Hannah: A Bride For Cowboy Warren (Mail Order Brides For The Doyle Brothers Book 1) by Jenny Creek Tanner Page A

wife findeth a good thing,” and I happen to believe that. You’re older, Warren, and when you first considered looking into the mail order brides, you came to me, did you not?”
    “I did,” Warren admitted.  He tightened his arms.
    “And what did I tell you?”
    “That if I went ahead with this, I needed to consider it could be a situation of mutual benefit for us both.”
    “I stand by those words, son.” He shot Warren a pointed look. “You have a lot to offer a woman, and from what you’ve told me of her she is in needed of something too. Security, a home, maybe even a family if it’s God’s will. That’s something within your means to provide. What more do you need?”
    Warren wasn’t sure. He didn’t have an answer for the pastor because he couldn’t think of anything more he did need. He’d ignored the topic of marriage so long he’d started to see it as a pointless endeavor. Yet, with Pastor Jeff’s wise counsel he was beginning to see that maybe it wasn’t just about him either.
    “I think you make some good points, Pastor.”  He uncrossed his arms and put his hands in his pockets.
    “’Course I do,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve got the Lord on my side, and don’t you forget that.”
    They both laughed at the pastor’s familiar joke and Warren felt some of the weight lift from his shoulders. He still felt ill at ease but it had nothing to do with Hannah Parish and everything to do with him .
    “I’ll see you next Sunday, Pastor Jeff.”
    “See you around, son.”
    Warren left the old church and the warmth of the sun soaked into him. He pulled the reins of his horse from the hitching post and climbed into the saddle.  He turned in the direction of his father’s ranch. His ranch.
    The ride on the dusty road through the flatlands near the base of the mountains always took Warren’s breath away. He’d grown up in Hay Creek and hadn’t known anything but living and working at Ruby River Ranch until he’d gone off to try his hand at gold mining.
    He took off his Stetson, wiped his arm across his forehead. A slight breeze came in over the hayfields on either side of him, and it cooled his damp brow. It always smelled sweet here. He wondered why he’d ever left, but was glad to be here again. He put his hat back on and words from one of Hannah’s letters came back to him.
    I’ve never had a home to call my own.
    She hadn’t written to gain his sympathy. In fact, he had the impression she didn’t want him to feel bad about her situation. She’d proved herself and was making ends meet with her hard work and persistence, though he had to believe it was taking its toll on her.
    Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing…
    He groaned, readjusting his seat in the saddle. He had set out today to gain wisdom from Pastor Jeff and he had found just that.
    Warren knew what he needed to do.

Chapter 2
     
    October 1880, Montana Territory
    Hannah clutched her reticule in her lap. Every muscle ached from the constant jarring she’d endured during the long hours in the stagecoach. She’d take traveling by train over this constant, jerky motion any day. She was close to the end of her trip. The driver had announced they were only an hour from Hay Creek.
    The scenery through the small, dingy window was breathtaking despite the dust and grime. She spent most of the ride staring outside and dreaming, and spent the rest of the time in restless sleep.
    She wondered what Warren Doyle looked like, and what his voice sounded like. Would he enjoy her cooking? How would he act when he saw her for the first time?
    So many questions plagued her, but she was excited nonetheless. She had done it. She was out of New York City and was moving to a new town, and God-willing a new life. Even now she felt goose bumps raise on her arms at the thrill of it all.
    She felt the coach slow down and she straightened in her seat and looked out the window. Through the dusty haze she could just make out the rough