Page 6 of Val (Wild Rose Ridge #1)

Chapter Five

By the time Val and Preacher Sutton made it back to the hotel, she was more than a little cold. Her feet were like ice, and she was starting to shiver something awful. Preacher Sutton obviously noticed as he guided her into the dining room and stood her before the fireplace.

“Would you like me to get you some hot tea or coffee?” he offered.

“Yes,” she said, teeth chattering. “That would be nice.”

He gave her a concerned look and cocked his head. “Are you going to be all right, Miss O’Malley?” His voice was gentle, kind, and a tingle went up Val’s spine despite her shivering.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to warm up.”

“Very well,” he said. He turned on his heel and left.

Marianne and Elinore were speaking to their grooms and some of Beatrice Schulte’s friends.

Val shook her head as she watched them. Part of her felt sorry for the brides.

Those Busy Bees would be in their business constantly if given half the chance.

But there was nothing she could do about it except give as much advice to the brides as she could before she returned to Chicago.

“Four weeks! Why did I volunteer for this? Two weeks wouldn’t have been so bad!” she muttered to herself.

Yes, well, you know you wanted to go! Augusta’s voice chimed in her head.

Besides, it’s a lovely holiday for you, right? Josie’s voice joined in.

Val’s hands balled into fists as her shoulders hunched. “Oh, be quiet, the lot of you! You’re going to drive me round the bend.”

She opened her eyes, not realizing she’d closed them. “Look at me, you’ve got me talking to myself in a public place. People are going to stare, or worse, they’ll want to lock me up.” She shook her head and shivered again.

Preacher Sutton approached with a wry smile on his face. “Who are you talking to?” he asked, handing her a cup and saucer.

“Oh, bless you, Preacher Sutton!” she said, avoiding the question. “Hot tea, just what I need.” She took the cup and saucer with shaky hands, then had a sip. “You even put a wee bit of sugar in it, just the way I like it.”

He shrugged, still giving her an odd look. “I took a guess.” He gave her an expectant look.

Val rolled her eyes. “I talk to myself sometimes. It’s nothing, really. I’ve always done it, ever since I was a child. It’s how I work my problems out, you know?”

“I don’t, actually, because I don’t talk to myself,” he said with a casual shrug. “However, I’ve written things out. I journal, you see.”

“Oh, you keep a diary, do you?” She gave him a polite smile, hoping he would leave. He didn’t.

“I do, if you can believe that,” he said easily. “Very interesting. Well, I suppose I’ll be getting home now.”

“Are you going to talk to anyone else here?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine talking to you, Miss O’Malley. You intrigue me.”

Her cheeks heated. “Is it because I talk to myself?”

“You sound as if you’re talking to someone else.”

“Oh, that.” She heaved a sigh and took another sip of tea. She might as well tell him. “It’s the sisters.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “The what?”

“The sisters. My employers. They’re driving me round the bend. I hear them in my head. I know, I know,” she said, holding up one hand. “It sounds silly, but…”

Preacher Sutton laughed. “Not silly at all, I assure you.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I hear Beatrice Schulte’s voice in my head sometimes when I’m writing my sermons. She likes making suggestions about what I should preach on. A lot of suggestions.”

Val snorted in amusement. “Oh, I see. And does she get upset when you don’t preach on those suggestions?” She raised both eyebrows at him.

He took on a horrified look. “You have no idea.”

They shared a smile, then he glanced at the refreshment table. “Would you like something to eat? I know you’re hungry. I could fix you a plate.”

She stared at him a moment.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“No, not at all. It’s just… I’m not used to someone taking care of me. I usually get it myself.”

“I’ll do it.” He gave her a slight bow, then took off again.

Val sighed as her body temperature finally began to come up. She wasn’t shivering as much anymore, but occasionally her teeth chattered, and she’d have to watch that.

Well, isn’t he a handsome piece of work? Josie’s voice popped into her head.

“Oh aye he is!” Val said out loud, then caught herself and slapped a hand over her mouth.

Go ahead, admit it! came Augusta’s voice. He intrigues you, Valentine, doesn’t he?

“Oh, hush!” she blurted, drawing the attention of several people nearby.

She gave them a polite smile and shuddered.

Taking another sip of tea, she let the hot brew warm her and hoped whatever Preacher Sutton was putting on her plate was just as hot.

Maybe it was the cold addling her brain that had her talking more to herself than normal. Yes, that explained it.

After a moment, Preacher Sutton returned with a plate in his hand. He offered her a fork and a napkin. “I got you a little bit of everything, not being sure what you’d like.”

She passed off her cup and saucer to him. “I thank you. Oh goodness, this looks good.” She said a quick blessing over her food and started to eat.

“There’s an empty table over there. Why don’t we sit down?”

She nodded, reminding herself to try not to shovel food into her mouth. They reached the table, and he pulled the chair out for her, helping her sit.

“Let me take your coat, Miss O’Malley. It’s drenched. No wonder you’re freezing.”

She stood again, a mouthful of food, and quickly chewed as he helped her slip out of the coat. Val looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, you’re very kind, Preacher Sutton.”

“And thank you for bringing such lovely young ladies to our town to marry.” He took the seat across from her.

Val stared at him a moment. “Aren’t you going to eat?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, having a plate of food in front of her.

“In a moment. I have to say, this is going to boost morale around here. Are you thinking of bringing another batch of brides?” His eyes shot to Beatrice and her friends. They were speaking to the yet-unwed brides. Val followed his gaze, then looked at him.

“Let me get through this trip, Preacher Sutton. I’m having to stay here longer than I’d like. Who knows what those sisters will do in my absence?”

He chuckled. “The Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride Company. How many sisters are there?”

“Three.”

“And that’s enough?”

“Goodness gracious, yes. The trouble they get into. They’re older, you see.

There’s Augusta, she’s the eldest, a little hard of hearing.

Then there’s Margaret. Sensible but a hopeless romantic.

One keeps having to bring her down to earth.

And Josie,” she rolled her eyes. “She can be quite sarcastic and cutting when she wants to. She’s witty, that one.

And they are always, always getting themselves into trouble.

Some of the matches they’ve tried to make were horrendous until I came along.

They haven’t a clue about people and what they want.

” She sat back in her chair. “Of course I know. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be working for those three.

Someone has to keep them in line. I can only imagine what they’re doing in my absence. ”

She picked up her fork. “Are you going to get a plate or not?”

He laughed and left the table. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him head for the food, then stared at her own plate. What does he think of me now?

Well, I can only imagine, Josie’s voice chimed.

“Oh, shut up!” Val shot back.

A miner passing her table gave her a sharp look.

“I wasn’t saying anything, missy,” he groused.

“Foolish female!” He sauntered toward the food, and Val rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to bury her face in her hands.

She was embarrassing herself more and more.

How was she going to get through the next four weeks?

It wasn’t long before Preacher Sutton returned and sat. His plate was piled higher than hers. “Looks like I’m not the only one that’s hungry,” she remarked.

“No, you’re not,” he said, his mouth full. “And I don’t get cooking like this very often, unless of course I come here to eat, or eat at one of the other establishments in town.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she said with a nod. “There’s no Mrs. Sutton.”

“I’m afraid not.”

She studied him a moment. “Why didn’t you send for a bride? Not ready to marry?”

He shrugged as he chewed, then swallowed. “No.”

Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Why not?”

He stopped eating and set down his fork. Uh-oh. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. Preacher Sutton gave her a gentle smile. “Because I haven’t found the right woman. It’s not like I haven’t looked. I tried to find a wife in Leavenworth, Kansas.”

Val squeaked. She’d heard about Leavenworth; it was a rough town full of gunslingers and outlaws. At least that’s what she’d been told. “Well, why not send off for a bride?”

“I don’t want to do that.” He gave a little shrug. “I’d like to meet someone here, get to know them, fall in love, and marry. It’s how most people do it.”

She stared at the table a moment. “It takes a lot of backbone for a woman to become a mail-order bride. The same can be said for the men who send for them.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Which is why I haven’t sent for one. Call me a coward, but…”

She laughed. “You’re no coward, wanting to fall in love the conventional way. But how long do you plan to court a woman? And are there any women around here to court?”

“That is the problem,” he said. “There aren’t.

I suggested to Mrs. Schulte, when she first came up with the idea of getting some mail-order brides to come, that she might also think about just having women come in a large group and let nature take its course.

But unfortunately, that might cause too many problems, and she and I had to agree on that score.

” He picked up his fork and started eating again.

Val could just imagine the ruckus that would be caused by a passel of brides being dropped off by the Merry Jo, unable to escape again for four weeks.

But then, if that did happen, and the brides were under the correct supervision and well-guarded, perhaps nature could take its course after all.

Providing they had a group of men interested in marrying.

“Hmm. You’re thinking, aren’t you?” he asked from across the table.

She gave a little start. “Does it show?”

“Yes, it does.” He smiled. “That far-away look in your eye, the fact that you’re not eating, and I know you’re still hungry.” He smiled again and took another bite of food.

“Well, you gave me something to think about, that’s all.

” She took a bite herself and almost rolled her eyes in bliss.

“Mr. Sampson is a good cook,” she commented after swallowing.

She also knew he was protective of his kitchen.

She’d learned that when Clara tried to take it over to bake her cookies.

“Indeed. He is good.” He watched her a moment, then slowly took another bite.

Val couldn’t help but watch him too as her belly fluttered. Gracious! What was happening? Was she getting warm? Thank goodness for that! Her feet were still cold though. Would his good looks and manners warm those up too? Merciful heaven, what was she thinking?!

Val forced her gaze from him and got back to the business of eating. She was leaving in four weeks. The last thing she needed to do was get sweet on the town preacher.