Mistletoe Mayhem: Clean Historical Western Cowboy Romance Novel (Dawson Chronicles Book 1) (22 page)

              Over the next two days, Renee came to the sheriff’s station, bringing treats from the bakery for Joe and for whomever was on duty, as well as for Len’s men guarding the mayor.  She flirted with Len’s men, giving them suggestive looks and saying outrageous things to them.  Both men were entranced by the young beauty who seemed to know her way around men.

              The day of the play, Renee leaned down close to Chuck, whispering, “I’d like to come back this evening and entertain you brave men who are keeping our county safe from unsupportive people.  Would you like that?”

              Chuck couldn’t keep his eyes from the generous amount of cleavage she showed off and he decided that he would indeed like that.  “I sure would,” he whispered back.

              “Good.  I’ll see you gentlemen later then,” she said, trailing a hand down his arm.

              Chuck smiled in a daze as she left.  Then in a low voice, he told Mort what she’d said and they smiled at each other in anticipation.

*****

              Switch, who was quite crafty himself, wasn’t unaware of his daughter’s penchant for men.  He knew that her lack of impulse control came from him.  He’d overheard a couple of men at the Watering Hole one night and he’d warned them away from his daughter.  The slightly crazed light in his eyes had sufficiently alarmed them so they’d steered clear of her.

              Since then, Switch had done much the same thing with any man he’d seen look at her or to whom she paid a lot of attention.  This was the reason that Brody hadn’t called on her.  Renee had no idea that Switch was protecting her in this manner.  Prior to the night of the play, he’d asked Raven to tail Renee to make sure she didn’t get into trouble at the sheriff’s office while she distracted Len’s men.

              Raven, who was protective of Renee anyway, had instantly agreed.  As she entered the office, carrying two bottles of scotch, she smiled at Mort and Chuck.

              “Hello, gentlemen,” she said, placing the bottles on the table before removing her wrap. 

              The two of them practically salivated at the sight of her daring mode of dress.  Shawn was also on duty and he couldn’t help noticing her gorgeous appearance.  She would make any man’s blood pressure rise, he thought. 

              Spying a deck of cards on the table, Renee sat down gracefully and picked it up.  “Can I interest you gents in a game of cards?”

              Both men agreed and a lively game of cards began.  The alcohol began disappearing quickly as Renee egged them on to drink it.  She told them that her parents would kill her if she went home smelling of liquor, but that she wanted them to have a good time. 

              Although they knew Len would disapprove of their drinking, Renee was so beguiling that they couldn’t resist her challenge.  As the hour of the play neared, Renee was relieved when the men finally showed signs of sleepiness from the laudanum-laced scotch.  Soon they were both passed out, their heads down on the table.

              Joey sneaked in the back door, which was situated near the cell area.  He grinned at his father as he quietly unlocked the door with the key supplied to him by Mitch’s wife, Sammi, who worked as a deputy once in a while.  No one had informed Mitch about the plan. 

              “You ready for your acting debut, Daddy?” Joey asked.

              “I’m nervous as heck, but ready for some fun.  I hate being cooped up in here,” Joe said.

              “Ok, well, get going.  Rick’s waiting for you with your disguise.”

              Joe hugged him.  “Ok.  See you soon.  Be careful.”  He approved of the way Joey looked in the jeans and shirt that was similar to the one he had on.  “You look good.”

              “Not now, Daddy.  Go!”

              Joe locked Joey in and then handed him the cell key.  He cracked the back door open and went outside.  Rick stepped up beside him, startling him.

              “Why does everyone have to do that to me,” Joe said.

              “Shut up, Joseph, and put this on,” Rick said.

              Joe put on the long trench coat and worn black hat he handed him.  “Ok, let’s get me to the show.”

              “Sounds good, Tex.”

*****

              The audience inside the Dawson Playhouse quieted as Switch took the stage in front of the heavy, red brocade curtain with gold-trimmed swags.  He was dressed in a fine, blue suit and his hair was neatly combed, giving him a suave appearance. 

              “Good evening, everyone.  Thank you for coming to the first annual production of
A Christmas Carol.
  This is a special night and I’m very proud to be a part of it.  Our actors have worked hard on their parts, dedicating their time and energy in order to bring some entertainment everybody, myself included.  I’m grateful to them for being willing to do so.  We have a couple of changes to the cast. 

              “As some of you know, our wonderful mayor has been locked up—”

              Loud boos and noises of disapproval interrupted him.  Switch quieted them down again.

              “I agree with you all.  However, in the spirit of Christmas, Len Washburn authorized a brief respite for Joe and he’ll once again be playing the part of the Spirit of Christmas Present as originally cast.”

              Cheering filled the playhouse and Switch clapped along with them.  As the noise wound down, Switch said, “Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I give you
A Christmas Carol
.”

              He ran stage left, disappearing from the spotlight and ducking behind the curtain. 

              Skip stood there in an identical suit.  The two men looked so similar that, from the back, the audience wouldn’t be able to tell them apart, especially because Skip would be sitting in dim light while he directed the actors.  In this way, Switch had an alibi if needed.

              Switch patted his shoulder.  “You’re on, son.  Make me proud.” 

              Skip grinned.  “You do the same for me.”

              Both of them went in separate directions as the play began.  The audience was enthralled by the sight of Scrooge’s office on the right side of the stage and a busy, London street on the left.  Carolers and children ran about in a cacophony of noise.  Inside Scrooge’s shop, the man himself worked away on a ledger as he mumbled to himself, complaining about the noise on the street.  There was a soft tittering in the audience as they recognized Randall.

              Chester, playing Bob Cratchit, tried to warm his hands around the single candle that sat upon the desk in his dismal little space while Scrooge watched him from his counting room.  Suddenly, Andy Henderson as Scrooge’s nephew, Fred, burst into the office, wishing his uncle a Merry Christmas and the audience reacted to his exuberant performance.

              While the play was off to a good start inside, another drama unfolded outside of the theater.  Two riders took off out of town at a fast clip, intent upon a risky mission.

*****

              “Ok, Renee, really get a good clinch on him,” Sawyer said, holding his camera at the ready.

              “I’m trying,” she said, sitting on Mort’s lap.  “I can’t keep his arm where it needs to be to make it look good.”

              Devon giggled and said, “Here.  Lean this way and I’ll put it up over your shoulder and hold it in place.”

              Between the two women, they were able to make it look like Renee and Mort were locked in a compromising embrace.  Sawyer angled the shot so that it hid Renee’s face but Mort’s showed plainly.  Once he had the pictures he wanted, Renee got off Mort’s lap and sat on the drugged Chuck’s lap.

              Mort began waking up so Devon held a rag with a little chloroform on it over his nose and mouth until he sank back into slumber. 

              “This is so fun,” Devon said.  “I never thought I’d do anything like this.”

              “Me, neither,” Sawyer said.  “Ok, honey, hold this guy’s arm the same way you did the other one’s.  Renee, pucker up.”

              Renee laughed as she pressed her lips to Chuck’s, turning her head in the right direction to hide her face.  Sawyer and Devon laughed, too, as he took the pictures.

              “That’s it, ladies,” Sawyer said.  “Let’s get to my shop.”

              They put the men’s heads back down on the table, leaving the two new bottles of liquor that they’d swapped for the drug-laced ones on the table.  One of the new bottles was empty and the other was only half full.  After they made sure that everything was set, the trio left, nodding to Shawn who stood outside, keeping watch.  He returned their grins and went back inside the sheriff’s office to keep watch on the hapless guards.

*****

              When Len answered the front door of his home, two army soldiers stood on his porch.  One of them had bushy eyebrows and in impressive mustache, while the other had a very thin, graying mustache and looked a little long in the tooth.

              One of them asked, “Are you Len Washburn, sir?”

              “Yeah,” Len said, startled.  “What’s this about?”

              “I’m Lieutenant Abernathy,” said the bushy browed soldier.  “This is Lt. Colonel Portmouth.  You currently have Joe Dwyer in the jail in Dawson, correct?”

              “That’s right.  So?”

              “We need you to come with us.  There’s been some sort of commotion there.  We received a telegram about it just a little while ago.  We’d best be underway quickly,” Portmouth said.

              Len frowned.  “What sort of commotion?”

              “I’m not sure.  The telegram wasn’t specific.  It just said to alert you and come at once.  It was from a ‘Mort,’ I believe,” Abernathy replied.

              Len’s eyes widened.  If Mort was calling for him, it had to be serious.  He threw his coat on and followed them out into the night.  He had his horse saddled in minutes and rode away with the soldiers.

*****

              Joe had no idea what all his friends and family were up to, but he trusted them.  Over the years, he’d participated in some crazy schemes with them and he knew that they were capable of coming up with some great plans.  He put all of that out of his mind as he had Lacey go over his part with him again while he waited to go on.  Beneath the too-big, green robe he wore, Joe’s feet were bare and his head was adorned with a curly, brown wig, on top of which sat a halo of holly.

              Lacey smiled at the look of concentration on Joe’s face as he paced back and forth, quietly saying his lines.  Dino, one of the stage hands, came to tell him that it was almost time for him to go on.

              “Break a leg, Mr. Dwyer,” Dino said.

              Joe smiled.  “Thanks, Dino.”

              Lacey kissed him for luck and then Joe took his place in the stage left wing.  The curtain closed after the Spirit of Christmas Past left Scrooge back home.  The stage workers began adorning the walls in Scrooge’s bedroom with greenery and holly while Jake tended the live fire they’d built.

Randall and Joe conferred quietly during that time, making sure they were ready.

“This has been such fun,” Randall said.  “I’m so very glad to have shared the experience with you, Joseph.”  He usually called Joe by his given name. 

“Me, too, Randy,” Joe said.

Skip ran across the stage behind the curtain.  “Places, everyone!” he said in an urgent half-whisper.

The curtain opened, once again showing Scrooge’s bedroom.  The fire in the fireplace flared brightly, and Joe suddenly appeared on the stage.  Impromptu applause broke out and a few people whistled.

Randall and Joe grinned at each other and waited for the din to die down so they could continue.

Joe held his arms wide.  “Ebenezer Scrooge! Come get to know me better.  I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present.  Why are you so scared?  Ain’t you seen me before?”

Randall had to work hard to keep a straight face as the audience laughed at Joe’s Southern accent opposite Randall’s elegant one.  Everyone else in the play had adopted an English accent as well, but Joe just couldn’t manage it.  The aberration was amusing.

Randall said, “No.  I do not celebrate the day, sir.”  He wasn’t supposed to say “sir,” but it was second nature because he said it so much to Joe.

Joe smiled a little.  “Well, I’ve never seen anyone like you, either.  I only see a tiny spark of happiness in your heart—a candle flame where a raging fire should be!”

The fireplace flared again and Randall cowered while Joe laughed joyfully.  The audience laughed with him before the play carried on again.

              Len and the soldiers raced for Dawson.  The Loyalty leader’s heart beat with trepidation over whatever was happening in the town.  As the rode into town, the soldiers led him to the playhouse.

              “The telegram said to come here,” Abernathy said, dismounting.

              Len did the same.  “What’s going on here?  Why are there so many people?”

              “It’s reasonable to assume that since it’s a theater that a play is in progress,” Abernathy said.

              Portmouth said, “I’ll go on in with Len.  You go check in with the sheriff, Abernathy.”

              “Yes, sir,” Abernathy said, hurrying away.

              Len mounted the stairs to the porch of the large gray-and-white building.  They entered through the white double doors, stepping into the lobby.  Another pair of double doors lie ahead of them, beyond which they could hear the play. 

              “The trouble must be in there,” Portmouth said. 

              Going inside the darkened theater, they looked around to see what was wrong, but they didn’t see anything.  Len watched the play for a few moments before he recognized Joe’s voice.

              “How the hell—?”

              He grunted when a gun was jammed into his side.

              “Don’t make any funny moves, Len, and I’ll let you live.  We’re just gonna sit down here in the corner and watch the play.  Keep your mouth shut and I won’t blow a hole in you,” Portmouth said.

              Len looked into his brown eyes that gleamed with a malevolent light.  There was an unsettling vibe about the soldier and Len knew that Portmouth meant it.  Slowly they moved to a couple of chairs and sat down, Portmouth keeping his gun against Len’s side the whole time.

*****

              The bell above the door of Sawyer’s shop jangled loudly as “Abernathy” burst inside, frightening Renee and Devon who sat by Sawyer’s desk.

              “Are they ready?” Switch asked.

              Renee laughed.  “Oh, Pa, you look so funny!”

              Switch grinned under the big mustache.  “If you didn’t know it was me, you wouldn’t know it was me, huh?”

              “That’s right, Mr. Keller,” Devon said.  “Here are the pictures for you.”

              Switch took them from her, kissed both women’s cheeks, and ran out the door again.

*****

              On stage, Joe eloquently said, “The Cratchits aren’t special people.  They don’t wear fine clothes or good shoes, so when it rains out, their feet get wet.  They’re not part of high society or rich.  But they’re still happy and appreciate what they do have; each other.  And they’re content to pass the time together.”

              Scrooge and the Spirit of Christmas Present sat in a corner of the Cratchits’ dining room while the family sang happily together.

              “They’re not good singers, but they sing just because it makes them happy.  You oughta think about that.  Only fifteen shillings a week, but still they sing.  Hear them until they’re done,” Joe said in a wistful tone that brought tears to some people’s eyes.

              Randall said, “I am listening, spirit.”  When the song was over, Randall said, “Spirit, it must be time to leave.  I must think about what has occurred here …”

              Joe held out his arm to him.  “All right.  Take my robe again.”

              Randall took hold of it and the lights were doused, the curtain closing again.

              As the play wore on, Len almost forgot that he was being held prisoner.  He’d never seen the play and he was getting caught up in it.  When Joe’s part was over, the audience cheered as he left Randall with the Ghost of Christmas Future.  The specter was played by Black Fox who had the height and correct bearing to play the daunting figure.

              From backstage, Joe stood with Lacey, watching their friends perform.  As they did, they kept hope alive in their hearts that some magic from the Christmas season would work in their own lives.

*****

              Switch slipped into the theater when the curtain closed again, finding Skip.  Quickly they traded outfits while the set was changed.  Skip applied more glue to the mustache and eyebrows Switch had taken off and Switch made sure that he looked the part of the soldier he’d just been.  He smoothed down his suit and Skip combed his hair for him.

              “Good job holding down the fort, uh, playhouse, I mean,” Switch said.

              “Thanks.”  Skip ran out the back door off the stage and raced around to the front of the building, carrying the pictures Switch had handed to him.

              Switch ran across the stage, seamlessly picking up where Skip had left off.  “Places!”

              Up came the lights and the curtain opened on the last scene of the play.  As Rick sat beside Len, Skip came up behind him, patting him on the shoulder to let him know that everything was in place.

              Rick grinned up at him and winked while Skip smiled back.

*****

              Randall held Tiny Tim, played by Pete Allen, a blond, five-year-old boy from Hope House, who shouted, “God Bless us, everyone!” thus cueing the rest of the cast to come back out on stage and sing Silent Night.  The audience joined in and the auditorium filled with the song.  Len couldn’t keep from humming along, which amused Rick.

              When the song was over, the audience stood up, giving the cast a standing ovation for their stellar performance.  As the cast members bowed and the audience clapped, Rick handed the pictures to Len, who looked through them, hardly believing his eyes.  His men had been fooling around with a woman?  And he saw whiskey bottles on the table in the picture.

              Rick leaned over.  “Now, here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to go up on that stage with me and announce that you’re letting Joe go because the witnesses lied, which we both know they did.  If you do that, we’ll make you look like a hero.  If you don’t, these pictures are going to be run in the papers and your outfit will be embarrassed.  They’ll replace you as the head of the Loyalty Council.  And if you ever try to come after anyone in this community again, these will be published immediately.  Which will it be, scum bucket?”

              Len looked at Rick, who ground the gun harder into his ribs.  The hard glare and the other soldier who stood behind them with an equally steely look on his face convinced him that they meant business.  He knew they had him backed into a corner.  It would be better to let Joe go than to face the alternative.

              Angrily, he said, “Fine.  I’ll do it.”

              “Good choice,” Rick said.  “Let’s go.”

              Down on the stage, Switch held up his hands for silence.  “Ladies and gentlemen, a short time ago, some news was passed on to me that shows that this truly is the season of miracles.  Oh, here he comes now,” Switch said, relieved to see Rick and Skip coming down the aisle with Len.  They mounted the stage and came over to Switch.  Rick had kept his gun hidden but still trained on Len.

              “Mr. Washburn, the head of the Loyalty Council has something to tell us,” Switch said.

              Joe moved to the front of the cast, watching intently. 
What did they do?

              Len cleared his throat.  Switch said, “You’ll have to speak loudly.”

              Len cleared it again.  “Hi, everyone.  I, uh, thought this would be a good time to tell you that I’m lettin’ Joe go because the witnesses against him were unreliable.”  He clenched his teeth for a moment.  “He never said anything wrong, so I’m releasing him.”

              More shouting and clapping met his announcement and people hugged Joe as he moved towards Len.  A camera flash went off and Len looked down to see Sawyer positioned in front of the stage with his camera.  Then he felt someone take his hand in handshake.  He stared into the hazel eyes of an angry yet amused Mayor Dwyer.

              Joe said loudly, “Thank you for being a fair and just man, Len, and doing the right thing.”  Joe kept shaking his hand and smiling as Sawyer took some more pictures.

              Len gave him a sickly smile and then looked at the camera, thinking that he was going to murder Mort and Chuck. 

              Joe moved closer to Len.  “Don’t ever underestimate me or the people of this town again.  You have no more power here, you jackass.  Merry Christmas to you.”  He gave Len’s back a hard slap that was meant to look friendly and then moved away, beginning to celebrate his freedom with his family and friends.

*****

              Later that night at the Dwyer estate, Joe’s return home was toasted and everyone involved in the plot to free him from jail celebrated.  He was amazed at their ingenuity and their devotion to him and his family.  Joey had said it was boring just lying there in the cell, but it had been necessary.  He looked so much like Joe that with his face buried in a pillow, Mort and Chuck wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference in the two men.  They would have just thought Joe was sleeping.

              Switch and Hope hadn’t liked the idea of Renee playing decoy, but with Devon and Sawyer with her, and Raven guarding all of them, they’d felt she’d been safe. 

              Sitting in the parlor, during a break in the conversation, Joe said, “I can’t thank y’all enough for everything you did.  I’m humbled and grateful and I’ll never forget what you did for me.  If there’s anything I can ever do for you, just name it.”

              Rick said, “Just keep being yourself, Tex.  That’s all we need.”

              Hope said, “I’ll drink to that!”

              Another toast was raised and the party began breaking up. 

              Devon walked with Sawyer to his car where they took their time saying goodnight.  By the time they parted, both of them were very warm and they didn’t mind the cold.  Devon watched him drive away, joy in her heart over her father’s release and because she was back with the man she loved.

*****

              A blustery snowstorm descended on Dawson that weekend, delighting its inhabitants with its Christmassy, white decoration.  On Monday, a Christmas parade took place.  Thor had been able to get a special permit for the event from the governor and Joe had talked him into playing Santa since he had the build for it.

              There was enough snow that they were able to use Joe’s sleigh and Clydesdales to pull Thor in it.  The commissioner had done his best to try to control the Loyalty group, but like some of those groups, Len had gone rogue.  Thor was now in talks with Montana’s legislature, trying to reason with them and inform them of how ridiculous the Loyalty parties were.

              He and Joe had formed an alliance.  Joe told him that the Dawsonites wouldn’t tolerate any more abuse from Len’s group or any other and that they would defend themselves.

              The parade was a huge success.  Santa threw candy to the kids and a band played Christmas carols while Joe stood on the float, encouraging the crowd to sing along.  A few soldiers had returned home and they had their own float.  They waved while the people gathered along the parade route cheered and clapped for their brave men.  As the parade wound down, the crowd dispersed, going about their business with high spirits and happy anticipation for the holidays just ahead.

*****

              On Christmas Eve, Sawyer and Devon took a ride, desiring some time away from all of the festivities.  He drove since his ankle was now strong enough to work the pedals of his Model T.  They didn’t have a specific destination in mind, but they wound up at the river by the bridge that overlooked the waterway above the Benson ranch.

              They watched the partially frozen surface glitter in the moonlight.  Sawyer gathered Devon close, spreading the quilt they’d brought over their laps.

              “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked.

              She saw it in his eyes.  “I have some idea.”

              He smiled.  “Good.  I want you to be mine for the rest of my life and I don’t ever want to be apart again.  The best way I know to make sure that never happens is to make you my wife.  Will you marry me, Devon Dwyer?”

              His sincere, straightforward proposal was fitting with his personality.  He’d always been direct, sometimes sarcastic, and stubborn.  But his kindness, sense of humor, generosity, and dependability far outweighed any negative attributes.  He was also brave in the face of danger and took his commitments seriously.  She knew that he would be a wonderful husband and father.

              “I would be honored to be your wife.  Yes, Sawyer Samuels, I’ll marry you,” she said.

              Holding her tighter, he kissed her passionately and a wave of longing swept through Devon.  She felt a little faint from it and hung onto him.  Sawyer’s happiness was boundless as they embraced.  Then he remembered the ring in his coat pocket and pulled away from her reluctantly.