Hope by Barbara Goss (primary phonics books txt) 📗

something other than the best peach pie recipe this side of the equator. This was real reporting, something meaningful. Something to get her teeth into, as Maurice had already put it.

“But the folks back east don’t know much about it, do they?” Grace began a little tentatively. “The readers of the New York Guardian, for instance.” She raised her eyebrows hopefully. “What do you say, Mr. Mason? One last story?”

“Ah, now I see.” He chuckled. “You never give in, do you?”

“Well, you said yourself that you’d wished you’d given me something I could get my teeth into. Now’s your chance.” She smiled again, doing her best to hold the gaze of the old newspaper man.

“How are you going to get the story to me every week? You’ll be in the middle of nowhere,” he said, and Grace felt her spirits rise. If he was already talking practicalities, he was certainly thinking about it.

“And don’t look like that, Gracie, I haven’t said yes to anything yet.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to send it to you until I got to Oregon. It would be a complete story but broken into parts so that the paper could serialize it and get the readers hooked.”

“With tales of dysentery and wide-open spaces?”

“It’s more than that, Mr. Mason. It’s a tale of lives, and so many of them. The things which motivate people to go and the roles people take on throughout the journey. Right from the camp at Independence, Missouri to the Willamette River in Oregon.” Grace knew he was already getting a good feeling about it. “And just think, your very own Grace Miller reporting. I could even throw in a couple of recipes. You know, camp fire stews and that kind of thing.”

“You’re trying to win me over.”

“Yes, I am. Is it working?”

“I reckon so.” Maurice let out a great sigh as if he’d just lost his last hand in a big poker game. “I’ll tell you what, Gracie.” He paused for a deep breath. “You write me a warts-and-all account of the Oregon Trail. Leave nothing out. And if it’s good, which I am sure it will be, I’ll edit it myself. After all, I don’t want to lose any readers to dysentery if I can help it.” He chuckled. “But you know I’m making no promises here. It has to be good, Gracie. It has to be real good.”

“It will be good, Mr. Mason, I swear it!” Grace said and felt her heart pounding with excitement. “I won’t let you down, Sir. I will make my last piece for the New York Guardian the best piece I’ve ever written.”

“There’s just one stipulation, young lady,” Maurice said and peered at her closely again.

“Yes, Sir?” Grace hoped it wasn’t going to be something entirely unmanageable.

“You just see to it that you get there in one piece, do you hear me? Be careful what water you drink. Never take anything from a dirty looking pond. Just fast flowing water, that’s all. And no acts of daring either. You just travel sedately and keep to the wagon train. No wandering off for a better story. You never know who’s out there. You keep yourself good and safe.”

Grace swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “I will, Mr. Mason, I promise. I just want the opportunity to do this one big thing. And who knows? If it takes off in the New York Guardian, maybe the editors of the newspapers in Oregon will be ready to give me a chance.” Grace, not given to smiling all the time, wondered if she would ever be able to stop the grin that had spread over her face.

“I reckon they’ll have trouble ignoring you either way, honey. I don’t think I ever knew a woman like you in my life. Maybe your daddy’s name is what got you here, but it sure was that brain of yours that kept you here,” Maurice said and tugged at his moustache.

Finally, Grace felt the beginnings of tears; tears which she blinked away easily, but which had surprised her nonetheless.

“Thank you, Mr. Mason. Thank you for everything you have done for me, Sir. I shall never forget it for as long as I live.”

“And as I mentioned before, you make sure that’s a good long time.” He swung back the last of his brandy.

“I sure will,” Grace said and manfully did the same.

All the Prairie Roses Collection Stories

The authors of the 2019 Prairie Roses Collection,

Patricia PacJac Carroll

Caryl McAdoo

Barb Goss

Indiana Wake &

Vickie McDonough

hope you’ve enjoyed this story and plan to read all of them!

. . . Sadie

Prairie Rose Collection, Book 1

    Sadie Bluhm receives the letter to confirm she had been chosen to be the mail order bride for Conrad Frazier in America. She is delighted. Growing up an orphan, Sadie relishes the idea she has been chosen to belong to someone.

Conrad lost his wife six months ago. Desperate to find another, he enlists the help of an agency to find him the proper German bride. He needs a wife to continue onto California with the company he has signed up with. He will marry this Sadie, but she will not have his heart.

. . . Remi

Prairie Rose Collection, Book 2

    It isn’t within man to guide his own steps—or a woman.

    Between a wagon train and the deep blue sea, Agnes Remington Dalrumple, Remi for short, chooses the overland journey west over crossing the Atlantic with her mother and step-father. Her real father had posted a letter from a few years back

   Thwarted at every turn, every effort is dashed until a widower’s thirteen-year-old intervenes on her behalf. How can the headstrong woman place herself under the responsibility