Mia sat on the rickety bench facing the train tracks, the hot sun baking her pale skin. Growing up in New York, she wasn’t used to heat like this, much less being out in it. Even working as a schoolteacher afforded her some luxuries, and one of them was staying indoors out of the sun. It simply wasn’t proper to have anything but creamy skin, and the intense light would do untold damage to her complexion. She would probably end up with a million freckles.

She stared out at the barren landscape and let out another sigh. Yes, there were trees and the area was rolling, but everything was brown and baked. In the distance, a funnel of dirt rose in a swirling pattern and raced across a field. What had she gotten herself into? She had to leave the school and New York, though. Staying in the same city, no matter how large it was, hadn’t been an option.

Pulling down on the wide brim of her hat, she managed to keep most of the mid-day sun off her face. She tucked her gloves into the sleeves of her jacket and rested her hands on top of the small printed carpetbag in her lap. She traced the pretty red rose and the surrounding green leaves. The bag had been a going away present from Madam Wigg. She prayed whatever illness her dear friend suffered would not be as serious as the doctor had foretold. She couldn’t imagine someone as caring and vivacious as Wiggie gone from this earth.

Her thoughts turned back to the night her life had changed. The night Amanda’s arm had been broken. The next morning, Madam Wigg finally got the truth from poor Amanda. She had never seen her mentor so furious. The three girls had been severely punished, especially the oldest, who seemed to be the biggest troublemaker. According to Amanda and a few of the other students Mia had talked to, the girl was just mean.

Poor Brian hadn’t left Amanda’s side the entire day. He brought her meals to her and made sure she was comfortable. He even read to her, which he hated doing. Mia couldn’t help but smile as she recalled the last time she’d seen them. She’d wanted to say goodbye and had stuck her head into the room only to find them both asleep, Amanda’s blonde hair spread out on the pillow like an angel's, and Brian’s dark head a stark contrast beside hers. Their fingers were linked together between them.

Mia hadn’t wanted to leave the children or New York City. The school had been her home for so long—the only one she’d ever known. If she tried really hard, she had flashbacks of a darker time when she was maybe five, but all she could remember was pain. And the blurry faces of two boys, but who they were she had no idea. In fact, she hadn’t remembered that much until she heard the doctor’s voice and it had been all she could do to breathe.

The moment Madam Wigg saw the terror on her face, she had known something was wrong but running from the room like a complete ninny hadn’t helped the situation. Where had all the decorum lessons gone? Mia bit back a chuckle. Evidently, they'd flown out the window on the first trial. Suggesting she choose one of the men’s letters had been a wonderful idea…at least she’d thought so at the time. Now, glancing at the nothingness of Eufaula, she wasn’t quite so certain any longer.

The only buildings she had seen from the train were situated along Main Street, which was nothing more than a narrow dirt road. There was a small store and a building beside it with a sign in the window that read The Indian Journal. There was another small building on the corner with the word ‘Bank’ painted in gold on the front door window, and at the far end of town stood a livery. To her, though, this reminded her of some of the poorest areas back home.

”Miss! Miss!”

Mia glanced toward the voice, but her gaze moved a bit further, past the man she’d talked to earlier inside the station to focus on the man behind him closing the door. He turned toward her, hat in hand, and her breath caught in her throat.

“My, oh my, oh my,” she whispered. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from him if she’d tried. She had never seen such a handsome man in her life. He casually brushed his dark brown hair back as he walked toward her, the ends curling along wide shoulders that couldn’t be hidden beneath his gray frock coat. His hair still looked damp, as if he’d taken the time for a bath. Nor could his trim waist be hidden behind the lighter gray vest, and she couldn’t remember ever seeing thighs quite as thick as his. He fairly took her breath away.

The train agent stopped a few feet away and mopped the sweat from his brow with a dirty red rag. “Miss, I have someone here who seems to think yer here cuz of him?”

Mia stood, willing her shaking legs to hold her weight as the handsome stranger moved around the other man and stopped in front of her. She was ever so conscientious of her every flaw: the way her ears stuck out, her lack of a proper bath for the past several days, her filthy dress, and no matter how hard she tried to hide them, she just knew she had sweat stains. Sitting in a hot train day after day had been miserable for her. Cleanliness was one thing she had always insisted on at the school, and she desperately needed that routine.

The man stopped in front of her, and she was drawn to his beautiful brown eyes. He didn’t smile, so she didn’t either. Was he upset or simply serious? She liked his mouth and the small cleft in his rounded chin, but she couldn’t help but think this was a horrible way to begin a relationship.

He tilted his head slightly to one side. “My name is Josiah West. Might you be Miss Mia Bradley from New York City?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“I know this is short notice, but we really must hurry. “The preacher is waiting for us at the church.”

She frowned, not quite certain she heard him right. “Excuse me? Why would there be a preacher waiting?”

“Well, I received your letter five days ago, and there’s been a whirlwind of activity getting everything ready for your arrival—including a wedding. Wouldn’t be proper taking you to the house without being married first, and there’s nowhere else for you to stay.”

Josiah turned to the other man, who stood beside her large trunk. “Think you can help me get that to the wagon, Olly?”

“Sure thing, Josiah. Don’ have much else to do ‘round here til the next train comes through.”

Mia followed the two men across the platform and down the two steps toward the only wagon parked in front of the station. The beautiful cream-colored horse hitched to it looked too large to pull the small wooden box. She stopped several feet away and stared, noticing how the horse’s pale blue eyes seemed to follow her every movement like it didn’t trust her. Truth be told, she didn’t trust the large animal. In her book, anything that big was not trustworthy.

The men hefted her trunk into the back of the wagon without any difficulty. Josiah walked around to the front and held out his hand. Mia stared down at it a moment then took a deep breath and placed hers in his warm grip. She stepped up on the single step then sat on the bench and smoothed her wrinkled skirt as he took his place beside her.

The wagon lurched sideways as the horse turned the vehicle away from the station, the wheels catching in the deep ruts. Fearing she would end up lying in a heap in the street, with one hand she grabbed the metal rail running along the top of the bench and the other hand reached out for what she thought was Josiah’s arm. But, as the wagon settled into a steady rhythm, she was mortified to realize her hand gripped Josiah’s muscled thigh, not his arm.

Whipping her hand back to her lap, she mumbled a quiet apology and turned her head, keeping her red face directed toward the scenery so he wouldn’t see her discomfort. As the silence surrounded her, she began to relax, thankful he hadn’t said anything or made a big deal like the men back home would have. The ones she had known would have simpered or tried to say something cute or coy. At least Josiah seemed different in that respect. She liked him for that.

Several miles passed, and the scenery changed from low lands to more trees, thicker and much prettier. She loved all greenery, especially after a good rain. They turned down a narrow lane, the ruts deeper and the wagon a bit bouncier. Through the foliage, she could just make out the silvery glint of water, which seemed to snake alongside the road.

“Is that a river?”

“That’s the North Canadian River. It flows about a half a mile from the house, which makes watering the garden a chore, but at least it isn’t farther.”

“At least you have a garden.”

He grimaced. “I wouldn’t exactly call the dust-filled spot of earth a garden, but it is where vegetables are supposed to be growing.”

She swallowed her laugh. “Dust-filled spot of earth? That’s a descriptive image, I’ll give you that. I take it you either don’t want to walk to the river or it hasn’t rained?”

He gave her a quizzical sideways look. “I am not lazy, if that’s what you are implying,” he said in a haughty tone.

She tried and failed to hold back her smile this time. “I guess I owe you an apology then, and I’m sorry. So, it hasn’t rained enough for anything to grow.”

“Well, there’s that and the fact that I was almost two months late planting the darn thing.”

She quirked one brow. “Why were you so late? If Eufaula is as small a town as I believe it is—at least from what I saw from the train as I rode into town—you might need to live on that food during the winter.”

The wagon lurched to a stop, and Josiah set the brake and turned on the seat. “It’s a long story, which will keep for the trip home. Right now, we have a wedding to attend, Miss Bradley.” He jumped down and walked around to her side and held up his hand. This time, she didn’t hesitate and placed her hand in his and carefully climbed down from the wagon.

The small white church was tucked into the trees. It looked lonely but quaint. There were stairs leading up to a single door. The roof above the door rose to a steep point and on top sat a steeple with a small brass bell nestled inside. Somewhere close, she heard the gurgling of water as it moved over rocks.

Mia walked beside Josiah toward the church, and her nervousness grew until her limbs fairly shook from fear. She had known answering his letter meant she would have to say marriage vows. What she hadn’t prepared for was saying them so soon. As they walked up the steps, the door opened and a pleasant-looking man stood just inside the one-room church. He was short, carrying extra weight around his middle. He had thick white hair, slicked back and long enough to curl around his white collar, and he was dressed in the typical black jacket, pants, and boots of the clergy.

“You’re late, Josiah,” the preacher said, a slight grin on his face.

Josiah placed his hand on the small of Mia’s back and led her into the church, setting her heart into a panicked flutter. Her attention fractured, focusing first on the looming alter in front of them then back to where his hand rested on her back.

“Breathe, iskitini chukfi luma,” Josiah whispered in her ear.

“What does that mean?” Mia asked.

“It means little rabbit in Choctaw.”

She twisted her head to give him a quick glare as they stopped in front of the altar. “Why do you know Choctaw?”

The preacher stepped behind the altar and opened the large Bible propped there. He cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “I understand from you, Josiah West, you wish to be married in the Christian way to Miss Mia Bradley?”

“Yes, Reverend Moody, I do.”

Mia’s frown deepened as the unsettled feeling grew. She was missing something. She glanced from the reverend to Josiah. “The Christian way? And why do you know Choctaw?”

“And do you, Miss Mia Bradley, wish to be married in the Christian way to Josiah West?” Reverend Moody again interrupted.

It was decision time, and she had no idea what to do. For the first time in her life, she took a leap of faith and nodded to the preacher. “Yes, sir, I do.”

Reverend Moody smiled down at them. “Then with the power invested in me by God the Father Almighty, I pronounce you husband and wife. Josiah, you may kiss your new bride.”

Josiah gave her a reassuring smile and cradled her face in his hands. He took a step toward her, and she fell into his dark gaze, which never left hers. Mesmerizing was a good word to describe him. She held her breath as he slowly moved toward her. Her heart beat painfully against her ribs with each measured movement until she wanted to scream. The moment his mouth met hers, all thoughts disappeared, with her only focus the softness of his lips.

Somewhere close by, she heard a throat clear. Much to her dismay, Josiah pulled away, leaving her feeling somehow bereft and alone, although why she had no idea. She had just met the man.

The preacher reached over the altar and held out his hand, which Josiah took with his own and gave it a brisk shake. “Congratulations, young man. May you and the missus have a good marriage.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Hear you had a house raising this week in preparation for today. Best get Mrs. West on home so she can tell you what she wants and where. If I know women, and I do with four sisters, one wife, and three daughters of my own, you need to let her make the final decision on anything house related or you will never hear the end of it.”

Mia couldn’t help but smile at his jubilant expression. She liked Reverend Moody and hoped they would be attending this rural church. He was personable, which wasn’t at all like the priests she was used to back in New York City. There, she only attended the local Catholic church where they tended to be a bit on the proper and stuffy side. The only way to talk to someone had been in a confession box. Even the few nuns she had seen hadn’t been very welcoming. Maybe she had attended the wrong church all those years and never knew it.

They said their goodbyes and once back in the wagon, started the drive toward Eufaula. Mia sat in silence, watching the scenery pass. In the short partial day she’d been here, it had somehow grown on her. She liked the openness, yet at the same time there were enough trees to give the landscape a bit of color and beauty as it rolled from hill to valley to hill. Dotted here and there, she saw only a few simple homes, with one even tucked in among the trees. After that, there was nothing else for several miles.

“You never answered my question in the church.”

“I know.”

“Fine, be stubborn. Tell me about yourself. I know you’re a preacher—Methodist, correct?”

“Yes.”

Mia gave him a frustrated scowl. “Is it always going to be this difficult talking to you? I’m not asking hard questions. I’m asking things most people already know about each other before they get married.”

“What about you? Would you be so willing to share personal information if I asked you questions?”

She shrugged, certain she could answer anything he asked.

“Why do you keep rubbing your arm?”

“I don’t.”

“You’re doing it right now.”

She glanced down with a frown and pulled her hand away from her arm. She hadn’t even been aware she had been rubbing the old break, which told her she was more stressed than she realized. “When I was five years old, the owner of the Foundling home where I worked found me on the front doorstep with a note pinned to my blanket.”

“What did the note say?”

“Madam Wigg told me by the time she was able to get it out of my grasp, most of the graphite had been rubbed off or smudged, but from what she could still make out, she thought it said my name was Mia Bradley and that my arm had been broken in a terrible accident. Sometimes when I’m agitated, worried, or the weather changes, it bothers me and I rub it because it aches a bit.”

“So you were an orphan and then became a teacher?”

“I was. The Foundling home was a good place to grow up. Madam Wigg, Wiggie as we all knew her, is the school’s benefactress. She made sure we were all well taken care of, and most of the original girls she took in all stayed on as teachers.”

“Did you have any close friends?”

“Over the years, quite a few, but my closest friends are Jessamine, Katriona, and Leanna. As far as I know, they are all three still at the school but will soon choose their own letters.”

“They will become mail-order brides, too?”

Mia nodded. “Wiggie is in failing health and believes this is the best solution for all the teachers. That way, she knows we will all be taken care of.” She said a little prayer that Wiggie would recover from whatever malady she suffered. She glanced over and noticed a large, newly painted two-story home.

The covered porch drew her attention. It ran along the entire front of the home and along both sides. There were two large windows on the front and at least as many on one side of the house, which pleased her immensely. There was nothing worse than living in dark rooms, which was something she’d disliked about the school. For her, there had never been enough light.

“This is your home?” she asked, noticing the brief flicker of apprehension that crossed Josiah’s face.

“This is our home. Do you like it?”

“Oh, Josiah, it’s wonderful.”

“To answer your earlier question, Mia, I speak fluent Choctaw because my father was Choctaw. I am part Creek and part German on my mother’s side.”

Mia’s gaze flew to his face, her eyes wide. “You are almost full-blood Indian?”

“I am.”

“Oh, my.”