Christmas Miracles: Mega Mail Order Bride 20-Book Box Set: Multi-Author Box Set

by Jenny Creek Tanner

  Lisa nodded at the letter on the table, reminding Sally that finishing the bill wasn't the end game here.

  “I'd say immediately,” she said.

  “You're probably right,” Sally agreed, suddenly tired beyond measure. “An onerous chore, to be sure.”

  “But one that definitely has to be done,” Lisa countered.

  “Tomorrow?” Sally suggested, not feeling much conviction about her ability or willingness to do that.

  “Absolutely,” she replied. Then she smiled, stifling a yawn. “Will you need any additional prompting from me?”

  “No, I don't think so,” Sally said, doing her best to manage a sweet smile. “You're right about the timing...it really does need to be done.”

  “Then I'll await your news,” Lisa said, knowing it was time to close up shop for the evening.

  “With great eagerness, to be sure.”

  Lisa was anxious about Sally's decision to make the brief walk home alone, but the distance was so short that the dangers seemed trivial to Sally.

  When she got home she was exhausted. But Sally remained troubled, to the point of knowing that sleep probably wasn't going to come to her on this fateful night.

  Now that she knew she needed to talk to her father, Sally knew that had to be done before she could be at peace with herself.

  Unfortunately, there was no way that was going to happen tonight. Sally knew that Harlan could be a night owl on occasion, but those times were rare, and Sally had noticed before entering the house that all the lights were off.

  That meant he'd gone to bed, of course. Sally and her father had basically split the large house in half when she'd gone to work for him after her mother died, with Harlan getting the much larger “half,” of course.

  Sally looked up at his window with a growing sense of wistfulness and nostalgia, realizing this would be one of the last times she would see him.

  When she got inside, Sally still had an urge to go up and see him even though Harlan had turned in. She had no idea what was driving that urge, other than her sense of longing, which Sally knew was at least partially due to fatigue.

  Then she heard a noise.

  It happened as Sally was hanging her coat up, just as her thoughts were turning to preparing for bed. She could only describe it to herself as a bumping around of sorts, but something told her it was more than that.

  Her instincts were confirmed when Sally heard a series of loud thumps coming from the stairs leading to her father's bedroom. Perhaps it was a burglar, she thought with alarm, and Harlan was hurt, or out cold, and in dire need of assistance.

  With that, Sally hurried to the stairs, her thoughts racing. She opened the French door to Harlan's side of the house, which was unlocked, as usual. She took a step toward the stairs, which were just a few feet from the door.

  But when Sally looked down at the floor, she realized instantly that there was no need for further explanation.

  Everything she needed to see was right in front of her.

  And there was nothing in the world that could have prepared for what it was.

  The young woman's body was lying at the foot of the stairs, twisted and crumpled, her leg outstretched and skewed at an odd angle. She was still moving, sort of, and the fact that she was mostly naked told Sally everything she needed to know.

  The woman was shockingly young—no older than Sally, in fact. And she might even be much younger.

  She started to moan as Sally watched and listened, and Sally quickly realized that the woman was quite inebriated. Sally felt the sudden urge to vomit, and she had to turn her head to squelch it, barely managing to keep the contents of her stomach intact.

  As much as she wanted to turn and run, Sally knew that she couldn't, at least not just yet. She needed to make sure the woman wasn't badly hurt, and Sally also needed to make sure the woman wasn't so drunk that she might succumb to alcohol poisoning.

  Sally watched for a few more seconds, and finally the woman began to come around. She watched her movements, which were jerky and spasmodic at first, until finally they became more coordinated.

  Sighing with relief, Sally waited until she was sure the woman was conscious, then fled before Harlan's partner for the night could see her. She would stay long enough to ensure the woman's safety to whatever extent that was possible, but there was no way Sally was going to clean up this particular mess for him.

  Because what she saw utterly disgusted her.

  Sally had heard the rumors while her mother was alive, that her father had taken up with various women, several of them quite young. She knew there was a good possibility it might be true, but Sally had avoided facing any actual verification of this for as long as possible.

  Now it was right in front of her, lying near the foyer of the house in which she lived. And there was no way Sally could be a part of that, no matter how much she owed her father for getting her started in a legislative career.

  In a way, though, it made Sally's decision easier. The vice grip that Jack and her father had on her had just tightened to the point of asphyxiation, and she knew her only option had just become crystal clear.

  It was time to go.

  They left at the crack of dawn, under the cover of darkness. Sally had been ready for the trip for some time, and she'd actually talked herself into the possibility that she might be able to leave at her leisure. She even had a secret fantasy in which she calmly told Harlan and he understood completely, then gave her his blessing to succeed out west.

  Unfortunately, the reality of their leaving was quite different, but it was simply the way things had to be.

  “You want to leave now?” Lisa asked sleepily when she answered Sally's urgent knock on her door. “Sally, I don't even know if that's possible, really. And they'll charge us through the nose for changing things at the last minute as well.”

  “I don't care,” Sally replied, determined to leave Maryland as quickly as possible. “There's been a new development.”

  “Uh oh,” Lisa said, frowning. “That doesn't sound good at all.”

  “It's not,” Sally said. “I found father with a young girl, several years younger than either one of us. She was drunk and passed out at the foot of the stairs near the foyer.”

  “Oh dear!” Lisa exclaimed. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” Sally said. “I'm sick to death of cleaning up my father's messes. This is the first time he was with a girl I'm sure wasn't of proper age.”

  “Does anyone know?”

  “I have no idea,” Sally replied. “And I have no intention of sticking around to find out.”

  Lisa sighed. “Well, I suppose we can always have the ticket cancelled and rewritten,” she mused. “Providing there's room on today's train.”

  “Please?” Sally begged, on the verge of tears. “I simply must go.”

  Lisa looked at her friend with deep sympathy. “Well, I do understand,” she said. “Give me a few minutes to pull myself together, and we'll get a carriage to take us over to the train station.”

  “Thank you so much,” Sally said. “You know it means the world to me.”

  They made it to the station without any problems, which in itself was a minor miracle of sorts. Getting a carriage at that unholy hour was no small feat, especially for a pair of young ladies intent on traveling alone.

  The ticket change also went off without a hitch, thanks mostly to Lisa. She really was a wonder when it came to negotiation and persuasion, and Sally thanked the Lord for Lisa's presence in her life.

  After what she'd just been through with her father, she knew there was no way she could have done all of this herself. Sally was simply in too much of an agitated state.

  Lisa managed to get them a spot on the 10 AM train for Chicago, which left them with a couple of hours to kill.

  Fortunately, there was a tea shop a couple of doors down from the train station, although they both knew it would never be the equal to Lucinda's, which Sally also knew they'd both miss de
arly.

  They paid a porter a princely sum to watch their bags and keep them safe until the train arrived, then walked to the shop to relax and try to unwind a bit before leaving.

  Unfortunately, there was no chance of that happening. As they were about to enter the tea shop, they saw a news crier a couple of doors down, yelling at the top of his lungs, which were definitely of the leather variety.

  “Extra, extra, read all about it!” he said, waving a single sheet rather than the usual broadsheet or tabloid. “Political scandal involving a Maryland legislator and a young girl!”

  Sally gasped, and Lisa quickly followed suit. “Oh no!” they both exclaimed, nearly simultaneously.

  Lisa looked at her friend, who'd turned white as a sheet. “You don't think. . .,” she said, unable to finish the sentence.

  “It's not possible,” Sally said. “The police can't know already. It's barely daylight.”

  Lisa looked at the news boy. “We do have to find out, though,” she said, taking a few tentative steps toward him.

  “I suppose you're right,” Sally agreed, sighing.

  Lisa paid the boy for the news sheet, which seemed pathetically threadbare once it was bought and paid for. It merely named Sally's father, Harlan Galvin, as the principal in the story, and of course the girl's name was left out due to reasons of propriety.

  She scanned it quickly and handed it to Sally, who read it and gasped.

  “Oh my goodness,” Sally said. “I had no idea.”

  “Indeed,” Lisa said, shaking her head grimly. “It seems the young girl had to be hospitalized, and she may in fact be dead, according to rumors from the usual 'sources.' So it doesn't leave us with much choice.”

  “I agree,” Sally said. “Now we have to get out. As quickly as possible.”

  Thankfully, the actual trip was uneventful by comparison. The train ride to Chicago was merely long and labored, with endless stretches of flat nothingness once they left the busyness of the Northeast.

  The enthusiasm of their initial conversations during the journey was dampened by Sally's news about the scandal. It made it feel a bit like they were running away from something, even though Lisa remained steadfast in her belief that they were doing the right thing.

  Once they reached Chicago, though, their trip took an adventurous turn. They were able to book rail passage to Omaha, although the scheduling and reliability of the trains themselves was definitely more tentative.

  Things got genuinely perilous in Omaha, where they quickly learned that there were track problems with the Omaha-to-Denver leg. The clerk told Lisa they were listing it as a three-day venture, but his description of the track damage made that estimate sound quite optimistic.

  “What do you think we should do?” Sally asked her when they stepped away from the ticket window.

  Lisa pursed her lips. “Stagecoach,” she replied. “Without a doubt.”

  “How do you know?” Sally asked.

  “I don't,” Lisa said, shrugging. “I'm just going with my gut here.”

  “You seem quite certain about it,” Sally commented.

  “Ha!” Lisa exclaimed. “Hardly.”

  “But you must be basing it on something other than your intuition.”

  “Somewhat,” Lisa added. “I've heard stories from some of the legislators who have either made the trip or knew someone who did. They all said that track problems were to be avoided at all costs.”

  Sally shrugged. “Stage coach it is, then,” she said. “So how do we find our would-be driver?”

  “I saw a couple of men out front who looked like they fit the bill,” Lisa said. “Let's go out and have a look.”

  Once they did, they realized that the situation might be quite competitive. There were a half-dozen stage coaches strategically positioned outside the station, and perhaps a dozen men hovering around them to see if they were worth hiring.

  The first thing Lisa and Sally both realized is that they were the only two women doing this. This would probably complicate things considerably, but Sally had great faith in Lisa's negotiation ability, and she was no slouch in that department, either.

  “Excuse me,” Lisa said, approaching one of the more civilized looking drivers who was busy brushing his horse. “Are you available for hire?”

  He turned slowly to face them, and Sally immediately liked his kind eyes, which she took as a good sign.

  “Yes, ma'am,” he said, tipping his cowboy hat, which seemed to have become an obligatory piece of garb once they'd gotten west of the Mississippi. “Name's Conrad Truman.”

  He looked at them curiously, definitely intrigued by the prospect of having female customers.

  “You ladies looking to go to Denver?” he asked.

  “Lisa Freeman,” she said, nodding at him. “Not exactly.”

  “Huh,” Conrad said. “That could be a mite difficult, depending on where you're headed.”

  Lisa got right to the point. “A small town east of Denver, to be more specific,” she explained. “A town called Last Chance.”

  “Of course!” he said, grinning. “I've heard it mentioned on numerous occasions, and I've actually been there myself. Are you two mail order brides?”

  Sally blushed, thinking about the letter and the arrangements, and Lisa answered for her.

  “I'm not, but I have heard the town is noted for that,” she said. “Would you be taking passengers in that direction?”

  “Sure,” he said agreeably, grinning at them. “If the price is right.”

  Lisa pursed her lips. “And what would the right price be, exactly?”

  “Well, I reckon fifty dollars might get you there quite nicely,” Conrad said. “If'n you can afford that.”

  “Possibly,” Lisa said, realizing the sum was at least slightly exorbitant. Still, Sally thought as she watched from behind Lisa, he did appear to have them slightly over a barrel. “How long would it take if we were to pay that amount?”

  He tilted his head in thought. “Two days, most likely. . .assuming all goes well.”

  Sally frowned, deciding to enter the conversation. “What does that mean?”

  Conrad shrugged. “This here's the frontier, ma'am,” he explained. “All sorts of things can go awry. There's rarely a guarantee on much of anything.”

  “I see,” Lisa said. “Well, how about if we alter your proposed arrangement a little bit?”

  “'Scuse me, ma'am?” he asked, smiling at her audacity. He shook his head in amusement. “Just what'd you have in mind?”

  “Twenty up front and thirty when we get there?” she proposed.

  “Hmm.” The stage driver considered her offer, then looked around. “If I'm slightly patient, I might get a better offer.” He scratched his head under the band of his cowboy hat. “Then again, I might not.”

  “True,” Lisa said, giving him a modified version of her killer smile. “But we do represent a sure thing.”

  “That you do,” he replied, nodding. Conrad looked around, noticing that several other drivers were staring eagerly at the women. “I reckon I could take you on for that rate.”

  “Good!” Lisa said. “When can we depart?”

  “Why, right now, if'n you're ready,” he replied. “You have baggage, I assume?”

  “Yes, of course,” Lisa said, remembering their arrangement with the porter. “It's inside, being attended to by a porter. Can you help us with it?”

  “Why, surely,” Conrad said. “And it's even included in the rate.”

  Sally grinned. She had a good feeling about Conrad Truman, and she hoped her intuition was as accurate as Lisa's had been in taking this particular path to Last Chance.

  “Lead on,” he said, tilting his head toward the station, “so's we can get this show on the road.”

  The road, such as it was, was bumpy indeed. Sally and Lisa were used to cobblestone streets that had been smoothed over for rich legislators, and they quickly learned that stage travel was a different sort of animal indeed.

&
nbsp; Once they got used to it, though, both women found it exhilarating. There were sights galore as they passed through the Kansas territory, from the huge fields of sunflowers bending up to kiss the sun to the various farms and grooved fields that were part and parcel of the landscape.

  The first day passed without significant incident, and finally it was time to stop for the night. They had no idea what was supposed to happen, until Conrad Truman steered the coach off the trail into a copse of trees.

  “This looks as likely a spot as any,” he said.

  “Spot for what?” Sally asked.

  “Why, for camping, of course,” Conrad replied. “Like I said back in Omaha, it's a two-day journey to Last Chance.”

  “Oh!” she said, panicking slightly as she looked at Lisa in alarm. “And you have everything we need for that?”

  “Mostly,” he said. “I take it you ladies don't have a tent as part of your luggage?”

  “Umm. . .no,” Lisa said. “We were assuming we'd be traveling by rail.”

  Conrad shrugged. “Common enough thing,” he said. “We can take care of that. Might be a bit of an unusual experience, though, it being your first night and all.”

  “Without a doubt,” Sally said. “Any suggestions?”

  He grinned. “Well, ignore the noise from the critters, fer starters,” he advised. “There's lots of 'em out here, but they shouldn't bother us. “It'll be cool at night fer sure, but this fall has been mild, so it shouldn't be too bad.

  As for the rest of it, just be open to the good and the bad of it, I'd say.”

  “Sound advice,” Lisa replied, looking around. “Just tell us what to do.”

  The experience definitely was different, Sally had to admit that. The canvas tents that Conrad hauled off the back of the stage coast were of the makeshift variety, and that was being generous.

  Moreover, there was nothing to cook, so Sally and Lisa had to make do with a dinner consisting of hardtack and venison jerky, the latter of which was definitely gamier than anything either of them had ever tasted.

  It was definitely a huge change from home-cooked meals in Lisa's apartment, and when they turned in just after sundown they reminisced fondly about those experiences, hoping they'd have similar ones soon in Last Chance.