Queen of the Cowboys

The Mayor of Lanore Hills

The mayor's house was not hard to find. Reflective of the new money that built Lanore Hills, it was an elaborate two-story building, with wooden walls free of the signs of aging, rot, and warpage that occurred with cheaper types of wood and finishing. A big porch created a welcoming air to the building, with large columns framing either side and connecting to a second-floor balcony that must lead into the master bedroom. From that vantage point, the mayor would be able to see the whole of Lanore Hills and the surrounding areas. Buchanan wondered briefly if he could see the gang of cowboys camped a couple miles out, or if they were missed in a case of the mayor only seeing what he was looking for.

Buchanan had a vague outline of a plan. He would obtain an invitation to dinner at the mayor's house, as politicians these days have been trying to improve their image by being more hospitable. After dinner, assuming the mayor's wife left to let the men talk, he would take the chance to finish off the mayor and be out the door before his wife could call the police.

As he approached the porch, Buchanan saw a sign that read The Langstrums. The woodwork was impressive, yet another instance of the wealth of the family.

He was about to knock on the door when a voice to his left said, "Howdy, stranger."

Buchanan whipped around to see an elegant woman sitting on a chair in the corner, knitting from a ball of yarn in a basket to her side. The knitting needles clicked in the silence as Buchanan took a moment to regain his composure.

"Howdy, ma'am," he said once the shock wore off. "I was looking to have a word with the mayor and his wife." At that, she smiled in a way that made Buchanan uneasy. "You wouldn't happen to be Mrs. Langstrum, would you?"

"Call me Nancy," she said. Nancy Langstrum had a pretty face to go with her pretty voice. Yet, in Buchanan's mind, the way she dressed and held herself clashed with the rough and ready lifestyle of the folks making a living in the plains. He could see no discomfort in her posture, however; Nancy looked right at home.

"Well, Nancy," Buchanan said, trying out the woman's name, "it's a pleasure to meet you. I rode into town earlier today, and I make it a habit of getting acquainted with of the mayor of each place I visit. Lanore Hills truly is a sight to behold, I believe in no small part owing to the town's leadership."

Again, the unnerving smile from Nancy Langstrum, quickly disappearing as the smile finally reached her eyes. "Ain't you just cute as a peach? I'm sure Andrew would love to meet you. You simply must join us for dinner tonight." Then, without waiting for an answer from Buchanan, she set down her knitting needles, hooked her arm through his, and led him inside.

The inside was even more stunning than the exterior of the building, perfectly blending elegance and homeyness in a way that made Buchanan imagine his future, one in which he would have a place like this and a beautiful family to come home to. He shook himself from his daydream as he was urged farther into the house by Mrs. Langstrum, taking note of the guns and animal skulls that adorned the walls.

"The mayor adores hunting," Mrs. Langstrum said, noticing what caught his attention. "Big game is the ways of the plains. My husband never was much of a miner. Our fortune came from trade and strategic alliances."

That last part seemed a little strange to Buchanan, but he had to admit Mr. Langstrum was an impressive hunter. Speaking of...

"Where is Mr. Langstrum? If you don't mind my asking," Buchanan said. He had extricated himself from Mrs. Langstrum's arm and was perusing the first floor of the mayoral mansion, admiring the décor and taking note of the layout of the house. The living room took up the majority of the first floor, with doorways leading off to what must be the kitchen, dining room, and back porch. Through the window of the door to the back porch, Buchanan saw a small yard created by the surrounding buildings and a short fence that would be easy to hop over in a quick escape.