Hundreds of people stream out onto the front lawn of the Claremont. Only trouble is, the lawn is covered in snow. Whistler is a skiers’ paradise, but I am not a skier.

And even if I were, like my sister and Taylor, no one here is prepared for evacuation. My sister, with her beautiful hair and makeup, her dress soaked through, I catch her eye and she is shaking her head in horror as we stand back and watch the hotel ignite.

“Stand back. Stand back everyone,” firefighters yell as they carry hoses from their trucks. The fire is at the back of the building, where all the rooms are, but since the sprinklers went off, not much of the interior will be destroyed.

“My God,” I say, shaking my head in shock. “I can’t believe this is happening to Sophia and Taylor.” My heart breaks for my sister. I know how badly she wanted this day to be perfect, this entire wedding to be a dream come true. And now everything is up in flames.

“I hope to hell everyone’s okay,” Samson says, wrapping his arm around me. His arm feels like safety, like security and promise. I don’t want him to let go.

We haven’t exchanged even a few words yet, and I know things like I’m sorry and I forgive you will need to be said, but then tragedy struck us all.

I nestle myself deeper against him, my cheek presses against his chest, and he smells like evergreen and mountain air. He smells like a man.

And I want to tell him I want him to be my man.

Will I forgive him? One million times over.

Let it be. Let it be.

No one is perfect, every one of us is flawed. But I believe in my heart Samson was trying to make things right when he came clean to me. He wasn’t trying to hide.

And I see him.

“Everyone is going to need to leave the property,” a firefighter directs us.

Samson nods and leads me toward my sister and the rest of the family. The wedding party is huddled on the road, our heels sinking in the deep snow and our bare legs shivering.

“An employee told us that everyone has been safely evacuated,” Sophia explains, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Taylor looks like a train wreck, stress written in his eyes, and I hate that everything is ruined.

“Does anyone know what happened?” my mother asks. My father’s hand is on hers, and everyone’s watching the back half of the hotel crumble. The sky is full of smoke, and the fact that it’s already nightfall doesn’t help anything.

“I heard someone mention an electrical fire,” my aunt tells us.

As we watch the firefighters work to extinguish the flames, I feel Sampson slip away from me.

Instantly, I wish he were back at my side. I see him speaking with my father and Taylor several feet away.

“I’m so sorry, Sophia,” I tell my sister, wrapping her in a hug. The bridesmaids, Janet and Cecily cling to their husbands, everyone shocked at what has happened.

“It’s all so tragic,” Sophia whispers. “I guess there’s no rehearsal dinner tonight.”

Janet, Cecily and I take in her words. I wish with all my heart there was something I could do to fix things for her.

My mom is talking loudly, not helping the situation, “With this being a holiday weekend all the hotels are booked solid. My third cousin Caroline wanted to come, last-minute, to the wedding, but she couldn’t find a place to stay anywhere.”

“Not a single place to sleep in Whistler?” I ask. “Aren’t there, like, a thousand hotels here?”

“Perhaps, but Caroline wouldn’t stay anywhere less than four-star.”

I realize this is not the time to pick a fight, but it's hard not to roll my eyes at my family’s propriety. All we need now are warm beds, food, and shelter. The truth is, we should just be grateful we are alive.

Several minutes later the men rejoin us.

“Everything okay?” Sophia asks, then groans at herself. “My God, that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever said. Of course, everything is not okay. Everything is ruined.” She wipes the tears from her eyes and Taylor wraps her in a hug.

“Actually, Sophia,” he says. “Everything isn’t lost.”

“What do you mean?” Sophia asks looking up at her husband-to-be.

“The best man saved the day.”

All eyes turn to Samson, who immediately drops his gaze. This mountain man looks uncomfortable in this fancy suit and his beard tells a bigger story. He’s a man who lives on the land and loves this country.

So how is Samson, this reclusive wanderer, going to save the day?

“How?” Sophia asks.

Samson nods his head, looking at my sister. “You’re welcome to join me at my place, for the weekend. It’s not the Claremont, and I’m sorry for that Sophia, but I think it might work in a pinch.”

“Your place?” She asks. She shakes her head confused. “But I thought you lived in a cabin in...” She purses her lips. “Where exactly do you live?”

“I love outside of Faro, in the Yukon. But I have a place here that I keep as an investment property.”

“Investment property?” Sophia asks, looking at me to see if I knew about this. I shake my head, as confused as she is. His words don’t match the image we have of him in our minds.

But then I laugh to myself because this is Samson. Has he ever been anything I thought he was? I thought he was incapable of love, of opening up, being humble and being open. But that isn’t the case all. I got to know him as HeartofGold and realized there’s more to him than meets the eye.

“Why do you have an investment property?” Sophia presses. “I thought you lived in a cabin. In the middle of nowhere.”

“I do live in the middle of nowhere. But, I have a mine up there.” Samson looks at the ground, clearly uncomfortable with her line of questioning.

“A mine?” I ask, thoroughly confused. I guess I assumed Samson hunted bears and foraged for food.

“I, uh, bought some land when I moved up north, and, there was some veins of gold in the Heartland Mountains, which I own.”

“What do you mean, veins of gold?” Janet asks. “Like, a gold mine?”

Sophia is typing away on her phone, lips pursed. Then a shocked gasp escapes them. “Holy shit. You’re not joking.” She turns her phone to face us, images of his mine, his properties, and even a Wikipage on him are listed.

Samson runs his hand over his beard. “Look, I’m a miner, and there was a gold rush a few years back.” Samson nods stoically, looking at the ground, crossing his arms. It’s as if talking about money and his accomplishments is the most uncomfortable thing in the world.

I smile at that, appreciating how he isn’t bound by the trappings of material things. He doesn’t lead with what he has always done. He’s himself, and I can’t help but think maybe I’m not the only one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Maybe Samson does too.

“A gold rush? What does that mean?” Sophia asks.

“It means he’s billionaire.” Taylor says. “Don’t look at me like that, Sophia,” he continues. “I had no idea either. He just told your dad and me just now. But I think this plan is a good one. Solid. It’s not perfect, it’s not the dream you had planned, but we can still get married, you and me. We can still start our life together.”

Taylor wipes away her tears and then she wraps Samson in a hug. “Thank you, thank you so much,” she gushes.

I’m relieved to see my sister finding a way to roll with the punches after so many years of being uptight.

“So how far is your place?” Janet’s husband asks Samson. “Because it’s fucking cold out here. And it’s only gonna get colder.”

“Only thirty minutes away. It won’t take long.”

“And should we order dinner to go?” my mother asks. “Is there, I don’t know, pizza delivery?”

“Oh, my God,” Sophia laughs. “I’ve never heard mom order pizza in my life.” She calms down and says, “I can’t believe the hotel burned down, all of our things are destroyed, were’ standing in snow, and eating pizza for my rehearsal dinner. This was so not the plan.”

We all shake our heads, still not believing what’s just transpired.

“We don’t need to get pizza, Cora,” Samson tells her. “I already called my cook and she’s called in a handful of extra staff for tonight. There will be a dinner for you, Sophia, I promise.”

Cook? Investment properties? The gold rush?

I shake my head in disbelief. Samson saved the day, proving that he truly has a heart of gold.

“Then, let’s not sit around anymore, I’ll sort things out with the hotel later, but for now let’s get everyone out of the cold,” my father says.

“Before you go,” Samson says my father. “I need to speak with you.”

My dad nods and everyone begins to go separate ways, Samson telling them that he’ll text them his address.

I look at my sister, Taylor, and my mom, deciding who I should ride with, grateful we’ve all rented cars when we landed in Whistler.

“Ava Grace,” a voice calls to me. I turned and find Samson looking at me. “I need to talk to your father, but then, you’re coming home with me.”