Sweet Ceremony Read online

  Sweet Ceremony

  Carson Valley Series - Book 4

  Eliza Ester

  Contents

  1. Annabelle

  2. Ace

  3. Annabelle

  4. Ace

  5. Annabelle

  6. Ace

  7. Annabelle

  8. Ace

  9. Annabelle

  10. Ace

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2022 by Eliza Ester

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  One

  Annabelle

  The trip from Charleston, South Carolina, to Carson Valley, in Wyoming Territory, was over a thousand miles. The stagecoach covered sixty to seventy miles a day, which meant a travel time of over two weeks.

  Despite the hard seat and the constant jolting about, the changing countryside fascinated Annabelle. The East was well developed, and she’d grown up knowing a place that was settled. As the coach continued further west, the terrain was as they’d said it would be—wild and untamed, with little sign of civilization between the small towns scattered like dropped coins across the land.

  Still, Annabelle hadn’t thought it would be quite this raw. Stories had a way of changing from one person to the next. She imagined the same happened about the developments in the West. The US was a place that became a home to all who landed there ages before.

  The nestled town of Carson Valley sat between hills and mountains, picturesque, green, the stuff of fantasy. It was wild, fitting into the countryside as if the buildings were one with it.

  When the coach pulled up outside the hotel, Annabelle stepped out. After her trunk was unloaded and put down in the dust. Seeing no one there to meet her, she lugged the heavy trunk to the wooden porch that ran along the length of the hotel. She looked up and down the main road of the town.

  Wooden buildings were sandwiched together along the main road, with housing toward the ends at both sides. People walked or rode along the dusty street that seemed to be the only road that led and out of town.

  The passengers who had ridden the coach along with her were all collected as the time passed. Someone greeted them with smiles and glad tidings. Annabelle swallowed hard as she now stood there alone.

  What would he look like? she wondered. Annabelle and Donahue McGee had exchanged letters only twice before she had come out West as a mail order bride to the man who had constructed his words so beautifully. Not that she had had something specific she’d been looking for—she had just needed to get out of her uncle and aunt’s house. She felt like she was a burden and that would not do.

  A new life in a new town would be the best for her, she’d decided.

  Donahue had promised he would meet her at the hotel when the coach arrived. So where was he?

  Annabelle sat down on her trunk and waited. She watched the town settle again after the coach had ruffled its feathers, and business carried on as usual.

  Across the way, men and women walked in and out of what looked like a general store. Further down the way an office with a “Sheriff” sign and a “Jail” sign beneath it stood proud. Toward the end of the town was a schoolhouse and beyond that a church.

  In the other direction, the road seemed to end before becoming a path that wound into the mountains.

  The sun had been high in the sky when Annabelle had arrived but as time had passed it had disappeared behind the tallest mountain, drawing long shadows across the ground. The human and animal traffic dwindled and Annabelle was worrying now.

  What if Donahue never arrived? But he wouldn’t do that, she told herself. She had risked everything to come out to Carson Valley. Surely he had to understand that it wasn’t to be taken lightly?

  It must have been around five, Annabelle guessed, when a reverend in black attire approached her. He smiled and his countenance was warm and gentle.

  “Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked.

  Annabelle hesitated before she shook her head.

  “I’m afraid not,” she said. “I’m here as a mail order bride to meet Donahue McGee but unfortunately there’s no sign of him.”

  The reverend frowned.

  “He hasn’t written you?” he asked.

  Annabelle shook her head again. “Not since his last letter where he asked me to come.”

  The reverend nodded and looked over Annabelle’s shoulder at something in the distance.

  “Are you Annabelle Dorsey?” he asked, looking back at her.

  Annabelle nodded.

  “I’m Reverend Shreve,” he said. “I am the liaison between the brides and the men who ask for them.” He took a deep breath. His wrinkled face was serious. “I’m afraid I have bad news for you, Miss Dorsey.”

  Annabelle swallowed. Her stomach tightened, and she knew what Reverend Shreve would say before he said it.

  “Donahue McGee won’t be coming for you.”

  Despite expecting those words, the blood drained from her face. Had she traveled all this way only to be forgotten? Surely it must be a mistake?

  “What happened?” she asked. Perhaps he’d been taken ill, and she needed only to go to him.

  “Come inside,” the good reverend said, gesturing toward the hotel entrance. “You are probably exhausted after your trip. Let me buy you a meal.”

  Annabelle nodded. She hadn’t eaten since they’d left Millet and she was thirsty, too. Thirsty and in despair.

  They walked into the hotel and the reverend led her to a table in the hotel’s dining room. He ordered her a meal and with it came a cup of water. Annabelle drank deeply before setting the cup down, but she didn’t touch her food, finding she was too upset to eat.

  Reverend Shreve took a deep breath.

  “Miss Dorsey, I’m afraid Donahue McGee left town two weeks ago,” he said.

  “Why, that’s about the time I left Charleston,” Annabelle said.

  “If I had known he didn’t contact you, I would have written you myself. He was involved in a scandal with a married woman and fled for his life when her husband found out about it.”

  Annabelle blinked at the reverend.

  “He’s not coming back, is he?” she asked.

  Reverend Shreve shook his head, his face apologetic.

  “I’m so sorry this happened, ma’am. It shouldn’t happen to a lady.”

  Annabelle swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump that had risen in her throat. She had prepared herself to be married to a stranger. That had been hard enough. Now she had to stomach rejection. She hadn’t once considered she might be abandoned.

  “What do I do now?” she asked. “When does the coach return? I don’t have enough money to pay room and board for more than a night.”

  Reverend Shreve nodded slowly.

  “We’ll figure something out, don’t worry. I won’t leave you over to fate.”

  Annabelle closed her eyes for a moment, shutting the world out. Her emotions were in turmoil. This was terrible. How could a man do that? How could he leave her to fend for herself after asking her to leave behind everything she knew and come out to a strange place, miles from home?

  She wanted to cry. All the pent-up emotion—the fear, the excitement, the nerves, the worry, and now the disappointment—merged into one and she was close to hysteria.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Annabelle admitted to Shreve. Her voice was thin and she hated how lost she sounded. She missed home. She wanted to be back in the room she shared with two of her cousins. If she were home, she would help Aunt Diana cook for all her cousins and Uncle Raymond.

  With seven cousins, they had had ten mouths to feed while she lived there. Annabelle had left to avoid being a burden to her aunt and uncle who already had so much on their plate.

  Now, she wished she had been selfish and stayed in a life she knew, with people who wanted her.

  Two

  Ace

  After Ace had finished his chores on the ranch, he saddled Buck, his favorite of the farm horses, and rode to town. It was about half an hour on horseback from the Johann Ranch to Carson Valley and the time alone gave Ace the opportunity to think.

  Ace Christianson had been working ranches most of his life, but Jeremiah Johann was the best owner he’d worked for and Ace felt like he was finally getting somewhere in life. Mr. Johann paid him enough he could put money aside from time and time.

  At this rate, Ace could buy his own ranch one day. That was his dream, to own a ranch, to be the master of the land and call the shots rather than being a ranch hand all his life. He had worked on other people’s ranches, doing all the hard work, for years. He wanted it to pay off into his own pocket for a change.

  That wasn’t the only reason he wanted a ranch of his own. Ace loved working on a ranch. He was good at herding cattle, he knew how ranches worked, and the sheer joy of being part of an operation that large was something he wanted for himself.

  That, and a woman he could share it with. He wanted to settle down and have a family. Not all right away. He would settle down and then find himself a wife when he had the funds to s
upport her. A woman was a rare and beautiful thing and in a world that could be hard and unforgiving, he wanted to give her a life that was worth living.

  Ace was in a good mood. Buck was frisky and he laughed when the animal bucked, trying to unseat him. It was where the animal had earned his name.

  “Not today, friend,” Ace said and kicked his mount on.

  He whistled as he rode into down, nodding at the neighbors and townspeople as he passed them. Ace had been a part of the Carson Valley community for five years, now. It was a place he was happy to call home.

  When Ace arrived at the Carson Valley Hotel, he tied up his horse to the post outside and walked in through the door. The air was cool inside the building, a contrast to the sun beating down on his neck outside, and he took off his hat.

  “Afternoon, Shamus,” he said, greeting the hotel manager who sat behind the reception desk. Shamus had a shock of red hair and green eyes, freckles, and skin so pale he couldn’t go into the sun without a hat. He knew everyone and everything because the hotel was at the center of the town.

  “How are thing at the ranch, Ace?” Shamus asked.

  “Good as always. Jeremiah is rearing three bulls for the auction this year. It’s going to be good.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for them. Best bulls in the county, old Jeremiah’s.”

  Ace nodded. Mr. Johann was famous for his stud bulls.

  “Has the mail arrived?” he asked.

  Shamus nodded and bent down to retrieve a handful of letters, all addressed to Mr. or Mrs. Johann.

  “Came with the coach this morning,” he said.

  Ace took the letters and flipped through them, checking they were all for his employer. He heard a conversation from the dining room and turned his head. Sometimes folks passed through Carson Valley and Ace was always fascinated with the kind of people who came and went.

  Revered Shreve sat at a table with a woman that Ace hadn’t seen before. She was a sight for sore eyes if Ace had to say so himself. She was young—she couldn’t have been older than twenty—and her hair was thick and black, flowing over her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown, big, and sad.

  She was crying, he realized.

  “Who’s that?” Ace asked Shamus.

  The man shrugged. “McGee’s bride.”

  “McGee? I thought the old dog made a run for it.”

  Shamus nodded. “Which is why the woman’s crying. Arrived on a coach today as a mail order bride with no husband to claim her. Can’t believe McGee didn’t write to warn her he wouldn’t be here.”

  Ace’s heart went out to the woman. When he’d left home seven years ago, it had been difficult. He’d been only seventeen and life had been unforgiving. He had made his way, though, and after two years of wandering he’d settled in Carson Valley. He could only imagine how hard it had to be if you thought you were spoken for and you realized that there was no one to call you their own.

  He cleared his throat and walked to the pair.

  “Afternoon, Reverend,” he said. “Ma’am.” He nodded to her. She looked up at him and his heart skipped a beat. Those eyes…

  “Ace,” Reverend Shreve said, smiling. “Meet Miss Annabelle Dorsey. Miss Dorsey, this is Mr. Ace Christianson. He works on the Johann Ranch just outside of town.”

  Annabelle nodded at Ace.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said with a voice that was as sweet as wind chimes.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Ace asked.

  Reverend Shreve turned to Annabelle.

  “Will you excuse me for a moment, ma’am?”

  When she nodded, he stood up and walked with Ace for enough from the table to be out of earshot.

  “Shamus told you?” Shreve asked.

  Ace nodded. “Terrible thing to happen to a woman.”

  Shreve nodded. “She doesn’t have a much, can’t afford room and board until the coach returns and we don’t know when that will be. I can’t take her home—Mrs. Shreve won’t be thrilled with me as you can imagine.” He smiled and Ace nodded. Mrs. Shreve wasn’t the jealous type, but with a pretty little thing in the Reverend’s home, rumors would spread and the minister had a good name that didn’t deserve to be marked.

  “I don’t know where to go with her. I can’t ask Shamus to house her for free—a man’s gotta make a living.”

  “I’ll take her with me,” Ace blurted.

  Shreve frowned.

  “You’re sure?”

  Ace nodded. “You know Victoria would never turn her away and she always needs help around the ranch. Annabelle can earn her keep by helping and she’ll have a roof over her head until the coach arrives.”

  Shreve nodded and looked at Annabelle, who pecked at the food in front of her.

  “That might just be the answer,” he said.

  “The Johanns are good people,” Ace added.

  “That they are, son.” He took a deep breath. “All right, let me propose it to her and we’ll see what she says. She’s scared and confused, naturally. When McGee left I thought his troubles had left with him.”

  Ace shook his head and watched the reverend walk back to Annabelle. He spoke to her, explaining it all, gesturing to Ace now and then. Annabelle nodded, still taking a bite of food from time to time and giving Ace sideways glances.

  Finally, when her meal was finished and Reverend Shreve nodded and smiled, they got up and walked to where Ace was standing.

  Three

  Annabelle

  The ranch was a great place. Mrs. Victoria Johann was a wonderful hostess and she had been more than gracious when she’d heard of Annabelle’s predicament. She hadn’t hesitated to give her a room in the house and Annabelle worked hard, helping in and around the ranch house wherever she could.

  Annabelle felt most useful when she was doing something. She had never been the type to sit quietly and do nothing and being able to help made her feel less like she was imposing on someone else’s kindness.

  The ranch was a delightful place. It lay to the south of Carson Valley and it stretched over quite a large stretch of land. Rolling hills and an oval-shaped lake were part of the property and the place was green and full of life.

  Annabelle tried to picture what it would look like during the winter months when everything was covered in snow; she imagined it would be like a winter wonderland.

  It only took a few days for Annabelle to settle in and to feel comfortable in her new surroundings. Her stay at the ranch was not permanent but the ranch had a welcoming feel to it and Annabelle felt at home.

  The ranch was a busy place, too. With ten ranch hands to help Mr. Jeremiah Johann there was a lot to do, a lot to manage, and many mouths to feed. The latter was something Annabelle was good at and she made herself useful in the kitchen from day one, helping Victoria cook for everyone.

  “You’re very comfortable in the kitchen,” Victoria noted when they were cutting vegetables together. Annabelle and Victoria had spent the morning digging up and picking the vegetables in the garden.

  “I enjoy cooking,” Annabelle said. “It’s systematic and you always know what you’re going to get. I like its predictability.”

  Victoria laughed and Annabelle looked up at her. She was a woman in her late forties with graying hair and wrinkled hands, but she was spritely and she didn’t slack off in her work at all. In fact, the first few days Annabelle had felt like Victoria left her behind in the dust when they were working side by side.

  “Oh, my hands,” Victoria said, leaning her elbows on the table. Annabelle glanced up.

  “Are you all right?”

  Victoria nodded. “Nothing but old age setting in,” she said. “My joints ache from time to time. Nothing I can’t handle, but these hands are getting tired of working.”

  Annabelle carried on cutting vegetables. She was glad she was there to carry on when Victoria needed a break.