Millie nodded. “I sure do. The problem is, I’m not entirely sure where… Is there a good inn or boarding house around here where I might be able to stay until my next train’s departure?”
The driver rubbed his chin a bit, furrowing his bushy, graying black brows. “There’s an inn nearby that often takes in people from these trains,” he told her. “I reckon it’s nicer than staying at the boarding house in town.”
“Great,” Millie said, a sigh of relief edging into her voice. “That will be perfect. Thank you.”
The gentleman climbed out of the front seat of his carriage and took her baggage, organizing it in the trunk before helping Millie into the cushioned back seat. It was a black carriage, with a matching black upholstered interior. It wasn’t fancy, but Millie couldn’t remember the last time she had ridden in a carriage like it. She was used to walking, or at the very least riding in the small hansom cabs for a few blocks. This carriage made her feel like a princess.
Once she was all settled inside, the driver got back up on his seat at the front and they were off down the street. Millie looked out the windows and admired the small Utah town that she hadn’t expected to really see much of before. It looked like a sweet little place.
The driver was correct about the inn being convenient for train riders, too. It felt like she had only just sat down when they arrived at the large farmhouse. Millie gaped out the window at it. “Why, this looks like a family’s home!” she cried in her surprise. “I wouldn’t want to intrude…”
The carriage driver chuckled as he helped her down from her seat. “A lot of people say that when they first see this place. Mrs. Pratt does a mighty fine job of keeping her inn feeling like a home, too, I assure you.” He retrieved the bags for Millie and walked with her to the back door, while she admired the exterior of the house the whole way. It was made of wood and stone, and painted white with blue shutters. The city didn’t have houses like this; Millie was used to being surrounded by brick and concrete.
At the back of the house, there was an entrance with a sign above it that read Mrs. Pratt’s Inn. While Millie stood looking at it, the carriage driver leaned forward and knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened up and a radiant blonde woman smiled out at the two of them. “Hello and welcome,” she said brightly, holding the door wide so they could pass through and come inside the pleasantly warm house. There was a small counter to the right and the woman bustled there behind it, taking out a ledger book so she could take down her new guest’s information. “What is your name, please?”
Millie blinked, amazed by the woman’s efficiency. “Millie Saxton,” she said. “From New York.”
The woman scribbled that down into the notebook. “How many nights will you be staying with us, Miss Saxton?”
Millie blushed a bit. “I was told that the train was delayed and would be here within three days…”
“Lovely,” the woman said, taking that down as well and giving a nod. When she was done writing, she looked back up and smiled at Millie again. “We’re certainly glad to have you here with us, Miss Saxton. I am Mrs. Pratt, the owner of this residence. I can show you to your room now, if you’d like.”
At that, she gave the driver a look as if she understood that the man didn’t want to tarry there for too long. Besides, he was holding two fairly heavy suitcases.
Millie looked at him too and understood at once. “Oh, yes, please.”
Mrs. Pratt smiled another delighted smile and led the way towards the staircase further inside the home. Millie continued to gaze at the place, admiring too the small crowd of people that were gathered in the spacious living room area. They were all chatting over tea and cakes. It seemed more like some kind of party than a group of strangers who all just happened to be staying at the same inn.
Yes, I could get quite used to staying here, Millie thought confidently with a smile of her own.
Chapter 2
After being shown to her room, Millie fell back onto the soft blankets and pillows and immediately drifted to sleep. She slept for only an hour or so, and when she awoke she felt more than a little embarrassed. That is no way to make a good first impression on these kind people who are allowing me to dwell in their home! she mentally chastised herself. She briskly got out of the bed and tidied up her appearance, using the large mirror on the room’s beautiful cherry wood vanity. Her long, auburn-brown tresses were completely disheveled by her slumber, so she collected up some of her hair pins and ribbons from one of her suitcases and carefully styled her hair back into a fashionable, up and braided look.
For a brief moment, she thought about sitting down and writing her beau in Coloma a message, telling him how sorry she was about the delay, but then she realized that it would only lengthen her absence from the company of Mrs. Pratt and her other tenants. Mr. O’Neill didn’t need to know about her silly train delay. It wasn’t like it was going to be much longer until she was there with him. He’d been patient for so long already; surely, he could wait a few extra days.
Millie left her room and walked down the staircase, into the glowing light of the living room. She smiled once more when she saw all of the friendly faces that were gathered there. She didn’t know any of them yet, but already she was happy to be one of them.
“Ah, there you are,” a young woman said, stretching a hand out for her in greeting. “I’m Mrs. Hattie Ford. I’m Mrs. Pratt’s assistant.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Millie replied, shaking her hand gently. “Gosh, everyone is so kind here. I can see why people come to the West.”
Hattie laughed softly and gave a slight shrug. “It’s at least why people stay in Ogden, I believe.” She grinned a bit. “May I get you some tea or coffee, or a sandwich? You’ve been traveling for an awfully long time, surely.”
After thinking for a moment, Millie nodded. “Some coffee and a sandwich, please?” Even though Hattie had offered, she still felt that asking was better than giving an order or something like that. She was a guest, not a boss.
Hattie gave a happy nod back. “Certainly. Please have a seat and I’ll be back soon with your treats.”
Before Millie could say anything else, the young woman was off on her new mission. She took a seat on a large sofa, not far from where two other ladies were sitting in wing chairs, gossiping over their sewing. She tried to guess at Hattie’s age, but it didn’t matter much to her. She’s a friendly girl, she thought. A friendly face is always good to see…
Back home in New York, Millie had a small group of friends – many of whom she met at the shirtwaist factory – and many of them were clearly happy to be independent and not at all in the business of looking for a husband. This always struck her as interesting, and she wondered if perhaps she was one of the last remaining romantics. It gave her hope when she saw the young, married ladies here in this town. The women of the West didn’t seem to be trying quite so hard to be independent, single ladies. There was value in being strong, steadfast farmer’s wives… Mrs. Pratt clearly had things figured out, as she owned her own inn and business seemed to be booming for her.
“What’re you smiling for?” Hattie asked, grinning at Millie as she stood nearby with a silver tray of coffee and fixings, as well as several vegetable and ham sandwiches.
Millie blinked at her, coming out of her reverie and embarrassed to be caught in a daydream. She laughed lightly. “Sorry, I was thinking about how different this place is compared to my old life back in New York.”
“I hope you think it’s a good kind of different,” Hattie said with a smirk. She carefully set the tray of treats down on the table in front of Millie’s place on the couch. “We are delighted that you’re here with us.”
“You probably say that to everyone who passes through your door,” Millie replied. “But thank you.”
Hattie laughed. “We do say it to everyone; but we mean it every time. I’ve made you some sandwiches and some coffee with sugar and fresh milk. Is there anything else I can
fetch for you or help you with, perhaps? Just because it’s snowy outside doesn’t mean you have to stay locked indoors at all times. I know from experience that snow can make for some lovely walks, provided that you’re careful and bundled up.”
Millie gave a small grin. “This is precisely why I’m grateful that this place is different,” she said. “Everyone so far has been so nice. It makes me happy about my decision to move out West.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear you say that,” Hattie said. “Enjoy your luncheon and I’ll be back soon to discuss things further. I would love to hear all about you, if you don’t mind sharing.”
With that, she swished away to attend to another task. Millie was tickled pink just to be in this home with such thoughtful, pleasant people. After living her whole life in the hustle and bustle of the city, in small and frankly dingy spaces, it was wonderful to finally feel like she could breathe.
Chapter 3
After she finished her sandwich and coffee, Millie decided to call it an early night so she could start exploring the inn and the surrounding town some more. She took Hattie’s words to heart: a little snow on the ground didn’t mean that she had to stay inside. After all, Millie Saxton from New York was used to snow!
She woke up the following morning, feeling well-rested and excited to experience new things. She hadn’t decided to move out West simply because of the gentleman who had advertised in the newspaper for a bride. She wouldn’t even have been looking at the newspaper listings if she hadn’t been yearning for some kind of new and wonderful escape. Quickly, Millie dressed in a lovely pink frock and hastened down the staircase to see who was around and what might be going on that morning.
The crowd had thinned considerably from the late afternoon luncheon that she had been a part of the previous day. She figured that was the way of things in inns. Most people didn’t stick around in this house, save the family who called it their permanent home. Millie was hoping to get to know those people most of all.
She knew how to make the most of a slightly unfortunate, spontaneous situation.
“Good morning, Miss Saxton,” Mrs. Pratt said brightly as she came into the living room and saw her there. She was on her way to the staircase, but she stopped when she saw her guest had awakened. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Millie tilted her head a bit as she smiled back at her. “Your assistant, Mrs. Ford, mentioned yesterday that it’s safe to walk around the area… Is there anything you recommend?”
Diana chuckled. “I can understand not wanting to be holed up inside all winter. I recommend you eat something hot, first of all. Do you have a nice, thick coat?”
Millie looked down at the jacket she was wearing – the one she walked into the inn wearing in the first place – and smirked. “This is the warmest coat I have with me.”
Blinking at her, it was Diana’s turn to tilt her head a little. “Oh, I see… Would you like to borrow a thicker one?”
“Yes, please,” Millie said. “If you think it will be that cold… Goodness, you are all so generous.”
Diana smiled and waved that off playfully. “Not at all. We simply like to take care of our guests. Don’t move a muscle.” She headed to the staircase and climbed quickly, as if she was absolutely thrilled to be lending someone some outerwear. Millie stood there, blushing a bit and feeling extremely fortunate to have stumbled upon this place. Thank goodness for that carriage driver. He knew exactly where to bring me.
She ended up moving a muscle, but only to sit down upon the arm of one of the sofas. She doubted that Mrs. Pratt would mind that; surely, she hadn’t meant for her to stand there waiting. Nevertheless, it was only a few more moments before Diana Pratt reappeared, carrying a large, light gray coat with fur on the collar. It did indeed look warm.
“This is my mother’s old coat, but it should fit you well,” she said, opening it up so she could place it onto Millie.
Millie stood up and went to her, stepping into the coat and smiling as she instantly felt its warmth. “Well I certainly don’t need to wear this by the fire, that’s for sure. Thank you – and your mother – very much.”
“You’re very welcome,” Diana replied. “If you just go out back, one of my husband’s assistants can give you a lift into town. We keep our wagons and carriages back there with the horses.”
Millie recalled walking past them when she first arrived. They had been shrouded in shadows and she’d been overcome just by the sight of the house, but she did remember the carriages being there. “I know precisely where to look,” she said brightly. “Thank you again!”
Diana was true to her word about not letting Millie go out without some hot soup in her belly, though. Millie sat on the sofa, the thick coat hung up nearby, and ate some hot noodles and broth. She could tell that Diana had a real mother’s intuition and nature. A less caring innkeeper would’ve just let her be off on her way. Millie was glad to have the former.
When she was finished eating her soup, she wrapped herself in the comfortable winter coat and strolled out the back door in search of the wagon and the helpful farmhand who might be able to take her into town for some independent sightseeing. The backyard of the inn was covered in dusty snow, and in the distance, Millie spotted row upon row of brown and black cattle.
“Can I help you, little lady?” a young man asked from her left. “You ain’t lost, are you?”
Millie jumped a bit – not outwardly, she hoped – and turned to regard this man. He was lanky and he had a cute, impish sort of face. She had a feeling that he was a little younger than her, which made sense if she was a farmer’s apprentice.
“Oh, thank you. I’m not lost. I’m trying to see about borrowing a cart to go into town. Mrs. Pratt said I might find someone who could help me out here…”
The young man rubbed his leather-gloved hands together and cupped them in front of his mouth, blowing into them to summon warmth. In her eagerness and her borrowed coat, she had quite forgotten just how cold it was outside. “I reckon I can help you out with that,” he said after lowering his hands. “My name’s Glenn Daniels.” He tugged the glove of his right hand off and reached out to her.
Millie gladly took his hand and they shook. “Millie Saxton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He smiled wryly at her and put his workman’s glove back on. She appreciated that he didn’t shake hands with her while wearing the dusty and dirty things. Not that she would’ve said anything about it; she didn’t want to be rude or seem ungrateful.
“Wait right here a moment,” Glenn said then, before rushing off into the fields beyond, towards the cattle.
Millie smiled and nodded a bit as he went, watching him find someone with whom he could share the news of this new task of his. She didn’t have to wait long at all before he came hurrying back towards her, holding his gray-brown cowboy hat on his head so that it wouldn’t fall off in the gust from his running.
“Where… would you like… to go, Miss Saxton?” he asked between gasps of breath.
She hadn’t anticipated being so excited about taking a break from work in order to do this. “Town,” she said with a shrug. “Wherever you think would be most interesting or helpful for me to know about.”
He grinned then. “I know just the place.”
Chapter 4
Millie was impressed that the ride into the center of Ogden was not very long at all. The folks that she’d talked to about the town hadn’t been exaggerating when they said that everything there was relatively close to each other. It made sense to her; after all, it was a small Western town, still being developed and settled. That was something that she found so enthralling about the West. Everything there was still a work in progress. She was eager to see what it would develop into, but she also rather hoped that it would never stop developing. Sometimes, finished projects weren’t as interesting as the process of working on them.
“Thank you, you can stop the wagon here, please,” she told Glenn. She was admiring
the central street in the town and noticed that there were several shop windows that interested her. Though the town mostly had a lot of businesses that were saloons or grocers, there did appear to be some novelty shops.
Glenn parked the wagon on the side of the dirt road and, after giving his horse a swift pat, he looked over at the places that Millie had noticed. He lowered his brow a bit and gave her a flummoxed sort of look. “There isn’t much there of interest, Miss,” he said. “I’ve hardly ever seen anyone shopping in those shops.”
“That’s because you’re a man,” Millie said with a smirk at him as she carefully alighted from the wagon. “Men are never interested in purchasing clothing. I know this from experience.”
Glenn chuckled and shook his head slowly at her as she walked away from him and the wagon. Millie wasn’t trying to buy any new clothing – she didn’t really have extra room in her suitcases for that sort of thing and she didn’t like to spend money on things she didn’t need – but it would be fun to see what was available anyway. It was good simply to get out of the house for a bit and stretch her legs. She was used to walking all around the city. At least until she was too tired, and then she would take a cab. As she walked along the big and bustling street, she admired all of the shop fronts to decide which one deserved her attention first. She wasn’t looking for anything to buy, so browsing would be strictly fun for her today.
She strolled leisurely toward the clothing shop, since it had caught her eye first. Along the way, she noticed a gentleman sitting outside one of the other shops. He had a large anvil and he was striking a metal hammer against it, causing some sparks to fly out. The sound of the hammer hitting the anvil was quite loud – loud enough to make Millie jump more than once as she walked by him.
The gentleman noticed and stopped his hammering, setting the tool down and smiling at her, wiping his brow with a lightly hairy arm. He was tall with muscles on his arms and a broad chest. He looked exactly like a metalworker should. Millie smiled back at him and nodded her head slightly in appreciation. He had dark brown hair and a pair of sincere, trusting brown eyes. She thought he was handsome, despite being the complete opposite of the gentlemen she usually would fancy.
Annie: A Bride For The Farmhand - A Clean Historical Western Romance (Stewart House Brides Book 3) Page 22