyes were filled with tears, and the enormous ivory gown draped over her approximately 325-kilogram figure had taken months to create.
The bodice was gathered beautifully across her broad waist, delicate lace surrounded the square neckline, and long folds of embroidered fabric fell around her massive hips and thighs. Every seam had been measured and adjusted carefully so that she could move comfortably within the limits of her considerable size.
It was the most beautiful dress she had ever owned.
And she was beginning to believe she had worn it for nothing.
The rancher took one step toward her.
“Sweetheart, put that ham down.”
She shook her head.