Episode 3

Tycoon Harrington’s day was off to a bad start when he caught wind that another railroad man was down from Chicago looking to build a railroad through Mystic, where all the coal mines were flourishing. “The Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railway?” Harrington said. “Who do they think they are? If anyone is going to ship coal out of these parts on rail cars it’s going to be me!”

Harrington was out the door quickly to B. Bushell Esquire’s office insisting he help put a stop to this. Bushell took Harrington to see the judge where they pled their case for an injunction. “We all know this man Strickling from Chicago,” Bushell stated, “If we allow him to stake claim in Appanoose County he’ll own the entire town in a year.”

Harrington jumped from his chair. “He won’t own me!”

The judge pounded his gavel. “Mr. Harrington you’re out of order!”

“No, your honor, I’m out of bourbon. And at this time I need some badly.”

* * * * *

For the most part Baron Anderson was content with his life. He loved his ranch and seeing the fruits of his labor. The Italians in Clarkdale were all his friends. The Cattleman’s Association in Centerville, that represented the entire county, unanimously elected him chairman of the association. But what ached in his heart was Mystic, and how one night of drunken stupor had the entire town turn against him.

The key antagonists were the hard knocks of the Baptist Women’s League. Specifically Ms. Heather, Ms. Jill, and Ms. Luanne, who looked like angels when they sang in the church choir, but when it came to men who succumbed to the vices of alcohol, foul language, and fornication, they used their Bibles like rock hammers.

Baron Anderson had thought that their contempt for Madam Lorrie, who ran the Mystic Brothel, would help him gain favor with her, but quite the contrary. Madam Lorrie had her own opinion of the Baron and it wasn’t favorable. There were rumors that they were childhood sweethearts, that the Baron had broken her heart and that Madam Lorrie had broken his jaw. A rumor that Madam Lorrie adamantly denied, and that the Baron refused to talk about.

But on those straight whiskey nights, the Baron often made the mistake of riding into the town where he wasn’t welcome. And this was one of those nights. He rode his horse into town, tied it to the hitching post in front of the brothel, and staggered around to the back door. A group of children playing in the alley saw him and ran away in a panic. Everyone knew him. Before long the town Marshal would know, but he was the least of the Baron’s worries. The marshal would likely tell him to get on his horse and ride out. But the Baptist Women’s League? They were ruthless.

After pounding on the back door, Madam Lorrie opened it.

“What in God’s name are you doing here?”

The Baron removed his hat and looked her up and down. “My, don’t you look splendid. As stunning as a mountain sunrise.”

She walked closer to him, pinching her lips, then cursing him, jabbing her fingers into his chest, walking him backwards towards the front of the brothel.

“And just to make sure you never come back,” Madam Lorrie continued, “I’m going to give you something to help you remember why!”

She had a heck of a right hook, and she gave it to him. So unexpectedly that the Baron fell backwards onto the dust and manure of the brick street.

He tried to get up. “Lorrie! Come back!”

Before he could say another word, the Baptist Women’s League approached him. Shouting scripture and condemning him to hell. All he could do was cover his ears and pray for the marshal to rescue him.

* * * * *

Constable Howington had hoped for an invitation to dinner, but Lady Becky insisted he come for breakfast. “Being a man of carbohydrates,” she said, “I have just the thing for you.”

He put on his Sunday best and she sat him at her table, setting a plate of fluffy flapjacks in front of him. “These look amazing, Lady Becky.” She watched him eat and smiled proudly. He cut and ate and cut and ate and never said a word until he finished the last bite, licking his lips.

“These are the finest pancakes I’ve ever had! I simply don’t know how you do it!”

She blushed. “Oh, it’s just a little something I came up with.”

“There is something very special about these pancakes. You have a magic touch! People would fill a breakfast parlor just to eat them. The word would spread from town to town, and people would be coming from miles just to to eat your amazing pancakes!”

“Oh, Constable, you flatter me!”

“”I’m sure of it, Lady Becky. Some day you will make Centerville famous for these pancakes. So famous that one day they’ll have an annual event just to celebrate it!”

* * * * *

In the next episode of CENTERVILLE 1884: A. Strickling, president of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railway, makes his arrival in Centerville. Baron Anderson makes a shipping and supplies contract with the Jewett Freight Company, and encourages his Italian friends in Clarkdale to start a new lumber business in Centerville, and Railroad Tycoons Harrington and Strickling are already fighting over who gets to ship the lumber. We are introduced to Mayor Moritz and the newly formed school board. — with Brian Harrington and 7 others.