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Whiskey River Š 2018 by Theresa Oliver
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the express permission from the author or publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author. Whiskey River is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found therein are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons alive or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. For information, contact the publisher, Hot Tree Publishing. www.hottreepublishing.com
Editing: Hot Tree Editing Cover Designer: RMGraphX ISBN: 978-1-925655-37-7
For those who seek love‌ may you find it in spades.
Chapter 3 Ella walked up the seven flights of stairs to her two-bedroom tenement. The lights were out when she walked in, except for the reflection of a flickering candle dancing on the walls of the small parlor. “There you are!” Mia exclaimed, her blonde waves framing her face. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve been so worried!” Ella set her reticule down on the nearest table, hung her shawl up on the coat rack in the corner, and plopped down on the nearest chair in a very unladylike manner. Mia stood over her with her hands on her hips. “Where have you been? I was worried about you!”
Ella opened her eyes as she let out a deep breath. “I’m moving.” “What? When? What happened?” Mia asked as tears sprang to her eyes. She sank down into the high-backed chair kitty-corner from Ella’s. “Could we talk about this tomorrow?” “No.” “I didn’t think so.” Ella sat up. “I think you should sit down.” “I am.” “So you are.” “Stop wasting time.” Mia had been her roommate for three years, since she first moved to New York. “Where are you going?” Ella let out a deep breath. She and Mia had become fast friends after Mia arrived in New York. They met at the Breckenridge Saloon when Mia was hired, and had been best friends since. She had no idea how she could tell her. Ella leaned forward and took Mia’s hands into her
own. “I’m moving to Wyoming to become a mailorder bride.” “You what?” she asked, her voice rising several octaves. “What in the world ever possessed you to do such a thing?” “Mia, I need to make a change—” “Then marry someone here! Or open a dress shop! Anything!” Tears welled up in Mia’s eyes. “But don’t move away.” “Try to understand,” Ella cooed as tears rimmed her eyes. “I want to live a respectable life. I’m tired of the way a lot of men treat me.” Mia’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Ella, what happened?” Ella dropped her hands and walked across the room. “Gunner came into the saloon tonight and made a fool of himself.” Since they worked together, Mia knew all of the same people. “He’s harmless.”
“He’s dangerous!” Ella countered. “You should have seen him! He was twirling me around like a rag doll!” Mia sat back on her chair. “Ella, in our line of work—” “I know, Mia,” she replied. “That’s why I want to get out.” She sat back, taking a moment to calm herself. “Mia, I want to get married and have children one day, and I can’t do that being a dance hall girl.” Mia forced a smile. “I’m going to miss you.” Ella pulled her in for a hug. “I’m going to miss you, too.” She pulled back when a thought occurred to her. “Hey! Why don’t you come with me?” Mia forced a smile. “No. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your marriage… or respectability.” “Now, wait a minute.” Ella pulled Mia out of her chair. “You are very respectable.” She pulled
her in for a hug. “I just wish that you could come with me.” Mia smiled as she returned the hug. “I’m going to miss you, too.” Ella pulled back. “Well, I’m not gone yet so you’ll still have to put up with me for another week, at least.” Mia’s lips curved down into a pout. “So soon?” “Come with me,” Ella begged as she took her hands. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.” Since they’d met, Ella had felt protective of her best friend. She was really too shy to be a dance hall girl, but she did it for the money. “You can do anything with your life. Anything at all, Mia.” But Mia just shook her head as tears rimmed her eyes. “You’ll write to me, won’t you?” Ella pulled her in for another quick hug. “Of course I will.” When she pulled back, there were tears on both their cheeks. “Okay. Let’s save the
goodbyes for another day. It’s getting late. We have a lot to do in the morning.” “You mean, you have a lot to do,” Mia corrected. Ella gave her friend a pleading look. “But you’ll help me, won’t you?” Mia nodded, forcing a smile through her tears. “Of course.” *** Ella spent the rest of the week preparing for the trip. And, true to her word, Mia helped her as much as she could. Soon, Ella had her trousseau filled with a bridal gown and new dresses. Over the years working as a dance hall girl, she had saved plenty of money. She felt a bit nervous about having to dip into it, but making a good impression was necessary, and the money she spent hardly made a scratch in her savings. She was enjoying it. It had been a while since Ella had gone shopping for anything new. It felt good
to be embarking on a new life, a new adventure in the West. Madame Chase sent word for her to visit. When the day arrived, Ella did her hair, dressed in her finest new gown and hat, donned a parasol, and pinched her cheeks to make them rosy. As she walked through the cobblestone city streets of New York, past the brownstones and tall buildings, headed toward Madame Chase’s house, men tipped their derby hats to her as she passed. For the first time in a very long time, Ella felt respectable. Soon, she came to the familiar brownstone building that was Madame Chase’s. She walked up the stone stairs and knocked on the door. The door opened, and a maid stood on the other side.
“My name is Ella Raines. Madame Chase is expecting me,” she said, already feeling a part of society. The maid stepped back. “Come in, miss. You can wait in the parlor. Madame Chase will be with you momentarily.” Ella nodded. “Thank you.” She pulled down her parasol and walked into the salon. She perched on the edge of a straight-back chair, careful not to let her back touch it. “My, my! Don’t you look fine,” Madame Chase gushed as she entered the room a moment later. She squeezed Ella’s hands as she stood. “You are a respectable lady, indeed!” She stood back at arms’ length and looked her up and down. “I love the dress! You must tell me who your seamstress is before you leave.”
“Thank you, Madame Chase,” Ella said as pride filled her heart. “Did you receive word from Mr. King?” “Please,
sit
down,”
Madame
Chase
encouraged as she perched on the edge of the chair kitty-corner from where Ella sat. “Shall I call for some tea?” “If it isn’t any trouble,” Ella replied, already feeling like a lady. Madame Chase smiled. “’Tis no trouble at all.” She then called down the hallway, “Betsey! Would you come in here, please?” The maid appeared in the doorway a moment later. “Would you be so kind as to bring us a pot of tea, dear?” Betsey curtseyed. “Right away, ma’am.” After the maid left, Madame Chase turned to Ella. “Now, I have good news.” “Please, tell me,” Ella begged as her heart fluttered.
Madame Chase folded her hands on her lap, clasping them together. “I sent a telegram to Mr. King the day after we spoke, telling him about you. I said that you were from a prominent family here in New York and were seeking adventure in the West.” She leaned forward for effect. “I received word from him yesterday, and he is eager to meet you. From what he said, there aren’t many women in the West, especially women of society.” Madame Chase took her hands. “Miss Raines, Mr. King cannot know about your past. If he were to find out, he would surely break off the engagement.” A pang of guilt pulled at her chest for the lie, one that would affect the rest of her life. But she knew it was the only way to overcome her past. She pushed the thought aside as she nodded,
understanding all too well that reputation was everything. It was the story of her life. When men discovered her profession, they fled as fast as their feet could carry them. “You will leave this Saturday,” Madame Chase continued. “I have arranged for you and your escort to travel by train to Wyoming. Mr. King will meet you at the station.” “Is it wise for me to bring an escort?” Ella asked, a bit concerned. “My dear,” Madame Chase replied, “not only is it wise, it is expected. No self-respecting young lady
of
society
would
ever
dare
travel
unaccompanied through the wilds of the West. But fear not. Mr. King knows of your escort.” Ella nodded as an image of Colton Hill flashed through her mind. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. “What does Mr. King look like?” Ella asked as Colton’s words ran
through her mind. Society or not, somehow she couldn’t see herself married to a mountain man with a big, bushy beard. Madame Chase shook her head. “I don’t have a photograph, but he said that he has blond hair and blue eyes, just like yourself. Also, he is young, in his late twenties.” Ella nodded as she smiled. “How could he be so young….” “And still be a banker?” Madame Chase finished. Ella nodded. Madame Chase shrugged. “Hard work. From what I understand, he journeyed to Whiskey River several years ago and started the bank there. He quickly made a name for himself and is now a respected member of society.” Ella beamed. “He sounds perfect.” Madame Chase paused, studying Ella for a moment. “I am so sorry, but I must ask. Are you
sure that Colton Hill isn’t a good fit for you instead?” Ella’s eyes opened wide in surprise as she shook her head. “For one thing, the man is infuriating. Then again, if I were to marry him, nothing would change. I would still be who I am now.” Madame Chase smiled. “And is that a bad thing?” Ella inhaled as she pondered the question. “Madame Chase, I want a different life. A respectable life. And I do not think that will be possible with someone like Colton Hill.” Madame Chase’s eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Why not?” Ella let out a deep breath. “He has a reputation as a gunslinger, for one thing.” Madame Chase narrowed her eyes. “Are you certain of that?” When she didn’t answer, Madame Chase reached over and took Ella’s
hands into her own, forcing her to look into her eyes. “When men—and women, for that matter— acquire a bad reputation, it’s most difficult to overcome.” Ella knew the feeling well. “That is precisely the reason why I want to go to Whiskey River… for a fresh start.” Madame Chase smiled as she gave Ella’s hand a gentle pat. “And you shall have it.” She rose to her feet as Ella did the same. “Are you prepared?” Ella nodded as her heart fluttered. “I’m all packed and have my trousseau ready.” Madame Chase smiled. “Good.” She placed her arm around Ella, guiding her subtly toward the door. “Then, it’s all settled. I shall meet you and Mr. Hill at the train station Saturday.”
A broad smile spread across Ella’s face. She couldn’t remember a time when she had been so excited. “I’ll see you there.” As Ella walked down the street, she couldn’t help but think that this was it… her last chance at a new life. She just hoped that Colton Hill still wanted to be her escort. As she headed home, she felt another pang of guilt grab her chest for the lie of her being from a prominent New York society family, but it was the only way.
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