PART 1: THE MISSING PREACHER AND THE VANISHING WEDDING FEAST

At exactly eleven o’clock on a beautiful Saturday morning in Montana, cowboy Jack Whitmore was supposed to marry the prettiest woman in three counties.

Instead, he was standing outside the church, holding a wedding ring in one hand and a half-eaten biscuit in the other, while his future mother-in-law screamed that the preacher had run away with the cook.

“HE DID WHAT?” Jack shouted.

“You heard me!” Martha Bennett snapped. “Reverend Collins is gone! So is that redheaded woman who was supposed to cook our wedding dinner!”

Jack stared at her.

“Maybe they’re getting more potatoes.”

“WITH TWO SUITCASES?”

Jack slowly lowered his biscuit.

That did seem excessive for potatoes.

Inside the little white church, one hundred and eighty-seven guests were waiting. The flowers were arranged, the musicians were ready, and the bride, Emily Bennett, had spent three hours getting into a wedding dress that cost more than Jack’s favorite horse.

Everything was perfect.

Except the two most important people responsible for feeding everyone and making the marriage official had apparently disappeared together.

And things were about to get considerably worse.

“Jack!”

His best friend, Billy Dawson, came sprinting across the churchyard, his cowboy hat bouncing wildly.

“I’ve got news!”

“You found the preacher?”

“No.”

“The cook?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Billy swallowed.

“The wedding cake is missing too.”

Jack closed his eyes.

“Of course it is.”

“And the roast beef.”

“Wonderful.”

“And the potatoes.”

Jack opened one eye.

“Billy, if you tell me the whiskey is missing, I’m canceling the whole wedding.”

“Well…”

“BILLY!”

“The whiskey’s still here!”

Jack sighed in relief.

“Thank the Lord. At least somebody showed up for this wedding.”

Unfortunately, the Lord’s representative had not.

Reverend Samuel Collins, sixty-two years old, had served the small Montana town of Clearwater for nearly thirty years. He had performed baptisms, funerals, and more weddings than anyone could count.

He was also famous for two things: preaching extremely long sermons and never being late.

Which made his sudden disappearance particularly suspicious.

The cook, Ruby McAllister, was a fiery redhead in her early forties who had arrived in town six months earlier and quickly earned a reputation for making the best biscuits in Montana.

She also had a temper that could frighten a rattlesnake.

Three days earlier, Ruby and Reverend Collins had been seen arguing behind the church.

And now both were gone.

With the food.

And the cake.

By eleven fifteen, the entire town had reached the same conclusion.

The preacher and the cook had fallen in love and run away together.

Everyone believed it.

Everyone except the bride.

“Something’s wrong,” Emily whispered.

She was standing in the church’s back room, looking through the window at her increasingly confused groom.

Her younger sister, Lucy, was adjusting the lace on her dress.

“Of course something’s wrong. Your preacher ran off with the woman who made your wedding cake.”

“That’s exactly why it doesn’t make sense.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Love rarely does.”

“Reverend Collins is afraid of horses, Lucy. Ruby drives a wagon pulled by two enormous draft horses. He wouldn’t willingly climb onto that wagon if someone offered him a thousand dollars.”

Lucy considered this.

“Maybe love gave him courage.”

Emily turned toward her sister.

“Or maybe something happened that nobody wants us to know.”

Outside, Jack had made a decision.

He was going to find another preacher.

Unfortunately, Clearwater had only one.

The next nearest minister lived twenty miles away, and the road between the towns had been washed out by Thursday’s storm.

Jack considered asking the mayor.

The mayor was currently sitting behind the church drinking wedding whiskey and arguing with a goat that had eaten his hat.

Jack decided against it.

“What about Judge Peterson?” Billy suggested.

“He’s in Helena visiting his daughter.”

“Sheriff Miller?”

“He’s not authorized to marry anybody.”

“What about old Mrs. Jenkins? She married three husbands.”

“Billy, being married three times doesn’t qualify you to perform weddings.”

“Well, she certainly has experience.”

Jack stared at his friend.

“Sometimes I wonder how you manage to remember to breathe.”

Then, from the far end of Main Street, someone shouted.

“I FOUND A PREACHER!”

Every head turned.

It was Tommy Briggs, the town’s sixteen-year-old stable boy, riding toward the church on a tired mule.

Behind him sat a tall, broad-shouldered stranger dressed in black, carrying a leather Bible.

The stranger looked to be about forty-five, with a neatly trimmed beard, gray eyes, and the tired expression of a man who had seen too much foolishness in his life.

Tommy practically fell off the mule.

“Found him staying at the boardinghouse! Says he used to preach over in Wyoming!”

Jack hurried forward.

“Sir, are you a minister?”

“I was,” the stranger replied.

“Can you perform a wedding?”

“I suppose I could.”

Jack grabbed his hand.

“You’re the answer to my prayers!”

The stranger looked at the crowded church, the decorations, and the enormous gathering of hungry people.

“What’s the hurry?”

“Our preacher disappeared with our cook.”

The man’s expression changed.

“Your cook?”

“Yes. Woman named Ruby McAllister. Red hair. Makes incredible biscuits. Apparently steals preachers.”

The stranger went completely still.

“Ruby McAllister?” he repeated.

“You know her?”

For a long moment, the man said nothing.

Then he smiled.

It was not a particularly comforting smile.

“Oh, I know Ruby.”

Jack grinned.

“Wonderful! Maybe you can help us find her after the ceremony.”

“I certainly intend to.”

“What’s your name, Reverend?”

“Nathaniel Brooks.”

Jack shook his hand again.

“Reverend Brooks, you’ve just saved my marriage.”

Nathaniel looked toward the empty road leading out of town.

“We’ll see about that.”

Twenty minutes later, the wedding was finally ready to begin.

The musicians started playing.

The guests stood.

Jack took his place at the altar, trying desperately not to think about the missing roast beef.

Emily appeared at the church doors on her father’s arm.

Jack forgot everything else.

She looked beautiful.

More beautiful than the mountains at sunrise. More beautiful than the first snowfall on the ranch. More beautiful, Jack privately admitted, than his horse Thunder.

And that was saying something.

Emily smiled when she saw him.

For one wonderful moment, all the trouble seemed worth it.

She walked down the aisle.

Her father placed her hand in Jack’s.

Reverend Brooks opened his Bible.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—”

Suddenly, the church doors flew open.

BANG!

Every guest jumped.

A familiar voice rang through the church.

“STOP THE WEDDING!”

Reverend Samuel Collins stood in the doorway, sweating heavily, his white collar crooked and his boots covered in mud.

Beside him stood Ruby McAllister.

Her beautiful red hair was tangled, her apron was torn, and she was holding what appeared to be the top half of a three-tier wedding cake.

Jack threw his hands into the air.

“WHERE HAVE YOU TWO BEEN?”

Ruby opened her mouth.

Then she looked toward the altar.

Her eyes landed on Reverend Nathaniel Brooks.

The wedding cake slipped from her hands.

It hit the floor with a terrible splat.

Ruby turned pale.

“Nathaniel?” she whispered.

The replacement preacher slowly closed his Bible.

“Hello, Ruby.”

The entire church went silent.

Jack looked from Ruby to Nathaniel.

“You two know each other?”

Ruby took one step backward.

“Jack,” she said shakily, “please tell me you haven’t let that man marry you.”

“Not yet. Why?”

Nathaniel smiled again.

“Because, Jack, Ruby seems to have forgotten to mention one small detail.”

He looked directly at the terrified cook.

“She’s my wife.”

One hundred and eighty-seven guests gasped.

Emily dropped her bouquet.

Jack stared at the man standing between him and his bride.

And Ruby, looking as though she might faint, whispered six words that made the situation even worse.

“I thought you were still in prison.”