The Christmas Calamity Read online

  by

  SHANNA HATFIELD

  The Christmas Calamity

  Copyright © 2014 by Shanna Hatfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.

  Shanna Hatfield

  [email protected]

  shannahatfield.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  To those wonderful individuals

  who look for the best in others,

  and help bring it to light…

  Chapter One

  Eastern Oregon, 1896

  “You idiotic imbecile! How could you do this to me?”

  The echo of a woman’s voice caught Arlan Guthry by surprise as he rode his horse up a rolling hill.

  Hesitant to interrupt a domestic squabble, he reined Orion to a stop before he reached the top. He rubbed a soothing hand along the horse’s neck, listening for more words carried on the breeze.

  Agitated and clearly angry, the female’s voice reached his ears again.

  “After all we’ve been through together, I can’t believe you’d leave me like this. It’s a completely unacceptable calamity!”

  A sound resembling a firm slap sent Arlan spurring Orion up the remainder of the hill and over the top.

  Although he made it a rule to mind his own business, the thought of someone beating a woman made him act in haste.

  Yanking Orion to a stop in the middle of the road, he stared at the spectacle before him, wondering if he’d somehow dropped through a rabbit hole to a foreign land.

  A crimson-colored enclosed wagon unlike anything he’d previously observed blocked the road. Golden swirls and cream trim along the sides of the conveyance contrasted sharply against the bright blue of the early autumn sky.

  The front of the wagon featured an overhang and protective sides with scrolled edges that shielded the driver’s seat from the weather. Long, carved windows in each side added to the fanciful appearance and enabled the driver to look out to the left or right.

  Garish lettering glittered in the sun and caught his attention.

  Prestidigitateur

  Alex the Amazing’s Magical Show

  Phantasmagorical Wonders

  of Mystery, Intrigue, and Miracles

  Cautiously riding closer, he dismounted and stared at the broken wheel and axle causing the wagon to sit at an odd angle.

  As he bent to inspect the damage, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen walked around the end of the wagon with an abundance of black hair flowing in waves around her shoulders and down her back.

  An elaborately embellished waistcoat and topcoat in a rich shade of peacock blue topped the black trousers she wore tucked inside knee-high leather boots.

  Unsettled by the sight of a woman in pants, Arlan didn’t know if he should be more disturbed by the feather-bedecked top hat in her left hand or the large mallet in her right.

  Abruptly standing, he swiped the hat from his head and gave her a nod before looking behind her, expecting an enraged husband to appear.

  A subtle inspection of her face didn’t reveal a handprint as he expected from the resounding smack he’d heard on the other side of the hill. Instead, it left him entranced with her intriguing hazel eyes, rimmed by thick, black eyelashes.

  “Who are you?” The woman stared at him, glancing around to see if he was alone.

  “Arlan Guthry. May I offer my assistance?”

  “Unless you’ve got a spare wheel or axle hidden in your pocket, probably not, Mr. Guthry.”

  Arlan smiled. “That I do not, madam, but I would be happy to escort you into town where arrangements can be made to transport your wagon to the blacksmith’s shop.”

  “I can’t leave my wagon, traitorous thing that it is. You’d think after traveling all the way from New York, Gramps could have waited until we reached a town before leaving me stranded.” The woman whacked the mallet against the busted wheel, causing a broken spoke to splinter.

  Arlan identified the thud with the smack he’d heard earlier, relieved she hadn’t received such a resounding blow.

  “Here, now, madam, there’s no help to be had in beating it to death.” Arlan started to take the mallet from her hand and received a cool glare, clearly expressing her lack of appreciation at his interference. He took a step back, looking around again. “Did your grandfather leave you here alone? Is he the one you yelled at earlier?”

  “No.” The woman shook her head. A lock of her hair fell across her face and she absently blew it away, drawing Arlan’s attention to her red lips.

  It was a good thing he courted Edna Bevins, the town’s schoolteacher. Otherwise, he’d be utterly mesmerized with the unusual female standing before him.

  As it was, he wondered if her red lips were natural or if she used paint like the fallen girls that worked at the Red Lantern Saloon in town. The establishment wasn’t one he frequented, but he occasionally interacted with the employees in his work at the town’s only bank.

  “To whom were you speaking in such a harsh tone?”

  The woman narrowed her eyes his direction then released a beleaguered sigh. “Not that it is any of your business, Mr. Guthry, but I was yelling at the wagon. I call it Gramps.”

  Perhaps the woman wasn’t so much fascinating as she was crazy. Swiftly concluding he’d best leave her alone, Arlan backed toward his horse.

  Before he could leave, his own scrupulous sense of right and wrong left him convicted. He knew the woman needed his assistance, whether she admitted it or not.

  Resigned to helping her, he walked Orion to the back of the wagon and looped the reins around a handle near the door then returned to where she stared at the damaged axle.

  Once again bending down by the wheel, he inspected it. No wonder it broke. Not a single spoke matched and it appeared wire and wishes had held the wheel together for far too long.

  “I say, madam, this wheel looks as though you’ve used chair spindles for some of the spokes.” Arlan ran his hand over a spoke that snapped in two, most likely when the axle broke.

  “I do what’s necessary to keep my wagon on the road.”

  The woman moved next to him to study the wheel.

  A fragrance that made him think of something exotic and forbidden floated around him. The clothes she wore did nothing to hide her curves, especially the long legs highlighted by her pants and boots.

  He rose and stepped away, putting distance between the two of them.

  She looked up at him and sighed again. “If you’re going to continue calling me madam, you might as well know my name. I’m Alexandra Janowski, better known as Alex the Amazing.”

  The woman swept her hat in front of her with a flourish then bent at the waist into a gallant bow. Her hair fell over her face, nearly brushing the ground. When she stood and tossed it back over her head, Arlan had to swallow twice before he regained his voice. Raptly, he watched her settle the silk top hat on her head.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Janowski.”

  “Miss Janowski, and I prefer to be called Alex.”

  “Yes, ma’am
.” Arlan glanced again at the lettering on the wagon. “And might I assume you are the prestidigitator providing phantasmagorical wonders of magic?”

  Alex laughed and gave Arlan a coquettish smile. “The one and only.” She set the mallet in a toolbox attached to the wagon bed and pulled a gold coin from her pocket.

  Fascinated, Arlan watched as she rolled it over and under her fingers then suddenly made it disappear.

  She took a step closer to him and reached behind his ear. The warmth of her fingers brushing his skin made goose flesh rise on his arms. When she stepped back, she held the coin up to him.

  “You never know where this coin may turn up.” She winked at him and pocketed the coin in her waistcoat.

  Arlan wondered when his shirt collar had grown so tight and fought the urge to undo a button or two.

  “How did you make the coin disappear?” he asked, curious as to how the magic trick worked.

  “I give away no secrets, sir. Even so, I’ll personally invite you to my next show, once I get Gramps repaired, that is. What is the closest town?”

  “Hardman. It’s where I live, just a few miles back that way.” Arlan pointed in the direction he’d traveled before happening upon her wagon.

  Alex studied the tall man standing in front of her. Handsome with dark hair and warm blue eyes, he appeared limber in his movements. Although he wasn’t what she would refer to as broad shouldered, he certainly looked capable of handling physical exertion with ease. She liked the sound of his voice, despite his formal mode of speaking.

  Mr. Arlan Guthry looked like a man who needed his neatly combed hair mussed and his perfectly starched shirt rumpled.

  Under less trying circumstances, she would have enjoyed the opportunity to do both with some of her magic tricks. Nevertheless, the broken wheel and a need to get back on the road left no time for distractions, no matter how handsome they might be. She had a handful of men eager to inflict harm upon her and no idea if they’d found her trail.

  Pride caved beneath necessity and she offered Arlan her best smile.

  “I can’t leave my wagon or my horse, but would you be so kind as to ride into town and send back some help?”

  Arlan didn’t like leaving a woman stranded alone on the road, even if they were close to Hardman.

  “I think it best you come along with me. You can bring your horse with you.” Arlan took Orion’s reins in his hand and walked back around to the front of the wagon. “Would you like to ride with me or on your own mount?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were hard of hearing.” Alex frowned at the man. Frustrated, she raised the volume of her voice and looked him full in the face. “I won’t leave Gramps. Please send back some help.”

  “I assure you, Miss Janowski, there is nothing faulty with my hearing, so please desist from screeching.” Arlan mounted Orion, annoyed yet invigorated. “If you refuse to be reasonable, I’ll send someone back as quickly as possible.”

  “Thank you.” Alex walked to Bill’s head and gave the horse a good scratch. “I appreciate it.”

  “Are you absolutely certain you won’t come with me?” Arlan received another glare before she turned her back to him.

  He watched as she disappeared around the end of the wagon. He hoped she’d wait inside until he returned with help.

  “Come on, Orion.” Arlan urged the horse down the hill they’d recently rode up and soon reined to a stop in front of Hardman’s blacksmith shop and livery.

  “Douglas?” Arlan called as he stepped inside the dim interior.

  “I’m back at the forge,” a deep voice responded. Arlan followed it around back to the where the brawny blacksmith beat a piece of glowing metal with a hammer.

  “Arlan, my friend, what can I do for you today?” The smithy finished hammering the metal then wiped his hands on the leather apron he wore.

  “There’s a wagon with a broken wheel and axle a few miles outside town. Can you bring it in to fix?”

  “Yep, but I’ll need help. Are you volunteering?” Douglas McIntosh looked to Arlan with a knowing grin.

  “Sure. I’ll go along, but I better change first.” Arlan walked with Douglas to the front of the business where Orion waited. The smithy rubbed a big, work-scarred hand over the horse’s neck.

  “Meet me back here when you’re ready. You might see if you can find a few more hands to help.” Douglas returned inside, whistling as he gathered a few tools.

  After he left Orion at the blacksmith’s, Arlan walked over two blocks and down the street to his house.

  Quickly discarding his expensive suit, he changed into a pair of denim pants and a work shirt. He tugged on a pair of worn boots, grabbed an old hat and pair of gloves then rushed out the door.

  Hurriedly jogging toward the church to see if Pastor Dodd could help, he ran into his employer and friend, Luke Granger.

  “Hey, Arlan, where are you headed?” Luke made note of Arlan’s casual dress. His assistant normally wore tailored suits, brocaded waistcoats, and spotless shirts, maintaining a formal appearance. If the young man rushed through town dressed casually, it meant either he helped someone or something was wrong.

  “There’s a woman with a broken-down wagon just over the ridge on the way to Heppner. Douglas will bring the wagon back to town, but he might need a few strong backs to help. Can you go?”

  Luke nodded in agreement. “Let me run home, tell Filly where I’m headed, and saddle my horse. I’ll meet you at Douglas’ place in a few minutes.” Luke started to walk away then stopped, turning back to Arlan. “Tell Chauncy I’ll bring his horse, too.”

  Arlan waved at Luke then proceeded to the parsonage next door to the Christian Church. After tapping lightly, he didn’t have long to wait before the door swung open and the pastor greeted him.

  “Arlan, what can I do for you today?” Chauncy Dodd motioned for him to step inside, but he declined with a shake of his head.

  “I found a woman with a disabled wagon outside town and Douglas needs assistance to bring it in to repair. Can you spare a little time?”

  Chauncy nodded his head. “Certainly.”

  Arlan listened as the pastor called down the hall to his wife, letting Abby know he’d be gone for a while. He grinned when he heard their little girl, Erin, beg to go along and Chauncy gently refuse.

  Chauncy grabbed his hat and a pair of gloves then hurried down the front steps of the parsonage, following Arlan back to the blacksmith’s shop.

  “Luke bringing the horses?” he asked as they hastened down the street. The pastor and Luke had been best friends since boyhood. The banker kept both Chauncy’s buggy and horses at his place.

  Arlan nodded in affirmation.

  As they neared the smithy, Arlan noticed Douglas waited out front in a big wagon harnessed to a sturdy team of horses.

  Arlan untied Orion’s reins from the hitching post as Luke approached riding his horse and leading Chauncy’s.

  The men discussed the unseasonably warm weather, the upcoming harvest festival, and Arlan’s interest in the schoolteacher as they rode out of town

  “Are you taking Miss Edna to the harvest dance?” Luke teased, waggling his blond eyebrows at Arlan.

  “I haven’t asked her yet. The dance isn’t until next month.” The number of marriageable young women in town dwindled significantly in the last few years and Arlan found himself with few suitable options.

  When Edna Bevins moved to town the previous year to teach, he studied her for several months before he decided she might make a good wife. The woman seemed somewhat absorbed with herself, but she appeared to be biddable and possessed good manners.

  Uncomfortable discussing his interest in Miss Bevins, Arlan searched for a topic to distract his friends. “Have you ever seen a magician’s wagon?”

  “Once, when I was in New York,” Luke said, looking curiously at Arlan, wondering what inspired him to ask. “There was a man on a street corner with a colorful wagon doing all sorts of tricks. He called hi
mself a prestidigitator.”

  “What’s that?” Douglas asked, glancing at Luke.

  “A fancy word for a magician.” Luke grinned. “Or, in this man’s case, a swindler. He kept the crowd entertained while his accomplice picked the pockets of those watching the show.”

  “That’s terrible.” Arlan wondered if Alex was a swindling, scheming magician. Since she was alone, he assumed she couldn’t get into that kind of trouble.

  “What made you ask about a magician’s wagon?” Luke asked as they neared the crest of the hill.

  Arlan grinned as they topped the rise and pointed to Alex’s wagon. “That.”

  Chauncy chuckled while Douglas whistled.

  “That is quite a wagon.” Luke smirked as they rode toward the brightly painted conveyance.

  Alex hurried around the side and planted her hands on her hips, watching the men approach. She’d been afraid to hope Mr. Guthry would stay true to his word and send back help. Surprise widened her eyes as she noticed him with the three other men. He looked even taller and stronger in his plain work clothes than he had in his tailored suit.

  “Gentleman, may I offer my sincere thanks for your assistance.” Alex swept off her hat and bowed before settling the silk creation at a jaunty angle on her head.

  “Miss Janowski.” Arlan tipped his hat to her then made introductions.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Janowski.” Douglas openly stared at her while Luke and Chauncy appeared more interested in the wagon than the tall woman wearing trousers.

  “Can you get my poor wagon to town and repair it?” Alex waved her hand in an elaborate gesture toward the broken wheel and axle.

  Douglas got down on his knees and assessed the damage. “Well, miss, this isn’t going to be a simple thing to fix, but let’s see if we can get it back to my shop.”

  Alex put her shoulder to the wagon along with the men as they worked a makeshift wheel into place and temporarily fastened the axle together.

  “That should hold it until we get to town. You go on ahead, Miss Janowski, and if it breaks, we’ll be right behind you.” Douglas climbed back on his wagon and guided his team to turn around in the sagebrush on the side of the road.