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

by Jenny Creek Tanner

  All in all, though, the trip seemed to be going well. There'd been no robbers or Apache attacks, both of which Conrad had warned them about.

  Instead there was just miles and miles of the same scenery, which seemed to take forever to shift. There was plenty to take in for sure, but sometimes the monotony of it was mind-numbing compared to the constant busyness of Annapolis and the surrounding area.

  Thankfully, the fact that it was mild made the midday sun more than bearable and aside from a couple of hours in the early afternoon it was actually a pleasure soaking it in.

  They made good time once they hit the prairie in eastern Colorado, and Conrad assured them they had a decent chance of making it to Last Chance well before dark. Thankfully, that would spare them another day of camping that neither woman wanted to endure.

  “So what's Last Chance going to be like?” Sally yelled up to Conrad as they made their final push across the prairie.

  “Peaceful,” he said. “Judging by the times I've been there.”

  He paused and slapped the reins, spurring the horses on. “Course I've only been there a few times, and I ain't stayed for long when I did go through there,” Conrad added.

  “How big is it?” Lisa asked.

  “Smallish,” he replied, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the clatter of the horse's hooves on the dry, dusty prairie. “But I hear it's been growin' at a pretty good clip.”

  “Really?” Sally asked.

  “Uh huh,” Conrad said. “Folks have been comin' from all over to do all sorts of interestin' things,” he added.

  “Like what?” Lisa chimed in.

  “Hmm.” He paused and gave it a moment's thought. “Well, I do know there's a lot of buildin' going on there right now,” he said. “I've heard there's a fella there that's an experienced builder from Denver, a man by the name of McCourty, and he's been puttin' up all kinds of stuff.”

  “That sounds encouraging,” Sally said. “We will definitely be looking for housing when we get there.”

  “Shouldn't have too much trouble there,” he said, launching a gob of tobacco spit to the side of the stage. “I've even heard there's a fella there who's some kind of writer or something, does Western stories or something like that.”

  “Really!” Lisa exclaimed. “Now that does sound fascinating. Any chance you'd know of where we can find some of his work?”

  “Huh,” Conrad stroked his whiskers thoughtfully. “Not sure if they've got a library there or not yet,” he mused. “I expect it shouldn't be too hard once you're in town.”

  Then he remembered something else. “I heard tell they've even got one of them observatories there,” he added. “For lookin' at the stars and such.”

  “Seriously?” Sally exclaimed. “In Last Chance?”

  “Yup. I wanted to check it out my last time there, but I didn't get the chance,” Conrad lamented.

  “Sounds like quite the busy place,” Lisa commented.

  “Without a doubt,” he verified. “Last I heard, there was some kinda rumors about an election of some sort.”

  “Really now!” the two women exclaimed, voicing the sentiment at nearly exactly the same moment. They looked at each other and giggled, and Sally made the remark that was hovering in both of their minds.

  “Now that does sound right up our alley!”

  The spent the rest of the trip pumping poor Conrad Truman for information. Sadly, though, he wasn't exactly a wellspring on that front.

  He barely knew anything about the local politics or the politicians, although he was able to tell them that the mayor, Owen Standard, had been established there for years and was known as a fine leader throughout the territory.

  “So why is there an election?” Sally said after she and Lisa had hopped up on top of the stage to join Conrad in his perch. “Is it a regular occurrence?”

  The ride was a lot bumpier, and the interior of the coach got quite dusty and stuffy by the middle of the day, so they were happy to be out in the open. Especially since it gave them the chance to draw every last tidbit of info from Conrad.

  “I ain't exactly sure,” he said. “I guess it's because they ain't had one in a long time. Maybe it had something to do with the town bylaws or somethin'.”

  Sally wanted to know much more, of course, but it was quite clear that Conrad wouldn't have the answers to many of their questions. His interest in the political process was minimal, to say the least, especially since the nature of his job was so itinerant.

  “Do you know anything else about it?” Lisa asked, desperate to unearth any last crumb.

  “Not really,” he began. “'Cept I know it's been stirring up a lot of interest out on the prairie, from what I hear. There's a reporter from a paper called the Frontier Times who's been covering the election.”

  “Really!” Sally exclaimed, looking over at Lisa and grinning. “Well, we happen to know a little something about that particular newspaper.”

  “Do tell,” Conrad said. “Well, he's been a busy fella from what I've heard.”

  “What do you mean?” Lisa asked.

  “Keep in mind that I don't know much about this,” he began, launching another tobacco bomb past Sally. “So I might be a little sketchy on the details here.

  "But from what I know there's this young politician type out there who's been stirrin' up all kinds of trouble with this here election,” Conrad added.

  “A young man?” Sally asked eagerly. “What's he been doing?”

  He shrugged. “I just read some kinda article about it in the Frontier Times from that reporter fella I mentioned,” Conrad continued. “It said that this fella has been running for mayor and bringing all sorts of new-fangled politics and ideas into the whole operation. Kinda has some folks out there on edge a bit from what I've heard.”

  “Well, that's certainly fascinating,” Lisa said, grinning at Sally. “Any idea what his name is and where he's from?”

  “I think so,” the stage driver said, fingering his whiskers. “Gimme a second here and I think I might be able to remember it.”

  “Take your time,” Sally said softly as he tapped the reins again, urging the horses on. A town of sorts appeared on the horizon, and both women wondered if it might be Last Chance.

  “Oh yeah, now I got it,” Conrad said. “His name starts with a “C,” just like mine, that's why it took me a bit.”

  “So what is it?” Lisa asked.

  “I believe it's Carson, if I'm not mistaken,” he said. “Carson Jackson.

  And from what I hear he's from Denver.”

  Lisa elbowed Sally gently in the ribs. “I do believe we might know this gentleman,” she said. “Or at least know of him.”

  “Well, he don't like to sit still too much, from what I've heard,” he added.

  “He's just itchin' to win this election and become mayor of Last Chance.”

  “So is this Last Chance?” Sally asked as they drew closer to the town.

  “Yes ma'am,” Conrad said, nodding firmly. “I suppose I could be mistaken, but I am sure I did see First View—or at least the remains of it.”

  “First View?” Lisa asked.

  “Uh huh. Another town close by, burned down in a fire,” he explained. “Heard some stories about that as well.”

  “This certainly is a busy place,” Sally commented.

  “It can be,” Conrad agreed, smiling. “Things tend to move fast out here in the territory, that's for sure.”

  “So do you know anything about our hotel?” Lisa asked, always eager to get a jump on making whatever arrangements were necessary. “I believe it's called the Lazy Layabout.”

  He nodded. “Right next to town hall, more or less. That's generally where I drop off and pick up my passengers.”

  “Is it a nice place?” Sally asked anxiously.

  “Oh yeah,” Conrad replied. “Especially when you consider what you normally run into out on the prairie, especially in the small towns. It's definitely peaceful, and a nice place to re
st your bones to boot.”

  “Well, we definitely need that,” Sally replied. “It has been a grueling trip, although we appreciate all your efforts to make it as comfortable as possible.”

  The stage driver shrugged. “That's my job, ma'am,” he said. “And I must say it's been nice to have female company on this particular trip. You're both good people.”

  Lisa smiled, knowing how far that small gesture could go with a man like Conrad, who probably lived a lonely life.

  “We definitely appreciate all you've told us,” she said sweetly. “You've been a great help.”

  Conrad grinned in return. “Happy to help,” he said, tipping the brim of his cowboy hat. “I'm sure your stay at the Lazy Layabout will be quite restful and peaceful.

  And you're definitely going to love Last Chance.”

  He was certainly right about that. From a distance, Last Chance was as charming as a small prairie town in Colorado could get. The houses appeared to be sturdy and well-built, and the closer they got, the more the two women liked what they saw.

  As they drew closer, Sally and Lisa could see the beginning of Main Street, which appeared to be just as charming.

  The town hall loomed in the distance, and there was another building next to it that looked like it could be the Lazy Layabout. Compared to some of the other prairie towns, Last Chance seemed to be idyllic beyond their wildest dreams.

  Quiet, however, it was not.

  When they reached the edge of town, Sally and Lisa both heard a ruckus they couldn't quite identify. It was definitely loud, but something about it seemed decidedly out of place given their expectations.

  “My goodness,” Sally said. “What in blue blazes is that?”

  “I'm not sure,” Lisa said, turning to Conrad Truman. “Do you know anything about this.”

  “Not a bit,” he replied, shaking his head. “Most trips I make to Last Chance, you could hear a pin drop when I get there. It's kind of known for being a peaceful place, which is why most folks love it, given all the other calamities people generally run into out here.”

  The horses definitely didn't love the noise, though. They reacted rather theatrically to whatever it was, prancing wildly in a way Conrad had never seen before.

  “Well, this is different,” he muttered, manipulating the reins to keep them under control. “I've never seen them do this before.”

  Sally grinned. “If I didn't know better,” she said, “I'd think they were dancing.”

  “Or at least trying to,” Lisa added. “They do seem intent on putting on a show.”

  “It is entertaining,” Conrad admitted. “As long as they don't upend us.”

  He tried to use the reins to reel them in, but the horses were having none of it. They seemed to be enjoying the noise, and their pace had picked up considerably. It was hard to avoid the conclusion that they were quite eager to get to the center of Last Chance.

  “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Sally asked, turning to Lisa as they reached the far end of Main Street.

  “I think so,” she nodded. “It is rather unmistakeable now that we're here.”

  Sally grinned. “Good gravy!” she exclaimed, shaking her head.

  “It's music!”

  Both women cocked their heads to figure out exactly what kind of music it was, and they reached the same conclusion at the same instant: the music was all too familiar. Not to mention quite loud.

  “I ain't never heard nothin' like this,” Conrad observed, still busy trying to control the horses, who were prancing to beat the band.

  “We have,” Sally and Lisa said, nearly at once.

  “All right then,” Conrad said as he finally settled the beasts down. “You're gonna have to tell me what it is.”

  “It's a march of sorts,” Sally said, looking to Lisa for confirmation. Lisa nodded several times, rolling her eyes as she did.

  “I haven't heard this one before,” Lisa said. “Have you?”

  “No,” Sally replied. “It sounds different from the usual fare, though.”

  “Yes,” Lisa agreed. “Not sure if I like it or not.”

  Conrad looked over at both of them as they turned the bend and headed into the busy section of Main Street, such as it was.

  “OK, you ladies are gonna have to fill me in,” he said while trying to maintain control of the horses. “Cuz I have no idea what in tarnation is going on here.”

  Sally looked over at him and shook her head. “Well, it's a brass band,” she began. “And quite a noisy one at that.”

  “They aren't bad, though,” Lisa added. “But they are playing something we've never heard before.”

  “And what might that be?” Conrad asked, shaking his head in confusion.

  “Some kind of march,” Sally said, and Lisa nodded, grinning and rolling her eyes. “And one that seems to be stirring up the crowd as well.”

  “We definitely seem to have wandered into the middle of an election,” Lisa confirmed.

  The closer they got to the source of the noise, the more they realized they were right.

  A platform had been set up outside of town hall, and it was divided in half, with each candidate getting to use one side. One, of course, was for the mayor, Owen Standard. His many followers were clustered in front of his section of the platform.

  The other half was for the newcomer, Carson Jackson. Carson's side was more sparsely populated, but his supporters definitely made up for what they lacked in numbers with their enthusiasm and exuberance.

  It only took one glance for Sally and Lisa to see that both camps were both feisty and rowdy, although things seemed to be proceeding peacefully for the moment.

  The scene around the platform was as festive and colorful as it was celebratory. The platform was festooned with red, white and blue bunting on both sides, and there were banners everywhere.

  It was a classic scene from the annals of American politics, and the two women shook their heads and grinned at one another when they realized how familiar it was.

  The banners basically told the story of the election. On one side, the ones devoted to Owen Standard had slogans such as “The Standard Bearer in Last Chance!” and “Maintain the Standard of Excellence on the Frontier!”

  Meanwhile, on the other side, Carson Jackson's banners told the tale of an upstart seeking to upset the apple cart: “Jackson: the New Pioneer!,” and another that read “Carson Cares!”

  The most brazen banner of all read, “Carson Jackson: the New Standard Bearer in Last Chance!,” a bold declaration that couldn't have gone over well with the mayor's followers.

  Still, the whole situation looked to be orderly enough, and the denizens of Last Chance seemed to be enjoying a rare example of the political process. The town had been so small and stable that there hadn't been an election for years, and the novelty of the experience appeared to be bringing out the best in them.

  The sugar coating was being applied by the brass band, which was churning out an array of lively tunes. Sally and Lisa waded into the crowd without hesitation, having seen similar endeavors back in Maryland.

  “Well,” Sally said. “Haven't we been here before.”

  “Indeed,” Lisa replied. “Brings back some interesting memories, no?”

  “Without a doubt,” Sally agreed. “My father used to hire brass bands like this all the time.”

  “Every four years, right?” Lisa said, stretching her eyes. “Although I have to say, I don't recollect hearing this particular tune, and I think I've just about heard them all.”

  “Me too,” Sally frowned. “And I don't recognize it either.”

  They found an open spot where they could take in the proceedings, listening to the music as the band rolled from song to song.

  “Excuse me,” Sally said to the man standing next to her. “Have they announced who these songs are by? My friend and I were just saying that we haven't heard them before.”

  “That's because they're new!” the man exclaimed, tapping his feet
in rhythm to the stirring march. “Some new composer writing music no one's ever heard of before.”

  “Huh,” Lisa said. “Do you happen to know his name?”

  “Fella by the name of John Philip Sousa,” he replied. “First time his songs have ever been heard this far west, he's somewhat knew to the music writing business from what I've heard.”

  “Well, it certainly is stirring,” Sally commented. “We were hoping to find out a bit more about the election? We're fairly new in town. In fact, we just got off the afternoon stage.”

  “Is that so?” he asked, eyes widening. “Well, let me be the first to welcome you to Last Chance! No place on earth like it—especially with all this going on.”

  “It is different, that's for sure,” Lisa said as the band blasted through the final coda of the march. “I don't think we quite realized what we were getting ourselves into.”

  He nodded, listening enthusiastically to the music and waiting until he was sure the band was done before speaking again.

  “It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance, by the way,” he said, extending a hand in greeting. “I'm Willard Jameson.”

  “Mr. Jameson,” Sally said, nodding as she took his hand. “I'm Sally Galvin, and this is my friend, Lisa Freeman.”

  “It's an honor,” Willard replied, nodding. “So what brings you ladies to our fair metropolis?”

  Sally thought about her foray into the world of mail order brides, blushing so furiously that Lisa had to jump in and pick up the slack for her.

  “We're here to meet Mr. Jackson,” she said, clearly finding Willard quite intriguing.

  “Oh!” he said. “I can introduce you if you'd like. I'm the town clerk.”

  “Really?” Lisa said. “That sounds quite interesting.”

  Willard blushed himself a bit. “Well, I'm afraid most people don't think so,” he said with some modesty. “All those numbers and details.”

  “I happen to love those,” Lisa said, and his blush deepened.

  Sally watched the exchange with great curiosity, wondering if Lisa had finally found a gentleman of her own. Hope springs eternal, she thought to herself, musing that this trip might turn out to be the best thing in the world for her best friend.