Hannah

by Patricia Pacjac Carroll

  Hannah

  Bridgette’s Bridal Registry

  Book 3

  Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Hannah Book 3 of Bridgette’s Bridal Registry

  Copyright © February 2020

  Published by Patricia PacJac Carroll

  ALL rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, (except for inclusion in reviews), disseminated or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or audio. Including photocopying, recording, or in any information storage and retrieval system, or the Internet/World Wide Web without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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  Brigette’s Bridal Registry ~ Series of Second Chances and Mail-Order Brides.

  Jericho is book 1 in the new series.

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XDC1DX8/

  Jericho ~ A stained woman, trying to find her wings. A reformed outlaw trying to make his second chance a reality. Together, can they forget the past and forge a future together?

  https://www.amazon.com//dp/B082S7WYJT

  Florence ~ She wasn’t going to be a spinster. Enlisting, as a mail-order bride, was her only chance at getting a family of her own. Jay had never been responsible, but after getting a second chance at life and seeing Florence, he went wholeheartedly after making a go at a decent life. There was just so much to do, and that list in his pocket was growing by the day. And then there was the moose in the kitchen and four orphans.

  A gentle, sweet romance set in 1880s Montana.

  Hannah ~ She escapes an arranged marriage to French aristocracy by signing up as one of Bridgette’s mail-order brides. On the run from her father’s detectives, she is confident that she can handle any man, and if Hannah doesn’t like the groom, she’ll decline the marriage.

  Chad is free from jail and has no desire to shackle himself to some woman, but then it is one of the demands in the agreement Bridgette had him sign.

  Get ready for a wild ride with these two. A clean and wholesome Happily-ever-after.

  Evalyn ~ She’s full of life and goodness, but where is her groom?

  Bridgette’s Bridal Registry is a spinoff of the Montana Brides of Solomon’s Valley. You can find them here > https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07SQBCLXK

  Hannah

  Bridgette’s Bridal Registry

  Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Hannah Durand ran behind the tobacco shop, pressed against the building, and eyed the two boys taking turns puffing on a stogie. She looked up the alley for her father’s detectives, and after being sure that she didn’t see them, Hannah stared at the boys. “Don’t call out, and I won’t tell on you.”

  They nodded, although the kids were already beginning to look a bit green. Hannah grinned as she remembered her attempt at smoking one of the dirty things with Johnny Howard. She never understood why her father loved to smoke so much. Although she did like the smell of his pipe tobacco.

  Hannah closed her eyes and thought of her father. She would miss him the most, even if he had sent his detectives after her. She eased down the alley to the back of the building. She hadn’t anticipated her keepers would be on her trail so quickly. She’d nearly made it to the train station when she’d spotted them.

  She would have thought that since her family escaped the upheaval in France when she was five, she wouldn’t have to worry about those intent on doing her harm. Hannah and her family had lived in New York for sixteen years and created a fashion empire. Yet it wasn’t money the detectives were after.

  This time, the harm was coming from her father. He wasn’t happy with the commoners of America. He had arranged a marriage between her and some man with a bit of royalty in his blood. Pierre Monluc was coming for her, and Father had turned his hounds after her to make sure the marriage happened.

  She’d told her father that she had no intention of marrying any man from France, or for that matter, any man that she didn’t choose. That was two months ago, and then the next day, Hannah had found the ad for Bridgette’s Bridal Registry. Hannah quickly sent off a letter to apply to be a mail-order bride to an unknown groom in some little town called Shirleyville in the Montana Territory.

  Hannah had thought Father would give up when he learned she was going west, but she’d been wrong. Father forbade her to go and stopped her allowance. Feeling trapped, Hannah had accepted to the offer from Bridgette Merritt and was now on her way to Montana.

  This morning, she’d spotted the detectives as soon as she’d left the hotel. Acting nonchalant, she grabbed a pastry and went back to the hotel and her room. After eating the treat, she left her trunks to escape out of the second-story window by climbing down the trellis. She kept to the back of the building, and ran down the alley, hoping to reach the depot but had only gotten as far as the smoke shop.

  She shook her head and stared at her hair. Hannah should have cut her dark hair and colored it red. She’d always wanted to be a redhead. Father and Mother both despised them, and that made them all the more attractive to Hannah.

  Concentrating on slowing her breathing, Hannah leaned against the rough bricks of the smoke shop. Father hired the best, and she was having a dickens-of-a-time eluding them. She stifled a laugh. Such language was forbidden in her very strict house. Anything common or American was looked down on. Not that Charles Dickens was American, but he was worse, he was an English author.

  Hannah was tired of putting on the airs of French aristocracy when, in reality, her family was from common stock. She wasn’t sure why they’d had to escape from France, but that their lives had been in danger was assured from what she heard when she tried to eavesdrop on her father’s talks with friends. It seems that France was now on the brink of bankruptcy.

  Hannah made her way around the building and back to the street when a hackney carriage stopped in front of her. Seeing her chance, she ran beside the cab, keeping it between her and the two private detectives. She knew the men from some of her other escapades. They weren’t bad, but they did know how to track her.

  Hannah had been saving her money for the last six months. Despite her father’s determination to make her royalty and his frustration with her stubborn refusal to do so, he remained very generous with her. So, she had the funds to enjoy her freedom.

  She ducked into a store and bought a hat and trousers. She paid and changed in a stall by stuffing her skirt inside the pants. After a look in the mirror, Hannah twisted her hair atop her head and put it under her new cap.

  If she swaggered a bit, and thanks to the billowy blouse she’d worn, Hannah might look like a sixteen-year-old newsboy rather than a young woman. Either way, she was on her way to Montana. The matchmaker had sent her a letter that she was ready for Hannah to come and meet her groom.

  Looking in the mirror, Hannah pursed her lips. Did it really make sense to run from one arranged marriage into another? Yet, it was what she wanted. She loved America and wanted to see it in all its rugged glory. Besides, Father wouldn’t allow her to say no to Pierre, but she could tell the man in Montana that she’d changed her mind.

  Hannah would worry about the mail-order bride aspect when she arrived in Montana safe from Father’s detectives. Sure, that her disg
uise would work, she stuffed her reticule in her oversized shirt and walked confidently out the front door of the clothing store.

  She had learned that confidence resolved many problems. While the two detectives were going down the street and checking the stores, she crossed the street and stepped up to the platform just as her train chugged into the station.

  Hannah loved the big trains. With each chug and blow of their horn, it announced the way to freedom. She had her doubts that any man could tame her. Father said the same and often threatened to put her in a dungeon. Then she would playfully remind him that they had left all the dungeons when they’d fled France.

  Freedom rang throughout America, and Hannah was proud to be a part of this fledgling nation. After living for sixteen years in the United States, freedom had made a permanent place in her heart. Excitement thrilled her to be in a country that had exploded onto the world scene in such a short time and grew magnificently from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

  Hannah loved that it was a new land with new ideas. Anyone could become someone. No aristocracy in this country. Yes, her father called her naïve and said those with the money were the aristocracy of America. But what he failed to realize was that the opportunity was there for anyone to become a moneymaker.

  Once she arrived in Montana, she’d see what kind of man the matchmaker had chosen for her. Hannah had read plenty of dime novels about the American West. She knew whoever Bridgette picked out for her, the man would be honorable and treat her well. Later, Hannah could explain why she wasn’t ready to get married. Although there was always the chance that lightning could strike and she would fall in love with him.

  Hannah had determined at an early age that she would only marry a man that she had fallen madly in love with. She’d read about how it happened. They would see each other from across the room, and both would know without a doubt that they were meant for one another. That’s how it happened. It was like lightning. At least, that was how it happened according to the books she’d read.

  What she did know firsthand is that she did not want to marry Pierre Monluc and be dragged back to France and risk being put in a dungeon.

  Hannah found a seat on the train and kept an eye on the street below. She made sure that she had a clear shot to the back in case the detectives decided to board. Hannah kept her hat on and set a glare in her eyes to keep anyone from trying to sit beside her. Fortunately, the train didn’t seem like it would be full.

  A family of three was boarding, and Hannah decided it might be best to have people around her, so she didn’t look too conspicuous. She smiled at the mother and moved so they could enter and sit.

  As her luck would have it, the young boy, who was eating a giant sucker, sat next to her. Not that she didn’t like children, but she had visions of sticky residue all over her. She scooted to the far side of her seat and hoped the boy would want to look out the window.

  The boy, Hannah guessed at maybe nine years old, pointed to the detectives. “Mama, men are looking in the windows.”

  The mother, busy with her purse and arranging her shawl and the boy’s clothes, didn’t even look. “Mind your manners, Chucky, and don’t point.”

  Hannah kept her head turned to the other side of the train until she felt Chucky’s hand on her leg. She winced as she looked at the colorful sticky substance he’d left on her trousers.

  As she turned to survey the trouble, she saw the detectives peek in the window. Hannah turned away to the man across the aisle and spoke in her lowest voice. “It’s a beautiful day. Outside.” After she said the words, she remembered the skies were cloudy and drizzly.

  The man stared at her as if she had two heads.

  Trying to make sense of her words, Hannah continued, “The rain, it’s good for the summer flowers.” She didn’t know what else to do or say, so she kept her head turned and nodded a few times as if the man was answering her, which he definitely was not.

  Chucky touched her shoulder. “Why are you nodding your head? Are you having a fit?”

  To Hannah’s relief, the boy’s mama took over and pulled the little boy away from her. “Oh, dear.” The boy’s mother handed Hannah a handkerchief.

  Hoping it was safe to look, Hannah took the hanky and wondered how it was going to get the sticky mess from her clothes. Worse, she remembered she didn’t have a change of clothes along with her.

  With relief, she saw that the detectives were no longer at their window and had moved on. The train let loose a loud whistle to warn well-wishers to leave, and then she heard the enjoyable sound of the whoosh and chug as the train pulled out of the depot. She’d made it.

  Now, she could turn her attention to her clothing. Red and orange splotches marred her trousers and blouse. Well, at least they matched. She smiled at Chucky, who was still enjoying his sucker. Later, she could take off the pants and release her very wrinkled skirt.

  Not wanting more sticky blotches, Hannah decided to find another seat. “Excuse me. I see an empty seat. I’ll go ahead and move so you can have the row to yourselves.” Hannah swayed with the moving train and walked three rows down and scooted to the window seat. Across was a businessman who was already snoring.

  Hannah stared at him. Her choice was a man snoring like a buzz saw or a sticky boy. She stayed with the saw and stared out the window. Her excitement surged as the train picked up speed. She knew at the next stop, she’d have to be careful because she was sure the detectives would wire ahead.

  For now, she’d enjoy the countryside. They’d go through New Jersey and into Pennsylvania. Then onto Chicago and then to Wyoming up to Montana and over to Shirleyville. Hannah wondered who Shirley was to have a town named after her. Perhaps, in years, somewhere in Montana, there would be a Hannah town.

  ***

  Chad Dawson stepped off the train and onto the depot in Shirleyville. The town looked quiet. Exactly what he didn’t want to see. After being cooped up for a year in the Wyoming prison, he was ready to get out and enjoy the freedom that had been denied him.

  His lawyer, Bridgette Merritt, had strong-armed him into agreeing to a mail-order bride. A year ago, that hadn’t sounded so bad for the reduced sentence. Now, getting married was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Chad doubted if there would be a woman on this earth who could persuade him to give up his freedom, but to take the deal and get out of jail early, he had promised. If he didn’t like the mail-order bride, he could deny her. Chad tipped his hat back on his head and grinned. Well, he didn’t like her or this town.

  That Bridgette, she was something else, though. The woman was a force to be reckoned with, and he didn’t like the idea of disappointing her. But then all he had to do was stay out of trouble.

  Stay away from the saloons. Chad had heard that daily in prison. The warden had liked him for some reason and told him daily how Chad reminded him of his son. Chad sincerely hoped the warden’s son stayed out of trouble.

  From the letter that Bridgette had sent him, Chad was supposed to find the sheriff and let the law know he was in town. Then Chad was to go to the courthouse and tell Bridgette’s husband, who just so happened to be the mayor, that he was in town and wait at the hotel until she contacted him.

  Shirleyville’s lazy streets filled with families shopping the various stores looked like one dull place. No wonder Bridgette had him come here rather than meet in Cheyenne or Laramie. A year ago, he’d have lit up a cigarette and headed for the saloon. Now, according to the agreement, he was to live more like a preacher than a man.

  Well, sooner or later, Bridgette would give up on him and let him go his way. She had half his bounty in her bank, and he wasn’t sure if she’d still give it to him if he didn’t marry the bride. Chad figured if it came down to it, he could always marry the mail-order bride, and then once he got his half of the bounty, he would leave her and disappear.

  His conscience stabbed at him, but he’d convinced himself he’d do what he had to. Chad left the depot and stepped onto the dusty st
reet. Seeing how his boots had holes in the bottom, he was glad it hadn’t rained. He walked to the hard end of town and found the jail.

  Since he was fifteen, jails had become a familiar sight. Indians had killed his family and left him for dead with a scar over his chest. At least, they hadn’t scalped him.

  He ran a hand through his sandy-colored hair. Chad may have lost everything, but he’d kept his quick wit and zest for life. Looking at the small jail, he smiled. The size said the town didn’t deal with a lot of outlaws.

  Probably because of Bridgette. The gangs were afraid of her because so many of their men left for the bounty deal. She was one smart woman, and pretty, too. Yes, sir, if Bridgette was available, he might want a chance with her.

  Then he laughed. Who was he kidding? That wildcat would chew him up and spit him out in a day. Anyone who thought they could control that woman wasn’t thinking straight.

  Chad knocked on the door and entered.

  The sheriff pulled his feet off the desk. When he stood, Chad remembered that Levi was a long drink of water, and by the hard stare that Chad saw in the lawman’s eyes, reminded him that Levi was not one to be messed with.

  Holding out his hand, Chad grinned at him while being fully aware the deputy was sitting at the side of the desk and hadn’t taken his hand from his pistol. The deputy was a wary one, and he ought to be. Most lawmen knew to watch whenever Chad rode into town.

  Chad figured he had some kind of warning sign wrapped around him that he couldn’t see. He offered his hand to the sheriff. “I’m Chad Dawson. One of Bridgette’s Bounty Brigade men. I just got out of prison and was supposed to check in with you and then her husband at the courthouse. I just got off the train.”