Mail Order Bride and Her Farmer (#5, Brides of Montana Western Romance) (A Historical Romance Book): Brides of Montana Western Romance, #5
By Leah Laurens
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About this ebook
The only thing harder than being a saloon girl is finding a husband...
Alice's life isn't what she'd dreamed it would be.
Working as a saloon girl has stolen the life right out of her.
She has no family and few friends.
Her life is hard and dangerous.
The only way she can escape is to get married.
But what man would want a saloon girl for a bride?
When she sees Henry's ad for a mail order bride, she thinks her problems are over.
He's the brother of her only friends but she knows she can't tell them what she's planning.
Her friends would never understand.
She must keep the truth from everyone, even her new husband.
If he knew what she was, he would never want her.
But how can she hide the truth from him forever?
Becoming a mail order bride is the worst idea she's ever had.
Lost and broken, now she must go back to the only home she's ever known:
The saloon.
But men there are dangerous. They want to hurt her.
Especially Jed Willard.
The only one who can save her is Henry but he doesn't want her anymore.
Or does he?
Is it really too late for them, or can even a saloon girl find true love?
Leah Laurens
Leah Laurens is a multi-voiced writer who always been a lover of historical romance novels since young, especially that of Western Romance. A romance set in the American West, Leah’s novels involve characters that are strong in character, each with a strong personality and with different pursuits in life. The Hero has his own adventures in life that he wants to pursue, the Heroine learning to survive and conquer the harsh challenges sometimes. Despite the many differences, there is somehow a destiny the hero and heroine must fulfil by meeting each other and to fall in love. Through Leah’s writings, she hopes to inspire many who are waiting, questioning about love in a sometimes cynical world. That there will always be that silver linings in the clouds which one sees in their life. Some of Leah’s inspirations came from authors like Linda Lael Miller, Harper Sloan.
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Mail Order Bride and Her Farmer (#5, Brides of Montana Western Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) - Leah Laurens
prologue
* * *
Helena,
Montana 1882
Come over here and give me a kiss,
Jed Willard said, reaching for Alice. His stinky breath blew hot against her face, making her eyes water. She jumped out of his grasp and bumped the card table, knocking over Robert Crup's drink. The amber liquid raced toward the center of the table and the four men sitting around it jumped up, pulling their cards with them.
Look what you've done, you trollop!
Do something!
For crying out loud, Alice, hurry up and clean up your mess!
Elmer Perkins, her boss, hovered nearby, making no move to help her. He’d never think to yell at Jed for making her jump instead of her for jumping.
She sighed and went to retrieve a towel from the bar. Her skirt swished against her legs as she moved but the sound was lost in the noise of the saloon.
Elmer Perkins' saloon had gone through several name changes in the years since Elmer had bought it: Elmer's Saloon, Perkin's Saloon, The Saloon, and finally just Elmer's, which was what it was today. Alice Tucker did not care about the name changes, though Elmer himself seemed deeply concerned by them, as he was about every aspect of his business. He had spent the last ten years of his life buying up saloons and making them profitable; he owned at least three of the five saloons in town.
Alice had worked at the saloon for almost as long as Elmer had owned it and thought that the names had little to do with the saloon's success. She was quite certain it had much more to do with the cheap, watered-down whiskey Elmer touted as the best in Helena
and marked up thirty percent, and the used-up saloon girls he touted as the prettiest in Montana
—also marked up thirty percent.
Alice did not count herself amongst the prettiest girls in any state or territory, and she thought the only reason the men here did was because they were always drunk. She pushed a strand of platinum hair back behind her ear and returned with a towel and a fresh drink, which would be taken out of her salary. She wasn't sure how much that mattered, though; Elmer had not paid her in a fortnight. She would have to speak to him about it soon, and she was dreading it.
I'm so sorry, Jed,
she said as she bent over, her low-cut dress revealing far more than she was comfortable with. You'd have thought that after spending seven years as a saloon girl, three of them here at Elmer's, she'd have gotten used to the clothes and the looks but she never had and probably never would. She had simply learned to fake it. Whenever discomfort struck her, she smiled. The wider her smile, the more uncomfortable she was. Right now, she was showing nearly every tooth in her mouth.
She felt Jed's hand rest on the small of her back. This time, she did not brush him off; she let it lie there and pretended it was the hand of a better man. Someone she actually cared for. Someone like Henry Ackerman.
She had met Henry at his brother's wedding. Being friends with the bride, as well as Henry's sisters, she had garnered an invitation to the small farming town event. She and Henry had spent the night dancing despite the ridiculous costume he was wearing—apparently, he had lost a bet and had been forced to wear a woman's dress to the wedding, including a full petticoat. She had not cared though, not when he'd spoken to her with such affection. There was kindness in his words... in his eyes.
When they had stopped to catch their breath, she had seen the worried looks on the faces of his sisters, women she counted as friends; the only friends she truly had. Despite their friendship with her, Sarah, Harriet, and Carrie did not like seeing Alice dance with their brother. Or perhaps it was that they did not like the way he and Alice had been looking at each other.
It had hurt to see those expressions. She knew what they meant and had thought that of all the people she had met in her life, these three women would be the last to judge her. She had honestly believed they would not mind the small flirtation she was engaging in with Henry but she had been wrong.
She had worried that if she did not stop dancing with Henry, one or all of them would tell him her profession. They would not mean to hurt her; they were good women but they were also protective of their brothers. It was one of the qualities she admired about them. She decided it would be better to remain a mystery to Henry rather than have him know she was a fallen woman, so she had feigned lightheadedness and stopped dancing with him.
When the party ended that night, she had said goodbye to Henry without any further intention of seeing him again but then he had written to her. Just two lovely letters full of sweet nothings that had made clear his desire to see her again. Alice had filed these letters away without writing him so much as a word in return. Henry deserved better.
Then again, sometimes at night when she lay alone in her bed, she thought that she could make him happy. After all, what woman would be better at farm life than her? She had spent the last several years working with animals of all varieties. She smiled at the secret joke and fought the urge to jump again as Jed's hand moved lower on her backside, squeezing the flesh beneath her dress.
Give me a kiss, Alice,
he said again.
How about another round instead?
she asked. For the whole table?
There were cheers at the suggestion. Stanley told her to bring the bottle. Elmer would like that. He was always trying to get the girls to sell more booze. She hoped they had not thought she meant to buy them all a drink herself but so what if they did? It would be their own drunken foolishness that had led them to believe such a silly thing. As if any self-respecting saloon girl would waste her hard-earned money on liquor for men like this bunch.
Bring a glass for yourself when you come back,
Jed said.
Alice nodded and caught Elmer's smile. He was already moving to the bar to pour her the tea she would be drinking but he would charge Jed for whiskey. The bottle he picked up was only two-thirds full. She watched him fill it up the rest of the way with more tea before handing it to her.
If they say anything about the taste,
he told her, tell them that's what fine whiskey tastes like. Smooth. Easy on the throat.
She nodded and took the bottle to the table. It would take nearly the whole bottle to get them drunk, as watered down as it was, but then they were halfway there already so she doubted they would even notice.
A couple hours later, Alice had made the rounds with the rest of the patrons, dancing with a few men and singing one song at Jed's request. He pulled her toward the stairs and the special rooms that Elmer kept ready for his guests.
No,
she said, yanking her hand out of his. I'll get Virginia for you if you'd like to go upstairs.
I don't want Virginia.
Her cheeks colored. Her smile widened. You should know by now that I don't go upstairs, Jed. Though I'm happy to stay down here and dance a little with you.
She placed her hand behind his neck and rubbed lightly, trying not to vomit. It would be easier to be friendly than to stomp about and tell him to get lost.
I know your rules, and I don't care,
Jed said. It's time you start breaking those rules, don't you think?
His hand brushed against her cheek. His calloused fingers scraped her skin unpleasantly. She shivered and Jed's smile turned up. He thought she was enjoying this.
No,
she said, her voice soft. "I don't think." She stepped out of his grasp and bumped into Elmer, who was standing behind her.
You go on up to a room, Jed. Take the third one from the left; it's the nicest one. Alice will be up in a minute.
Alice shot Elmer a look as Jed made his way up the rickety stairs to the second floor, and Elmer steered her toward the back room where they could speak in relative privacy.
Now, Alice, you know I like you,
Elmer said, his grin too wide, too toothy, too fake, much like Alice's own.
Sure, Elmer. I know that,
she replied, an almost identical smile plastered on her face.
Good. So, do me this favor, okay? Go on upstairs with Jed. He's one of my best customers and he likes you.
Alice licked her lips. No. I don't go upstairs. You know that.
She paused, waiting to see what he would say.
His brows drew tightly together. I'll pay you double what I pay the other girls.
Ha!
she scoffed, louder than she meant to. You haven't paid me anything in two weeks, now you're gonna pay me double? I'm not a fool.
Elmer's eyes darkened. Of course, you're not. You're a saloon girl. And it's time you climb down off your high horse and start acting like one. Every other girl here does the little extras that customers ask of them. Everyone except you.
Alice bristled at the remark. That's not true. Rachel won't go upstairs. Neither will Isabella or Hannah. This isn't a brothel, Elmer; it's a saloon. The difference may not be obvious to you but it is to me. I won't do it.
Then you won't have a job,
Elmer snapped.
A flash of fear filled Alice. She had been on the streets before; she did not want to go back. For a brief moment, she thought of Henry. Not just his face this time but the ad he had placed for a mail order bride.
She had spotted it in the paper just two weeks ago. Alice had the feeling that if she had responded to the letters he'd sent her, he might never have needed to post his ad. She was not sure that she would have had the power to resist had he asked her the one question she was certain never to hear from any of the men in the saloon—will you marry me?
Well?
Elmer said, his voice growing angrier the longer she took to respond.
She could not go back to the streets, that was for certain. She would rather die than live that life again. The years she had spent on them as a teenager had nearly destroyed her. If her parents were living, would they not prefer she had a roof over her head? A way to pay her bills?
Pay me what you owe me,
Alice said, pressing her lips together, trying to think of a way out of this.
Yes, of course,
said Elmer impatiently. He went to his desk and removed a slip of paper, scratched out something on it, and handed her a promissory note for thirty dollars. That's everything I owe you for the last two weeks. As for tonight... do as I say and you shall see another thirty.
He produced a second promissory note and dangled it in front of her like bait on a fishing line. She resented it, yet she could not stop looking at it.
Her eyes widened. Thirty dollars for one night?
No,
Elmer laughed. "Like you, I'm not a fool. The extra thirty shall cover the next week, and not just Jed. For thirty dollars, I expect you to pay extra attention to any man who wishes it. He took the note and pushed it into her other hand.
Consider this an advance. Should any of the men you entertain upstairs choose to tip you, that will be yours to keep in whole."
Alice licked her lips. An extra thirty dollars could buy her a new hat. New shoes. Her feet ached all day in the old things she wore, and her coat had holes in it. Elmer was happy to buy her and the other girls as many dresses as they wished, provided they were low-cut and did not fall too far below the knees but real clothes, respectable clothes, were harder to come by. The mere consideration of the offer made her stomach roll. Her body tried to heave and she pushed it back, taking deep breaths.
There were only two options before her: accept Elmer's offer, or see if it wasn't too late to accept Henry's. He might have had dozens of responses to his ad by now. Could she really risk the chance the offer would still be open? Still, she had checked the papers again only two days ago; his ad had still been there. If he had found someone, he would not continue paying for its run.
She bit her bottom lip. Henry's sisters would not approve but they would not have to know. At least not right away. She would tell them later, after she and Henry were already married. Perhaps when they saw how happy she was making Henry, they would forgive her for her slight deception. Perhaps they would even agree to withhold the truth of her past life from Henry, though deep down she knew she was asking for the impossible. Still... could God not make the impossible possible? She would pray on it the whole way to Indiana if only he would help her now.
She tucked the promissory note Elmer had just given her—the one she had already earned—into her dress. She ripped the other one to shreds. Goodbye, Elmer,
she said and left the saloon.
* * *
chapter 1
* * *
Valley Glen,
Indiana, 1882
Henry Ackerman reread the letter he had just received. He was certain that he had somehow misunderstood. Alice Tucker had not responded to either of the two letters he had written her after his brother's wedding a few months before, and he had thought her simply not interested. He had not been offended—much. The night they had met, he'd been enchanted with her, she had been like no other woman he'd ever met. He had thought she'd felt similarly but weddings have a funny way of making people see things in a rosy light. What might be true one night may not be true the next. Too much wine had that effect on people. She had returned to Helena and he had not heard from her since.
She wants to wed,
he muttered to himself. He was standing alone in the farmhouse he shared with his brother, Tom, and Tom's wife, Bia. I cannot believe it.
His voice felt scratchy as it came out of him, like he had not had anything to drink in days. He licked his lips as his heart beat faster in his chest. A broad smile broke out on his face.
When Henry had placed the ad, he had never dreamed that Alice would answer it. He had simply decided that it was time he got himself a bride. In truth, it had been Alice who had steered him in that direction, though he had never told her that and doubted he ever would. Meeting her that night, so many months ago it seemed now, he'd begun to picture his life as a married man. As a husband and father. The thoughts had crept in on him slowly, mostly as he lay trying to sleep, then had begun to enter his mind during daylight as well. She had failed to respond to his love letters but the thoughts of marriage had persisted nevertheless.
Tom had a wife now, and each of his sisters had their husbands. He saw what they had and realized how much he longed for a family of his own. Bia was with child now. He longed for one of his own one day. More than that, though, he longed to leave the farmhouse behind.
Small town life had never been meant for him. He dreamed of bigger things and better places. Of cities tall and wide. He'd heard they had some buildings as tall as ten stories now. Someone had told him they were building things even bigger in New York and Chicago but he suspected they were only fooling him. He could hardly imagine ten stories, let alone anything higher.
If it had not been for Tom, he would have left this farm long ago but he could not leave his only brother, especially after Tom's accident. His leg had been maimed in a plowing accident and Tom could not have carried on the work at the farm alone. But now, Tom had Bia. He was no longer alone. Some of Bia's family had even helped to bring their dilapidated farm back to life last season, with a promise to return this coming season.
Bia was a wonderful woman. She was an Indian with long black hair and dark eyes, and as open-minded as Henry liked to think he was, it had taken him some time to accept her as his sister. Her Indian heritage had come as a shock to him but she was a good person and Henry was glad Tom had her.
Before he could leave, though, Henry needed to finish carving out his career as a writer. One article in a periodical was hardly enough to make a living on; he needed more articles, more periodicals, a novel. Once he was established, he could write from anywhere. The world would be open to him. He might even take his new wife and leave America, travel to faraway lands he had only ever heard of. Italy or France, maybe even South America. His heart thumped hard at the thought of a tropical paradise, and even harder when he realized that the woman beside him during these adventures would be Alice Tucker. He would gather together the bride token at once and mail it to her along with a ticket and his reply. Of course, he chose her as his bride. Even if he'd had a thousand women to pick from, he would still have chosen her.
Tom came in from outside just then, Bia at his side. The cold wind blew in; January was always harsh on Indiana farms. The breeze stung his cheeks and make his eyes tear. The door shut just as quickly as it had opened. Tom shook himself off and went to the fire. His dark golden hair, so much like Henry's own, shined in the firelight. Sometimes, when Henry looked at his brother, he saw the boy who had raised him instead of the man Tom had become. Although only five years older than Henry, Tom had raised him from the time of their parents' deaths when Henry was eleven.
Bia moved to the kitchen. Tea?
she asked.
Tom shuddered and nodded. Henry nodded as well.
Thank you,
Henry said, then took a gulp of air. I have news.