Gunpowder Tea (The Brides Of Last Chance Ranch Series) Read Online Free PDF

drove the wagon through town slow as water traveling uphill. Sitting between the two older women, Annie had to keep swiping the feathers from Lula-Belle’s hat away from her face.
    Lula-Belle’s dour expression matched the drab gray color of her dress. The two women were such complete opposites in dress and disposition it was hard to believe they were sisters.
    Earlier, Annie persuaded Lula-Belle to stop at the post office, where she arranged for a mailbox, another crucial task at the start of a new assignment.
    She was now anxious for her journey to end. The sooner she arrived at the ranch and settled in, the sooner she could get to work. If only it wasn’t so hot. Perspiration ran down the side of her face and she dabbed it away with a handkerchief.
    Cactus Patch was a town of sun, sand, and shimmering air. Adobe buildings with false-faced fronts lined the street on both sides. They passed several saloons, a general mercantile store, and a hotel. Opposite the hotel was a doctor’s office and, at the end of the street, a windmill and stables. Tall green posts rose above the rooftops, draped with a network of wires.

    “Those posts belong to the Arizona Telephone and Telegraph Company,” Aunt Bessie explained with a prideful look. “Cactus Patch now has the telephone and I’m in charge of central.”
    “Really?” Annie knew that nearby Tombstone had telephones but hadn’t expected Cactus Patch to have them too. Perhaps the little desert town wasn’t as behind the times as she’d imagined. That would certainly make her job easier.
    “Just got back from St. Louis for special training,” Aunt Bessie continued.
    Lula-Belle made a disgusted sound from the driver’s seat. The feathers on her hat drooped in such a way as to match the disapproving curve of her mouth. “A woman’s place is in the kitchen, not minding everyone’s business.”
    Aunt Bessie lifted her nose. “For your information, the telephone company prefers women operators to men or boys.” She turned to Annie to explain. “Women are much more dependable. You’ll never catch us drinking beer or using profanity. And we’re always on hand.”
    “That’s true,” Annie said. “We used to have telephone boys in Chicago but they left their posts to play in the snow and were replaced by girls.”
    “Are you from Chicago?” Aunt Bessie asked.
    “Yes,” Annie said, though she was actually from Peoria. It was essential to stay close to the truth without giving too much away. In any case, it wasn’t always easy to hide the nasally vowels and dropped letters of her native Illinois dialect.
    Bessie’s sister opened her mouth to say something but was distracted by a man waving for them to stop. News had traveled fast and already a crowd lined the street and clamored for details of the town’s latest robbery.
    Lula-Belle glowered as she tried to steer around the mob butBessie appeared to be in her glory and broke into a buttery smile. The sudden attention didn’t make her look younger than her sixty-some years but certainly more spry.
    She answered questions left and right. “Yes, there were three of them,” she yelled.
    “Never saw any of them before in my life,” she shouted at a woman in a poke bonnet.
    “Yes, of course I feared for my life.”
    “Her name is Annie Beckman and she’s Miss Walker’s latest heiress.”
    Annie smiled and waved. People back home were much more circumspect. At least they didn’t shout one’s business out in public. Aunt Bessie showed no qualms in telling one and all everything she knew and a few things she didn’t. She was, in essence, an operative’s best friend.
    A tall, skinny man with a thin mustache ran up to the wagon.
    “’Xcuse me, ma’am. Name’s Stretch. I’m headin’ for the Last Chance now. If you’d like a ride, I’d be happy to take you there.”
    It was an offer too good to pass up. “Thank you,” Annie said. “I’d be most grateful.”
    “Now isn’t that nice?” Bessie’s