Page 1 of The Preacher’s Bride (Whiskey River Brides #4)

Mia

February 1871

New York, New York

“Hey, Mia!” Trent Jericho yelled as he walked into the Breckenridge Saloon in New York, New York. “Wanna dance?”

He took off his hat as he approached, his presence filling the sparkly filled room. Trent had been a regular for a while and was harmless. He was a local lawyer, dressed in a business suit, but he always wore a cowboy hat… no matter how out of fashion it was in New York. Trent was a misplaced cowboy, Mia reasoned.

“Trent….” Mia Flynn placed her hands on her hips. “You really should get a wife, you know. With as much money as you spend in here—”

“Why? You offering?” he cut her off, arching an eyebrow.

Mia couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, like I’d marry the likes of you.”

Trent scoffed, making a big show of placing his hat over his heart. “Miss Flynn, you have mortally wounded me.” When she laughed, he added, “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

Mia laughed, shaking her head. She could never stay mad at Trent, even if she was only pretending. “That’s what I thought. One of these days, a woman’s going to catch your eye—”

“And I’ll run like hell.” Trent took a step closer. “Just one dance? Please?”

She pretended to deliberate as the feather in her blonde, wavy hair bobbed. She had been a dancehall girl since she moved here three years before, after her parents died of influenza in Connecticut. She let out a deep breath. “Sure.”

Mia was getting tired of making a living with men paying her to dance. One day, she wanted to have a family of her own and children, but that wasn’t going to happen here.

Trent crossed the saloon. “Thanks, Mia. I’ve had a hard day at the courthouse and a dance will cheer me up.”

Mia looked at him sharply. “A big trial, huh?”

Trent nodded. “Yeah, but I can’t talk about it. While the trial’s on, I’m sworn to secrecy.” He towered over her as he twirled her expertly around the dance floor. “Say, have you heard from Wyatt Nash lately?”

Mia scoffed. “Now, why would I ever hear from him? After the last mess he made in here, he can just stay where he is.”

A man had called him a cheat and drew a knife. One thing led to another, and they tore up the bar. They paid for the damages, but Mia and the other girls were left to clean up the mess.

“Hey, that wasn’t Wyatt’s fault.” Trent arched an eyebrow, thinking. “Didn’t he move to Wyoming like Ella?”

She nodded. “Yes. A little town called Whiskey River.” A twinge of guilt tugged at her. In the last letter she had received, Ella was pregnant and would have the baby soon. She and Ella had been roommates. They had been close—like sisters. Mia sighed, wishing she could be there for her friend in her time of need now.

“What’s wrong?” Trent asked, truly concerned. Over the past few years, he’d been nice enough. Always a gentleman. In fact, he’d been somewhat of a big brother figure to her since she’d known him.

“I just wish I could be there with Ella.” Mia looked up into his eyes. “She’s going to have a baby soon and, from what I gather, the pregnancy’s been rough.”

Trent shook his head. “That’s too bad. I always liked Ella. Well, I’m sure everything will work out all right.” The dance came to an end. “Dance another?”

Mia scoffed. “You haven’t paid me for the first one yet.”

Trent laughed as he pulled out two dollars and handed them to her. “Here’s for this one and the next one, too.”

She took the money and slipped it into the front of her dress. There had to be a better way to make a living. Being a dancehall girl was good money, but just not enough. Since Ella left, she had to shoulder all the financial responsibilities herself. While they were roommates, they rented a two-bedroom tenement and split all the bills. Now, there just never seemed to be enough to cover everything.

“What’s wrong?” Trent asked, breaking her reverie. Out of all the men who frequented the saloon, he was the best dancer. Despite their bantering, Mia never minded dancing with him.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Trent raised an eyebrow. “Come on. It’s not ‘nothing’. Talk to me.”

Mia let out a deep breath and gave him a small smile. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Times are just a little tough, is all.”

A crease formed between his eyes. “Need some money?”

Trent had always been very direct. That was one of the things she liked about him.

“No, I’ll be fine,” she said, looking around the nearly empty saloon. It was dead tonight. “I’ve been taking in some sewing lately for extra money.”

Trent stopped dancing immediately and took out his wallet. “How much do you need?”

“Put that away in here.” Mia gently pushed his hand down, looking around the room. Luckily, no one was watching. “I appreciate the gesture, but I’ll be all right.” She shrugged. “I just need some time to figure things out.” The only problem was that she had taken in all the sewing she could handle, working into the wee hours of the morning… and it still wasn’t enough.

“Here. Take it.” Trent opened his wallet and shoved a twenty-dollar bill into her hand.

Her eyes flew open wide as she looked at the money, and then up to his eyes. “Trent, this is too much! I can’t take this!”

Trent closed his hand around hers, the money crumpling. “You can and you will.” He shrugged. “Not to brag, but I make good money and I don’t have a family, so what else am I going to spend it on? I already have more than I know what to do with in the bank.” His shoulders lifted. “Besides, it’s only money.”

“Trent, I don’t know what to say….” Tears sprang to her eyes. Twenty dollars would be enough to not only pay the rent, but to buy groceries, too. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Oh, no you won’t!” He looked around and then lowered his voice. “Mia, this is for you. Don’t give the house a cut of it.”

She nodded, a small smile lighting her lips. “Thank you,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Hey… let’s have none of that.” Trent wiped a tear away from under her eye with the pad of his thumb.

“Thank you.” Mia looked up at him with doe eyes. “Want another dance?”

Trent chuckled. “Well, since I just lost that one, sure. But I’m going home after that.” Trent thought for a moment, and then added, “Mia, what I gave you… it’s not for dances. It’s for you.”

She nodded, smiling. “I know.”

Then a broad smile spread across his face. “Now, how about that dance?”

Mia laughed as she held her arms out to him willingly. Even though she knew she wasn’t obligated, she gave him another dance on the house, grateful for his help. With that kind of money, she would have plenty left over for a while until she could decide what she wanted to do.

As Mia walked up the stairs to her tenement later that night, Mrs. O’Riley came out of her apartment from across the hall, scowling as she placed her hands on her hips. The woman’s red hair was a testament to her Irish temper. “And when do ye plan on paying the rent, my dear? I have bills to pay, too, ye know.”

A broad smile spread across Mia’s face. “As a matter of fact, I have the money right here.” She took a step closer but didn’t dare take out the money. Knowing Mrs. O’Riley, she would take the whole twenty for rent, but Mia had other plans for it.

Mrs. O’Riley’s eyebrows raised nearly into her hairline.

“Do you have change for a twenty?” Mia asked nonchalantly.

The middle-aged woman gasped. “And where did ye git that kind of money, lass?”

“Never you mind that,” Mia replied, her hands on her hips. “Do you have change?”

Mrs. O’Riley just shook her head. “No, but I can apply it to your next month’s rent.”

Mia shook her head as she pushed past her. “That’s what I thought. I’m going out to get some things, and I’ll be over later with the rent.”

Mrs. O’Riley narrowed her eyes, and then gave her one swift nod. “By the way, somethin’ came for ye today.”

Mia’s eyes brightened. “What is it?”

The Irish woman shrugged. “A letter from Ella.” She pulled out a crisp white envelope from a pocket in the side of her skirt and handed it to her, changing her attitude. “So, how is she?”

Mia shrugged as she ran her fingers over the beautiful scroll that was distinctly Ella’s. “I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet.”

“Hmph!” Mrs. O’Riley huffed as she marched back into her apartment. “And don’t ye forget to come by later with the rent!” She slammed the door shut, punctuating her words.

Mia hurried inside and quickly locked the door behind her. A woman living alone in New York City wasn’t ideal, but it was the best she could do at the moment. She slung her reticule haphazardly onto a nearby table and then looked down at the letter in her hands.

January in New York was cold. There was no other way to say it. Mia wanted nothing more than to curl up in her rocking chair, tear open the envelope, and devour every word from her friend. But she would probably freeze to death before she could finish the letter. So, she hurried to build a fire in the fireplace with what was left of the twigs in the wood box. She made a mental note to have some wood delivered.

Soon, the small fire lapped eagerly at the twigs, burning a bright red, orange, and yellow as warmth filled the tenement. Then she settled herself in for a nice read. She picked up the envelope and looked at the return address one more time, savoring the moment.

“Whiskey River,” Mia mumbled, running her fingers over the paper. What an odd name for a town, but from what Ella had told her of the friendly people there, it seemed to suit the town well.

Unable to wait any longer, she daintily tore open one end of the envelope, revealing the contents inside.

My Dearest Mia:

It seems as if it’s been longer than it has since I’ve seen your lovely, smiling face. This pregnancy is making me nostalgic, perhaps. Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about the tenement we shared, which seems like a lifetime ago. But I have no regrets.

Colton is the light of my life. I have so many blessings in my life, so much to be thankful for. A loving husband to care for me and a new little one on the way. What more could I ask of life? I feel lucky for all that the Good Lord has chosen to bestow upon me.

Now, for the town. Wyatt and Madison have settled in nicely. Of course, you know that she’s the new school teacher and Wyatt now owns the saloon. Madison wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but they have since settled in and are happy in their new life together. Wyatt cleaned up the Whiskey River Saloon since the likes of Pete McGregor. Truth be told, it’s probably the cleanest saloon in the county now.

It’s strange that no one has heard from Pete McGregor since his departure. If not anything else, I hope he learned something from the experience.

We also have a real, honest-to-goodness princess living in Whiskey River! Dirk Price married a princess right after Christmas. I’m not sure how they met or the particulars, but they seem to be very happy together. She left her title behind and has settled into Whiskey River as Mrs. Gabriella Price. It has a ring to it. Don’t you think? Anyway, I wish them all the happiness in the world.

Preacher Caleb Henley is struggling. The townsfolk are worried about him and try to help him out as much as they can, but he’s just not the same since he lost his wife. He hasn’t smiled much lately. Not that I have seen, anyway. I suppose that between caring for his two small children, the congregation, and the farm, it has taken a toll on him. Colton and I continue to keep him in our prayers. I ask that you do the same. I just wish there were something more that I could do. But I feel comfort in the fact that dear Mrs. Jenkins and the other ladies of the church congregation have been trying to help out with the children. But it’s of little consequence to lift his spirits. The loss of his adoring wife, Jessica, has been a loss for us all indeed.

I don’t want you to worry, but Doc Morgan has me on complete bedrest now. Colton tells me that it’s not only for my good, but for the good of the baby. Although he says nothing about it, I know he worries. I try not to complain, so as not to give him fuel for his worry.

But you, my dear friend, I can confide in. Lately, I’ve been feeling helpless. Colton waits on me hand and foot, and never complains. Although he has never given me cause to feel this way, I feel guilty for Colton having to shoulder the burden of the ranch and the house alone. He hired a few ranch hands, and they have been working out, which is a comfort. I just hope they continue to be of service to Colton and lessen his burden.

So, how are you, dear friend? I miss you so, and wish you would consider moving to Whiskey River. The town is much, much smaller than you’re used to in comparison to New York, but the picturesque landscape of the rolling mountains and the friendly, communal nature of the people make it home.

If you do decide to move here, I would expect you to stay with us, of course, until after the baby is born, or for as long as you like. But if the cries of the baby in the middle of the night become too much for you, Mrs. Jenkins always has room at the boardinghouse.

Alas, I know this is but a dream.

Take care, my friend. I hope this letter finds you well, and I count the days until I can see you again.

Your Loving Friend Forever,

Ella

Mia clutched the letter to her chest as she rocked back and forth, watching the glow of the fire, the only light in the room. Although it hadn’t been that long since she had seen her best friend, it seemed like it had been a lifetime.

Could she ever think of moving to Whiskey River? After all, there was nothing left for her here. Ella would let her live with them for as long as she wanted, but she didn’t want to intrude upon their hospitality indefinitely.

Mia let out a deep breath. Even if she wanted to, she didn’t have the money for train fare, and purchasing a horse and a rig would be even more expensive. Also, the journey would take weeks in what was sure to be snow. No, that would be out of the question.

She couldn’t go, but she couldn’t stay, either. The money that Trent gave her would soon deplete, leaving her with nothing. She could continue to take in more sewing and work at the saloon, but what kind of life would that be? Eventually, she wanted to have a family of her own. Something she hadn’t had in a very long time.

Mia rocked back and forth into the wee hours of the night, considering her options, which were slim at best, when it finally hit her. Ella had been a mail-order bride. And although she didn’t end up marrying the man that she had intended to, everything had worked out. Perhaps God did have a plan for Ella that was bigger than she herself could see.

What if she became a mail-order bride, too? After all, Ella would pick out a suitable man for her. Also, Ella had connections with a matchmaker, who had the resources to set everything up.

Mia jumped from the rocking chair and dashed over to her desk, picked up a quill, and began penning a letter, asking Ella if she could pick out a suitable husband for her.

Mia just hoped she was making the right decision.