“Hardy’s Saloon.” Trudy tossed a teasing smile over her shoulder at her husband. “Before we married, Seth spent a lot of time in there.” Seth groaned. “I haven’t set foot in the place for four and a half years.” Grace eyed the weather-beaten, false-fronted building before stopping to look at Frey, wondering if she needed to worry about him having a problem with drunkenness. “What about you?” “Yep,” he said cheerfully. “But like Seth, here, my days in Hardy’s have just passed, although they were quite memorable at the time. One of these days, I’ll regale you with tales, at least the tales that are fit for a lady’s ears.” Grace chuckled and exchanged a knowing glance with Mrs. Flanigan, who lifted her chin, indicating to continue walking. They reached the white wooden church. Sunlight illuminated the bell tower with a cross on top. Two horses hitched to a wagon were tied up at a post. Mrs. Flanigan tipped her head in that direction. “That’s ours. After the wedding, we’ll bring your things to Frey’s house.
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