The Peashooter Society's Plan Read online

  “No, Ma’am. We here to talk to you about your advertisement you sent to the Kansas City Star. Your son, the depot agent, told us where to find you.”

  The woman’s face paled, and her eyes widened at his words. Then she looked back into the house and quietly closed the door behind her back.

  “Men interested were supposed to write to me, not show up in town,” Mrs. Reagan regained her composure.

  “But your advertisement said you wanted six men, and we wanted to be the first ones here,” Tobin said behind Barton.

  “Why?” Mrs. Reagan asked before Barton could think what to say.

  “We’ve been together since we got on the orphan train in New York, Ma’am. The idea of living together in a wonderful community…” Tobin trailed off and lowered his head.

  Barton wanted to smack his head with his hand in frustration at Tobin’s confession, but Mrs. Reagan’s smile told him they now had a foot in her door, so to speak.

  The door opened behind Mrs. Reagan, causing her to look at the porch ceiling for a moment. In frustration or in prayer?

  “Men, this is my husband, Pastor Patrick Reagan. Patrick, could you please find Mack and Kiowa, and ask them to come over to the parsonage? Their help for a project has arrived.”

  “Kaitlyn, what project?” the pastor asked while raising his eyebrows at his wife.

  The woman put her hands on her hips and answered. “A Peashooter Society project, so please stop by and ask Lorna, Millie, Helen, and Darcie to join us too.”

  “Oh, Deuteronomy,” Barton thought the pastor muttered as he stepped off the porch and walked toward downtown.

  Wasn’t that what his son, Angus, had muttered to?

  Mrs. Reagan turned back to them and her look and crossed arms meant business.

  “Now, I raised six boys myself, a mixture of brothers and adopted, and I know you didn’t read that advertisement in the newspaper and travel here only a week after I mailed my letter. Tell me the truth now, or you leave now.”

  Barton turned to look at his brothers and friends since it had to be a group decision. Some nods were quicker than others, but they all agreed to confess.

  “Ma’am, last week we were just released from our service at Fort Riley and heading home by train to visit our families near Topeka. The train was east of Junction City when it was robbed, and all the passengers had to get off. One car was blasted open, and mail blew to the wind. We picked up the letters thinking we might get an award for their return.”

  “Oh dear. I heard about that robbery! Was anyone hurt?”

  “Not seriously, ma’am. But we found your letter, almost torn in two, and I confess I read it to the group.”

  “Did you hand my letter over to the postal service with the rest of the letters?”

  “No, Ma’am. I have your letter in my bag.”

  “And you thought my advertisement was a way for the six of you to stay together,” she guessed.

  “Yes, Ma’am. We’ve been home to visit family, got letters of recommendation, and traveled here as soon as we could.”

  Mrs. Reagan took a moment to study each of them, then stepped back to open the front door.

  “Please come into the dining room for coffee while we wait for the others to arrive.”

  Every one of them took off their hat and nodded their thanks as they walked into the woman’s home and then turned to wait for her to lead the way. Their manners had to be impeccable to win over the women in the group, and the pastor, who Barton could tell didn’t know about the ladies’ plan.

  “May I help you carry anything, Mrs. Reagan?” Wesley asked as the rest sat down around the long, scarred dining room table.

  Her smile lit up the room. “Yes, you may. Please follow me.”

  They let out a collected breath. Gordon looked at him and asked. “What do you think?” And Barton knew what he meant.

  Can we pull this off without something, or someone, ruining it?

  “I hope so. I like the town,” Tobin said as he straightened in his chair, always trying to look taller.

  *

  Barton watched and listened as four middle-aged women walked into the house, chatting among themselves. He braced himself for what the women would say once they saw the six of them around the Reagan's dining room table.

  He watched as each woman scanned their faces, probably making snap decisions at that moment. Would they declare them all candidates, or pick and choose who they wanted? Barton hated to worry about Tobin but being short and heavy, well, even if he didn't get a bride, surely there was employment for him, even if he had to live with one of them.

  "Hello, Ladies, may I pull your chairs out for you?" But then Tobin had the best manners Barton thought, as they all stood up to greet the women.

  Wesley returned to the dining room carrying a large coffee pot, and a flat wooden tray of cups. Mrs. Reagan followed with a large glass platter of a variety of cookies and bread. For being caught unawares of strangers on her doorstep, she had a pantry of baked goods apparently. But then people stopping by might be normal for the parsonage.

  "Hey, Ma!" a large, bulky man filled the doorway as he strolled into the dining room. He was very tall, like Peter, but over two times as heavy in weight.

  Barton heard another male voice with Pastor Reagan and assumed the last to enter was their benefactor.

  He was surprised when a well-dressed native man, his long hair in a braid flipped over his left shoulder, walked in last.

  “Gentlemen, this is my son, Mack, and Kiowa Jones.

  "If everyone will sit down, Pastor will bless our refreshment, and then I’ll explain why we’re meeting. After that, we'll go around the table to tell a little about ourselves," Mrs. Reagan told the group.

  Barton immediately bowed his head, hoping—no, praying—that they'd get through this meeting of sorts without anything going wrong. The locals said "amen" after the brief thanks and started talking and passing filled coffee cups at the same time.

  Once Mrs. Reagan sat down at the end of the table and had a sip of coffee, she cleared her throat.

  "Patrick. Yes, the Peashooter Society, as the younger people in town call us, has a plan to help several members of the community. Because there is a large number of single young women in town and several businesses which need management, we talked to Kiowa and Mack about working together with us.”

  “Ladies, our advertisement was answered quicker than I thought, but I feel these young men might be exactly who we need for our project.”

  Barton’s eyes flashed at the rest of his group, hoping this might work out for them after all.

  “Ladies, please go around the table and introduce yourselves first."

  “I'm Mrs. Millie Wilerson, the marshal's wife. I came as a mail-order bride in '73."

  “Millie is well known for her baking and her flower garden," Mrs. Reagan added.

  “I'm Darcie Shepard, Millie's sister. Our family has Shepard and Sons Saddlery on the east end of Main Street. Our children Gabe, Tate, and Amelia work in the shop. Our daughter, Mary, is married to Kiowa Jones," the woman added as she pointed to the last man who entered the room.

  Barton wondered if the young woman he ran into on the boardwalk was Mrs. Shepard’s daughter. They had similar hair color and features.

  "Lorna Elison, lawyer's wife. Mail-order bride."

  "Helen Paulson. Our family owns and runs the Paulson Hotel. I also came to town for a marriage, although it turned out different than I’d planned," Mrs. Paulson smiled broadly as she patted Lorna's hand. "And as the mother of eight girls, two of marriage age, I'm always looking for good men."

  The older group around the table chuckled at the story only they knew about.

  "Mrs. Cate Connely is also involved in this project, although she lives out by the Cross C Ranch with her husband, Isaac," Mrs. Reagan introduced the missing woman of the Peashooter Society. "Three of their granddaughters have moved into town to operate the dress shop, formally owned by Mary Jones."

  "I assume you and Cate are plotting Maggie's, Molly's, and Maisie's upcoming weddings?" Pastor Reagan asked his wife.

  "And my Amelia. She needs a life besides working with her father and brothers all the time," Mrs. Shepard added with a wave of her hand.

  "Avalee and Nadine need husbands too," Mrs. Paulson said.

  “Thank you, ladies. I was a mail-order bride too, and so we thought, why not replicate our scenario—in reverse this time, and order men for the women in town.”

  “Mack, how did they get you involved in this?” Pastor Reagan asked his son.

  Mack shrugged his shoulders. “It made sense, Da.”

  “Gentlemen, would you please introduce yourselves and say why you’d like to be involved in this project, knowing this is a lifelong commitment,” Mrs. Reagan continued to conduct her, well, meeting.

  Barton opened his mouth to speak, but Tobin beat him to it by standing up.

  “I’m Tobin Billings, and I’m honored to be here today, not only to meet all of you but because my loyal friends have never left me behind. We’ve been together since we left the orphanage in New York City at a very young age. And I will do any job you ask me to be a part of this community. Thank you,” Tobin said in a rush, and then sat down.

  Barton stood up next, noticing the nods that went between the pastor and his wife.

  “Barton Miller, and as Tobin said, we’ve been together for ten years. First on the train, then in a community in Shawnee County, near Topeka. We enlisted together at Fort Riley and have recently been mustered out. When we read about Mrs. Reagan’s opportunity, we decided we’d like to be considered, as a group, to stay together,” Barton said before sitting down.

  “I’m Gordon, the middle Miller brother. I believe we have strengths and
weaknesses as anyone, but as a group, we’re loyal and help each other out. We’d like to be part of this community as we start our adult lives.”

  “Squires Miller, the youngest of the brothers, who's been fortunate to have these good five fellows take care of me.”

  “Peter Gehring. I don’t remember anything of my former life, except that Barton protected me on the train and insisted I stayed with him when we got off. I want to be with my family.”

  “And I’m Wesley Preston, another tagalong who has benefited from this group’s friendship. Not all of us ended up in good homes after we were adopted, but Barton made sure we kept in touch however and whenever we could through the years. The idea of employment, housing, and the chance for a wife interested all of us as a way to stay together.”

  Barton sighed with relief when their introductions were made. Now they’d see how the community viewed them.

  “Barton, how old were all of you when you left the orphanage?” Pastor asked.

  “I was ten. The youngest of our group, Squires, and Peter was four. The rest are aged in between.”

  Mrs. Reagan looked at her friends again, and then at Kiowa Jones.

  “Your vote?”

  Barton knew what she meant. Did the women and the benefactor agree to them being the men picked for this project?

  One by one the women nodded in approval.

  “Kiowa? You have the final voice since you’re financing this project. They do have letters of recommendations from the fort chaplain and an officer who worked with all of them,” Mrs. Reagan asked the man holding their future in his hands.

  “I like that they have shown respect to all of us,” the man said. “If there had been any doubt, I would have objected.”

  Barton watched as Kiowa studied each of them, looking for any signs of distrust or weakness.

  “Kaitlyn, I believe you want these men to be your next set of adopted ‘boys.’ If you feel this is right, then I agree,” Kiowa replied.

  Barton released his pent-up breath and glanced around the table. Each person in his group had a different expression on their face, from pensive to relieved, to ecstatic in Tobin’s case.

  “All right. I’m sure Cate will agree to our plan too. Kiowa, would you please outline what is being offered and the work entailed?” Mrs. Reagan asked of their benefactor.

  This moment could define their lives forever. Barton wondered again if he’d done the right thing by reading and sharing Mrs. Reagan’s letter. But would the six young women even agree to the Peashooter Society’s scheme?

  Chapter 2

  “Who are they?” Amelia Shepard asked the Brenner sisters as soon as she slipped inside the dress shop. Maggie, Molly, and Maisie were staring out the front plate window at the men she'd just bumped into across the street.

  "I don't know, Maggie,” the oldest sister answered. "Why would six young men depart the train, look around town, then walk west? Did they say anything to you?"

  "The first man apologized when we ran into each other, and the second man walking beside him asked if I was all right," Amelia replied while patting her chest. Why was her heart racing after the encounter?

  "The first three men look like they could be brothers," Maisie the youngest sister stated. "Did they look like that to you too, Amelia?"

  "I was so surprised I didn't look close. But yes, the first two men had matching brown hair and eyes the color of chestnut brown shoe dye," Amelia answered.

  "You didn't look close? But you could tell the exact color of the men's eyes?" Molly, the middle sister, snickered.

  One could never tell about siblings. Maggie and Maisie with light brown hair and bright blue eyes were true sisters, but Molly, the middle one, with ash blonde hair and hazel eyes, was adopted from a different family when Sarah and Marcus Brenner took in eight children at the same time.

  Did you get a look at the tall man with jet black hair?" Maggie asked. "I like the looks of him."

  "No, I was staring at the man who ran into me. He caught my arms, so I didn't fall, and stared into my face a moment."

  And Amelia really liked the man's masculine face and those chestnut brown eyes.

  "Step back outside and see where they've gone," Maggie urged Amelia.

  Amelia slipped back out the door, staying close to the buildings until she peeked past the side wall of the pharmacy. The men were on the parsonage porch talking to Kaitlyn Reagan. The short, red-haired fellow was speaking at the moment. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but Kaitlyn's stance changed when Pastor came out the door, probably wondering who his wife was talking to.

  Amelia stayed in place until the men went inside with Kaitlyn, and the Pastor started walking toward her. She quickly made her way back to the dress shop just as Avalee Paulson left Doctor Pansy's office three doors down. Amelia motioned for Avalee to hurry and join her in the dress shop.

  Both of the women slid in and shut the door as Pastor Reagan stepped on the boardwalk.

  "Did you see those six fellows leave the depot?" Avalee asked, as soon as she caught her breath. She passed a hand over her curly copper hair because tendrils had sprung free as she rushed down the boardwalk. She hadn't bothered putting on her hat or shawl.

  "Yes, we've been watching them," Maggie confirmed. "Amelia got a close look at two of them because she ran into them coming out of the mercantile."

  "Did you see where they went?" Avalee asked.

  "To the parsonage, and then Pastor walked this way as the men went inside with Kaitlyn," Amelia told them.

  "Could he be getting someone to meet with them?" Avalee continued. Being Doctor Pansy Reagan's assistant, she was used to asking a lot of questions to find the source of a person's medical problem.

  The five of them chatted while waiting to see who might be going back to the parsonage with Pastor. After ten minutes it was clear who was being summoned to the parsonage.

  "Look! Lorna, Millie, and my mother just walked across the street to your pa's shop, Amelia," Avalee exclaimed, and then they all turned to look at each other.

  "Huh. I bet the Peashooter Society is up to something," Amelia guessed.

  "Grandma Cate must not know about the meeting, or she would have already driven to town," Maggie added.

  "Now Pastor is walking back with his son, Mack, and Kiowa Jones. That could mean that there's a new construction project for the town. Mack always builds Kiowa's buildings," Amelia surmised.

  "But why did the six men go into the parsonage? They might be hired to help with Mack's building business, but how are the Peashooter's involved?"

  “Well, we’ll never know standing here,” Avalee stated. “While Mama’s at the parsonage, I’m going back to the hotel to talk to my sister. Maybe Nadine can overhear something about what’s going on when Mama tells Papa about it. She’s good at cleaning and eavesdropping at the same time.”

  “Do you think Mack has told his wife anything about those men?” Maggie asked Avalee.

  “I’ll ask Doctor Pansy, but they’re good at keeping secrets, even from each other,” Avalee answered, then tapped her finger against her lips. “I’m supposed to be wrapping bandages while Doctor Pansy went home for a bit. I best run home to the hotel for a minute and then get back to work.”

  Avalee still lived in the hotel’s top floor apartment with her parents and five younger sisters. Her older sisters, Iva Mae, and Maridell, had already married and had homes of their own.

  “Let us know if you hear anything, and we’ll do likewise,” Amelia called as the bell above the dress shop door tinkled at Avalee’s departure.

  “I better get back to work too. I just walked down to the mercantile because I was out of heavy thread.”

  “Let us know if your Mama lets something slip about the meeting when she gets home, Amelia,” Maggie asked as Amelia left the dress shop.

  Amelia wiped a hand down her dirty apron. Why hadn’t she taken it off, so she’d have looked halfway presentable walking down the street? Because she didn’t think she’d plow into a handsome stranger on the boardwalk in their little frontier town.

  What happens next?

  Click now to read Amelia Changes her Fellow.

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