Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Debra Holland. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Montana Sky remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Debra Holland, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Patricia Thayer
Slater’s Bride
Welcome to Montana Sky Series Kindle World, where authors write books set in my 1880s “world” of Sweetwater Springs and Morgan’s Crossing, Montana. Aside from providing the backdrop of setting and townsfolk, I haven't contributed to the stories in any way. The authors bring their own unique vision and imagination to the KW books, sometimes tying them into their own series.
Slater’s Bride is written by Patricia Thayer. I met Patricia in 1998, when I joined the Orange County chapter of Romances of America. She was a star author for Harlequin, and I loved her contemporary Western romances. Later, while working on my fantasy series, I joined her plot group. Over the years, we’ve become good friends and have participated in many writers’ functions. We’ve also served together on our chapter’s board.
I hope you enjoy reading Slater’s Bride.
Debra Holland
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Books by Patricia Thayer
Acknowledgements
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have a wonderful team of co-writers who have been with me for over twenty-five years, not only do they help critique my work, they’ve given my support and encouragement.
My special thanks go to:
Linda McLaughlin
Anne Farrell
Linda Prine
And my plot group: Lori Herder, Colleen Fleidner, Linda Carroll-Bradd, Lou Nelson, Jackie Radoumis, Rebecca Anderson and Debra Holland.
My editor: Linda Carroll-Bradd
Michele Smith Gonzalez
My formatter: Grace Coronado
My family: My husband, Steve for his reading skills and his support and love.
And special thanks: Debra Holland for this opportunity.
PROLOGUE
Chicago, March 1887
She should have returned home sooner.
Loretta Drennan slowly walked into the bedroom. She paused and let her eyes adjust to the darkness, wanting nothing more than to rush to the windows, throw back the heavy drapes and allow some light into the dank and dusty space.
No wonder her mother had been sick for so long.
“Loretta…”
Letty heard the faint whisper of her mother’s voice, and she made her way to the large bed. She found a nearly emaciated woman, lying on the bed. She held back a gasp. This couldn’t be her mother—not the always-smiling woman who loved life, whose smile had lit up a room filled with strangers.
The beautiful meatpacking heiress had been the talk of the Chicago society pages, along with her handsome husband John and their two children, John Jr. and Loretta. The couple was well known for their grand parties at the Drennan Estate. That was until John’s sudden death, and her mother’s marriage to Henry Jensen a year later.
That day, Letty’s world had been turned upside down. Her older brother, Johnny, had left home, and Letty was sent away to boarding school, St. Mary's Academy for Women. After graduation, she retained employment at the school and had been living ever since in one of the dormitories. She'd missed her mother, but she felt like an outsider whenever she visited the home of her birth. Now, seeing the woman's declining health... it frightened her so.
“Oh, Mother.”
A thin hand wrapped in rosary beads reached out to her daughter. “I’m sorry, my child. I never meant for this to happen.”
“I’m here now. I will move back home and take care of you.” Letty looked around, feeling the hair on her neck prickle. Since Henry and his son, Hank, moved into the house, she never had the ability to speak to her mother alone. Today, both men were at the plant.
“There’s no time.” Elisabeth’s voice was breathy. “You must not stay here.”
“No, I won’t leave you again.”
The woman squeezed her hand. “Yes, you must. You need to find Johnny. Tell him...tell him that I’m sorry, and that I love him.” Her voice grew stronger, more determined. “He needs to claim his rightful place in the company his grandfather and father founded.” Her mother’s grip tightened and the wooden beads dug into Letty’s skin. “I can’t fight him off much longer.”
Letty held her panic down, but felt a shiver run through her. “Mother, you’ll get better.” Tears filled her eyes. “I’ll help you.”
Elisabeth Drennan’s eyes widened in fear. “No, you can’t do this alone. Go find Johnny, now. I managed to hide some jewels and a little money to help get you away. Ask Maggie.”
Maggie had been the housekeeper for years. “Of course, Mother, but I’ll wait until you’re better.”
Her mother rose and cried, “No!” She collapsed against the pillow, working to catch her breath. “You must leave today, before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
Elisabeth blinked her eyes against the tears. “My beautiful daughter. You’re so much like your father. And I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” She stroked her daughter’s face. “I love you.” Her hand fell away. “Now, go. Promise you’ll find Johnny and be safe.”
“Yes, Mother. I will go.” Letty kissed her mother’s cheek, praying it wasn’t for the last time. Holding back her tears, she finally released her mother’s fragile hand and quickly went to the door. She looked back once more at her mother, who urged her away with a wave of her hand.
Letty had no choice but to be the dutiful daughter. Hurrying down the stairs, she found Maggie in the kitchen and fell into the housekeeper’s arms, crying.
“Don’t cry, child,” the older woman coaxed. “This is not what your mama wanted for you. She doesn’t want you to be a prisoner here. So you must go.”
“How can I leave her, Maggie?” Letty cried.
“It is the only way, child. Find your brother, and he will know what to do to help her, to help your family. God have mercy on her soul.” Maggie blessed herself. “Your mother wants more for you and Johnny.” She handed her an envelope. “She wants you to give this letter to your brother.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
Suddenly, the front door opened.
Letty heard men’s voices.
Maggie looked terrified. “He’s in a town called Morgan’s Crossing in the Montana territory.” The older woman walked to the sink, reached underneath and pulled out a large, dark leather valise. “Here, this is all I could manage to gather for you.” She reached into her apron pocket. “Here is a train ticket.”
They hugged goodbye.
“Go with God, Loretta Drennan. I will pray for your safe journey,” Maggie whispered, then pushed Letty out the back door. She headed for the train station to find the one person who could help her and her mother.
CHAP
TER ONE
March 1887
The two and a half day train trip had been long and tiring, and Letty hadn’t been able to sleep at all. A shared bench seat was uncomfortable, to say the least, but she’d managed to attach herself to a family for safety. All Letty had to do was think of her ill mother, and she would endure any discomfort.
The near-spring weather hadn’t cooperated, so she couldn’t open the window to let some fresh air into the crowded Pullman car, but from her window seat she managed to see the changing countryside. That wasn’t as pleasant as she thought. For endless miles and miles, carcasses lined the prairie—the result of the worst winter of all times, killing off livestock all throughout the plains. She’d never been exposed to this kind of cruelty. She closed her eyes to the scene and turned her thoughts to something more pleasant.
Past memories began to fill her head, recalling her childhood and growing up in a privileged family. Drennan Meatpacking Company had a private train car in which the owner and his family rode in luxury whenever they traveled, usually to the East Coast. Of course her father, John Drennan, had still been alive. Her life was much different then, too.
Sadness washed over her as she remembered her family. Their big house was always filled with laughter, until the day of the accident and her father’s death nearly six years ago. She’d been fifteen, and her brother barely twenty-one.
Johnny tried to step into his father’s shoes. He wanted to take over the responsibility of running the company and act as head of the family. He’d been groomed for the job, but the then plant manager, Henry Jensen, made sure he didn’t stay around. Mother had let it happen. She had also made the decision to have Mr. Jensen continue to run the company. That drove her brother away from his own family.
Letty had fought with her mother for siding with her new husband over her son. Their past five years had been quarrelsome, and Letty chose to stay away from her childhood home. She gained employment at St. Mary’s and continued her education. Sadness washed over her. She’d hated that she hadn’t tried to work out her differences with her mother. Until just a few days ago, Letty hadn’t seen her in months.
Now, Elisabeth Drennan Jensen had sent her away, but for a different reason. It was for her protection. A tear ran down Letty’s cheek, and she quickly brushed the moisture away. She might never see her mother again, but staying in Chicago wasn’t safe. Maybe it never would be for her, or her brother.
Letty had always suspected that the reason Henry Jensen married the young widow Drennan was for her money and a better station in life.
Letty didn’t want any part of the man, or his son, Hank Jr., and hoped they’d never learn where she’d gone in Montana. Maggie had warned her the day she’d left, given her mother’s condition, there was the possibility her stepfather would find a way to take everything.
Thanks to Mother’s loyal housekeeper, Letty had been able to get some money and a letter from Johnny stating his location. Although she hated to leave her mother, she was headed west to find her brother. Some place called Morgan’s Crossing.
Would Johnny be happy to see his kid sister?
She managed a smile and inspected her appearance. She looked like a little ragamuffin after nearly fifteen hundred miles of dust and soot. She brushed off her dark maroon, traveling suit. The first thing she would do when she arrived would be to have a long bath. She turned on the cramped bench seat and rearranged her heavy skirt to get comfortable. At least the two layers of petticoats had insulated her from the chilly train car.
She smiled, thinking of the stories she’d read about the West. Apparently, some women dressed in trousers, buckskin pants with fringe and even carried rifles. She glanced around the train car to see several men wearing work clothes, cowboy hats and guns strapped to their hips.
Letty causally adjusted her small felt hat adorned with bright plumes and patted her hair to make sure no combs had fallen out. Maybe she was a little overdressed, but she hadn’t had the time to buy appropriate clothing for a trip west.
The whistle sounded as the train slowed and stopped, and the conductor announced the arrival at the next stop, which was Sower Creek. Several people stood, including the Phillips family she’d shared time and conversation with for most of the trip.
Letty hugged the woman goodbye and watched the husband and wife escort their two children off. Although she’d be alone, she would have more space. She glanced out the window to see another small town with several wooden structures along a single dirt street.
This definitely wasn’t Chicago.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
She turned to the aisle and looked up at the tall man and into a pair of startling blue eyes. She swiftly became mesmerized by the man’s handsome face, his strong jawline and the deep cleft in his chin. Then, realizing she was staring, she blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, did you say something?”
The man smiled. “I asked if this seat is taken?” He pointed to the one across from her.
Her stomach did a sudden somersault. “No, no it is not.”
Letty sat straighter, allowing his large frame to take the bench seat facing her.
He placed his travel bag beside him. With a polite nod, he leaned back, pulled his cowboy hat lower to cover his face, and folded his arms over his chest.
She turned her attention toward the window. Obviously the man didn’t want to carry on a conversation, which was good, because she shouldn’t talk to strangers. But his presence kept drawing her back for another look.
Trying not to be rude, she stole a glance or two over his muscular frame, the broad chest covered by a light blue western-cut shirt and a leather vest. He’d removed a sheepskin coat, revealing his huge arms. Her gaze couldn’t stop the appraisal as she looked at the size of his hands and his long, tapered fingers. Her examination continued to his legs, covered in dark denim pants and scuffed cowboy boots.
Paul Slater shifted in his seat, feeling the woman’s assessment. It was strange to be on the other end of an examination. He was usually the one who did the looking. Although the woman was beautiful, he had no energy to carry on a conversation. Besides, she was a little too Eastern for his taste. Well-to-do ladies wanted nothing to do with ranchers and miners living on the untamed land.
For now, he only wanted to get back to the ranch and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Mac could handle the herd for few more days. He’d earned the time getting Brutus to his new home and made a tidy sum by making sure he was delivered safe and sound.
Ten minutes later, the train jerked as it pulled out of the station and the woman’s skirt-covered legs made contact with his.
She gasped.
Paul thought it would be best if he acted like he was asleep, not to embarrass the lady’s sensibilities.
“Tickets. Have your tickets ready,” the stocky conductor called out as he strolled through the car. “Tickets.”
Without sitting up, Paul pulled out his ticket from his pocket and placed it on his bag. He started to drift off with the steady sound of the wheels on the rails as a lullaby when he heard the woman ask, “When will we be coming into Morgan’s Crossing?”
“We don’t stop there, miss,” the conductor answered. “Sweetwater Springs is the closest you’ll get.”
“That can’t be. I was told I could get a connection to Morgan’s Crossing.”
“There is a teamster service that goes there every other day with mail and supplies.”
Okay, he wasn’t going to get any sleep. Paul removed his hat and sat up. “Excuse me, ma’am. There isn’t any train to Morgan’s Crossing, yet. You could go by horse and buggy, but it’s a two-day journey.”
The conductor added, “Maybe you could hire someone to take you.” He walked off down the aisle, taking tickets from the new passengers.
Paul told himself to mind his own business, this didn’t concern him, but how could he? He locked his gaze on the pretty blonde with big brown eyes and opened his mouth, “So, you’re headed to Morgan’s Crossin
g?”
She nodded. “I thought I was, but I’m not sure. What is Sweetwater Springs like, Mr…?”
He tipped his hat. “Paul Slater, ma’am.”
“Letty Drennan.”
So, she was reluctant to share her name. “Well, Miss Drennan. My partner and I own a small cattle ranch just outside Morgan’s Crossing. We raise cattle, and I just sold one of our breeding bulls. I’m on my way home.”
“You have any idea how I can get from Sweetwater Springs to Morgan’s Crossing?”
Paul eyed her curiously. Was she one of those mail order brides? Even their town mayor, Michael Morgan, had sent for his own wife, Prudence. Surely, this woman’s future husband would come to meet her. “Like I said, it’s nearly a day and a half ride, Miss Drennan. Isn’t someone meeting you?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t know I’m coming.”
Not a good idea to surprise someone, especially when you’re a pretty woman with big doe eyes and a full, tempting mouth. He shook away his thoughts. “Well, the only thing I can suggest is you send a telegram to the mining office there and have someone come for you, or you’re welcome to ride with me tomorrow morning.”
Those deep brown eyes of hers widened even more. “Oh, I couldn’t do that, Mr. Slater. I thank you for the offer, but I don’t even know you.”
He leaned back. Good, she was cautious. A woman traveling alone wasn’t a smart idea in the first place. “Then I suggest that you stay at the widow Murphy’s boarding house and send word with me. I’ll inform whomever you’re planning to see. What’s his name?”
“John Drennan.”
Paul frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of the man. Is he your bridegroom?”
“Oh, no, he’s my brother. Are you sure you haven’t heard of John McCreary Drennan Jr.?”
Paul froze. “You’re Johnny Mac’s sister?”
Montana Sky: Slater's Bride (Kindle Worlds) Page 1
