The Dancing Lady: The Ninth Day (The 12 Days 0f Christmas Mail-Order Brides Book 9) Read online

  The Dancing Lady

  The Ninth Day

  Mimi Milan

  Eaton House

  Contents

  Untitled

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  The Lord - The Tenth Day Written by Danica Favorite

  Untitled

  The Dancing Lady

  © 2017 by Michele Claudio

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by EDH Graphics

  Created with Vellum

  Praise for Mimi Milan

  What others are saying about Mimi Milan’s books:

  “I thoroughly enjoyed A Rebel in Jericho. I felt that it was a great read. The plot was interesting and kept me turning the pages to find out what would happen next. The characters were well developed and interesting. I enjoyed the historical apsect and the description at the end of real events hinted at in the story. I like that the ending lends itself well to a sequel while effectively completing this story. I can't wait to read more by this author.

  I love that 20 percent of the sales from this book goes toward stopping human trafficking which is a bigger problem than we realize.”

  ~ Carrie, Reader ~

  “A Rebel in Jericho has a little of everything for its readers to enjoy. Suspense, romance, deception, and the desire to survive. Catalina has an incredible strength within herself, while at the same time showing just how vulnerable she is. I was intrigued to find out what twist and turns would take place next with every page I turned. I look forward to continuing reading this series and what other adventures are to come.”

  ~ Warrior Ground ~

  “This novel [Twice Redeemed] touches on human trafficking and tugs on the human heart. The author, Mimi Milan, is a master storyteller. She invites the reader into her fictional story world set in Mexico and drops them into the scene of action. The reader experiences the story as if they are an observer watching the story of Jericho unfold. As they turn each page, the readers become invested in the plot, grow fond of the good characters, want to silence the bad guys and care deeply about how the story ends.

  The author drives the characterization deep and paints a picture on every page. The descriptions of each setting are vivid and believable. The dialogue is engaging and fresh. The plot thickens with the turn of each page and the theme of God’s grace moves forward this story of redemption.

  I believe that this story is worth every bit of a five-star rating. It’s worthy of winning a literary award.”

  ~ Writer at Heart ~

  “I really enjoyed all three of the novellas in this series (the Angel Paws Rescue series). Each novella is surprisingly very different from the other, but each has a wounded veteran and an arts person as the hero and heroine with a pet/service animal adopted from Angel Paws Rescue. I recommend the series to anyone who enjoys clean, heart-warming contemporary romance.”

  ~ MH, Reader ~

  Acknowledgments

  I always like to take a moment in the beginning of any novel and thank those who came together to help me produce it. So, please excuse me if I gush over a couple of tried and true individuals. Amongst them would be, first and foremost, the Master Creator and Original Storyteller, without whom this series would have never come to be. I thank Him for walking with me every step of the way, but most of all for giving me the gift of stories. Without them, I would be lost.

  To my wonderful editor, Patricia Highton, you truly are the grammar girl extraordinaire. Eaton House has been made all the better because of your expertise and attention to detail. (By the way, I do know what ellipses are for. I just can’t help myself.)

  I also wish to show my appreciation for the family and friends who continue to show me support by continuing to read and provide useful feedback.

  To the cover artist for this particular project, Erin of EDH Graphics, thank you for creating such a timeless cover.

  To my husband, you get all my heartfelt gratitude once again for supporting me in a career that doesn’t quite pay the bills as well as it feeds the soul. Your never-ending support and encouragement are inspiring.

  Finally, I deeply appreciate all the readers out there who offer their support and allow me to entertain them with my books. I write these stories for you. May they continue to amuse, inform and inspire.

  Chapter 1

  Noelle, Colorado

  December 24, 1876

  Josefina was going to scream if she had to listen to one more complaint – especially from that Maybelle woman who was traveling with them. Santa Maria! The way the woman went on, you would have thought she was as entitled as she suggested instead of being stuck on this wagon like everyone else. Not that she really knew her story. She didn’t know – or care to know – any of the other brides Mrs. Genevieve Walters had procured for the men of Noelle. Although, maybe that wasn’t the right attitude to have about the entire affair. After all, some of the women seemed extremely kind and even generous with one another. She wondered if the same could be said about the man she was contracted to marry. He was asking a lot more of her than she could really give. The fault was more hers than his, though. She was the one who lied her way into the group. Not that she really wanted to be married. However, it seemed like the best solution at the time.

  But could she pull off the charade of being a domesticated woman?

  She pulled out the letter the intended groom sent only a few months prior and read it again.

  Dear Josefina Morales de Zapatero,

  Ojalá que todo vaya bien. I must admit that I am doing quite well myself – especially since receiving your letter. Rather, the letter Mrs. Walters of the Benevolent Society of Lost Lambs sent in your stead. It brings me great peace of mind to know that I have been blessed to find a woman with such wonderful qualities. When Mrs. Walters revealed that you are a God-fearing woman who can both cook and sew, I knew that it was no accident that our paths crossed. Perhaps you’ll find this a little bold, or maybe not since you are of such strong faith, but surely la Virgen has brought us together. What other explanation could there be of two Mexican Americans finding each other through a matchmaking service?

  Now, I honestly cannot boast about having any great skill or talent. At least not like you. I most certainly cannot stitch together fine articles of clothing, let alone something as intriguing as dancing shoes. However, I do enjoy dancing itself and while not the most graceful, I am certainly pleased to learn that it is a pastime we will be able to share together. In fact, I even have a guitar that I enjoy strumming now and then. It is only a little fun, but perhaps we can find a useful song or two.

  Of course, I do not want to leave you with the thought that I have absolutely nothing more to offer. When you arrive in our fine town, you will see first-hand how the name of Villanueva is one of protection and prosperity. As
the proprietor of a newly established restaurant, you will see that there is no finer dining anywhere in town. Together, working side by side to create dishes that can be savored by aroma alone, we can make Nacho’s Tacos even better. Yes, food is my greatest passion. It is a joy to know you feel likewise.

  I look forward to cooking up a wonderful future together. Until we meet, todo mi respecto y más.

  Sinceramente,

  Ignacio Villanueva

  Josefina neatly folded the letter. Glancing around to be sure no one was watching, she once again tucked it back into the safe space between her plump bosoms. Well, safe now that she was out of Denver and far from Hank’s Whisky River saloon. She could still kick herself for getting involved with the man and his horrid business to begin with. Why hadn’t she been smart enough to realize his idea of “dancing” was not the traditional steps her mother had taught her? Not that her mother had been any kind of saint herself.

  A small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth when she thought of the matriarch and her dastardly attempt to sell Josefina’s “flower” at the innocent age of seventeen. Thankfully, neither the buyer nor her mother could negotiate what either felt was a fair price and the deal fell through. However, the damage was already done. Shock turned into dismay which then rolled into bitter waves of distrust. Angry, she waited until her mother fell asleep one evening and swiped all the cash the two of them earned from their performances, or rather, from Josefina’s performances. After a nasty fall from a horse, her mother became more of a manager than a dancer. She booked performances in any place that would pay. From nice establishments to seedy saloons, they traveled all over the countryside together.

  It was a shame her mother had grown so greedy. It was equally terrible that Josefina reacted so harshly. Striking out on her own, she hadn’t half the connections her mother did. She didn’t have that winning personality to sell her performances either. It was too late to turn back, though. Word reached her several months after their parting that her mother had passed on.

  Then came along Hank and his lies. Low on money and food, she signed that contract without even reading it – not even realizing dancing was only one part of the requirements. Foolish girl! She did her best to not believe pretty words anymore. Not that she heard any other than the word “fina” when one of Hank’s customers showed her interest. The only benefit of that arrangement was the choice of who she privately entertained and that half the take was hers. So she was usually fortunate enough to have someone relatively handsome who practiced at least some form of personal hygiene.

  Was this Ignacio fellow handsome? If not, surely he was clean. After all, he worked in a kitchen.

  She thought about the letter again.

  Nachos Tacos. Food is my passion.

  Forget that he knew a couple of little dance steps or liked to fiddle with a guitar for fun. He was probably like those fat, rich ejidatarios in Mexico – with lots of land and luck. That’s what she was going to need if she was going to get her hand on enough money to find her father and sister.

  Luck… to learn how to cook!

  “I swear, my toes are going to fall off if we don’t get there soon!” Maybelle grumbled again.

  “Patience, ladies. We’re almost there.” The man driving the mule team (Woody, if Josefina recalled correctly) slapped the reins once more, urging the animals to pick up speed. He seemed nice enough, but she was glad she wasn’t marrying that one. She couldn’t imagine being stuck with a bunch of smelly beasts. Speaking of which…

  She looked over at another bride-to-be in the group and shook her head. There sat Molly Norris with that wretched goose of hers, gently cradling it like a newborn child. Beside her was another who actually did have a child with her.

  Santa Maria.

  Josefina shook her head and mentally crossed herself. And here she was thinking problems weighed her down. All she needed to do was learn how to cook. These women…

  These women!

  Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Maybe being a little more sociable wasn’t such a bad idea. If she befriended the other brides, then perhaps she could convince one or two of them to share their recipes with her. She would be cooking up mouthwatering meals at Nacho’s Tacos in no time! Then she and this Nacho would say “I do” and her husband would be obligated to help find her family. No decent, self-respecting man would do less.

  “Whoa,” Woody called out to the mules as they finally descended upon the town and stopped out front of a building with a sign that read, The Golden Nugget. “Here we are, ladies. Just head on in so the Reverend can get to performing the weddings.”

  There was a gasp amongst the group, followed by a myriad of murmured questions.

  “What did he say?”

  “In the saloon?”

  “How can he marry us in there?”

  “I’m not saying ‘I do’ in front of a bottle of rotgut!”

  Mrs. Walters waved her hands to get their attention. “Now, girls, don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a suitable explanation here,” she turned towards the saloon door with a quiet growl rumbling from beneath her breath, “there better be.”

  Josefina frowned as she and the other women stumbled through the snow and into the saloon. Of all the places, why were they here? She didn’t mind so much that the weddings weren’t being held inside a church. But a saloon? It looked like she had escaped one – only to end up in another!

  If one thing was for certain, though, they were about to find out what the men of Noelle were up to Mrs. Walters would see to that! She stormed ahead of the group, her entire form – from flashing eyes to heavy footfall – all full of fury. Her growing temper blazed in her green eyes as she approached a man dressed like clergy. “The esteemed Reverend Hammond, I presume?”

  Josefina had to hand it to their custodian. The woman could remain completely poised while still thoroughly expressing her displeasure in such a manner that an individual would have to take leave of their mental faculties to cross her more than once. Why, Josefina remembered this one time in Denver when a man whistled at one of the girls while they were leaving.

  “The nerve of that man!” Mrs. Walters rambled on about the benefits of horsewhipping the Reverend or some such. Josefina couldn’t tell exactly, having been distracted by Molly who was desperately trying to keep her goose hidden.

  “Afraid your friend might end up on the menu?” she teased the woman.

  “Very funny, Fina.” Molly rolled her eyes. “You know how he gets around new people. I don’t want him thinking it’s necessary to defend me if my intended tries to… well, you know, greet me with an embrace or something.”

  Josefina thought about her own intended and grimaced. She hadn’t thought much about how they would greet each other. She scanned the room of men, trying to guess which one might be hers. So far, no one was coming forward to claim her. At least she hadn’t suffered Felicity’s fate, though. The groom took one look at her and hightailed it out of there. She looked over at the bride-not-to-be. She seemed lost in thought.

  That one… always gathering the wool.

  “Hey, nena.” Josefina snapped her fingers in front of the Felicity’s face. The woman jumped. “Looks like we’re leaving.”

  Felicity mentioned something about strategizing instead of daydreaming. Josefina couldn’t fault her for it. She was doing a bit of “strategizing” herself so she could get back to her father and sister.

  She would rather do it in a place that was warm and cozy, though.

  “Vamos,” she urged the other women forward. The Reverend apparently found better quarters than the saloon they were currently standing in, and she wanted to get there fast!

  The women shuffled out and were once again out in the cold, but the wagons were already put up. So, they steadily lumbered down the town’s center street towards their new destination, the weight of the weather visibly affecting all of them. Josefina noted the women in the group. She could admit she admired several of them. That Minni
e Gold for instance. For someone who spent her whole life as a poor orphan, serving her family as a maid, she appeared quite noble. The way she marched down the street, head held high as she braced the cold… Well, her fortitude was certainly something to respect.

  Unlike Maybelle’s disposition.

  “Now we have to walk? I have never!”

  Josefina had “never” either. As in she had never said anything too ugly to another woman. She didn’t want to begin now, either. Ignoring the cantankerous bride as best she could, she turned her attention to the buildings that lined the streets. There were several she knew she would want to visit one day soon, but her main concern at the moment was the one that appeared to be Nacho’s Tacos.

  No puede ser.

  Josefina couldn’t believe the small log building was Señor Villanueva’s restaurant.

  “Fine dining indeed,” she mumbled.

  “What was that?” Her head snapped up to find Kezia Merga, a beautiful gypsy widow with a quizzical look on her face, gently rocking her baby hidden beneath a thick cloak.

  “Nada,” Josefina quickly muttered. Having to explain to her new groom why she came with a baby in tow, the woman was bound to have enough trouble. No reason to give her any more with petty gripes. A thought flashed in Josefina’s mind, though. The woman was a mother. Perhaps she knew her way around the home. If so, Josefina could offer to watch the child in exchange for a recipe or two. It was worth the consideration. She gave the woman a nod, her chin leading first. “You look… how can I say… bien lista. You know, like a worldly woman who might know a thing or two. Si?”