Always and Forever Read Free

debate, but the Exodus continued. Whole congregations from churches in Tennessee and North Carolina added their numbers to the throng of men, women, and families with children seeking hope and a new life on the plains. In fleeing the death and fear being fueled by White Leaguers and kluxers, southern Blacks left the well known for the unknown and never looked back.
    Many of the pioneers came prepared, bringing with them all the implements needed to start life anew on the vast desolate plains, but others did not. By 1880, the newspapers were filled with tragic stories of starving, needy refugees. Black churches and aid societies did what they could by sending food, clothing, and money, as did sympathetic societies in England.
    Closer to home, the great Chicago meatpacking king Philip D. Armour pitched in by soliciting donations from his wealthy friends and sending beef from his own plants to help feed those in need. Now, five years later, the Exodus had reduced to a trickle. Some colonies had prospered and many had died, but the face of the country had been changed forever as a result of the determination of men like Price and his friends—and the determination of the women soon to be their brides.
     
    At the bank a week later, Grace sat at her desk going over the list of supplies she’d need for the journey whena knock on her office door made her look up. “Come in.”
    Lionel Rowe, the bank’s head clerk, entered. During enslavement, Lionel had been head butler to one of the oldest families in Virginia. He continued to carry that formal air to this day. Today he was as impeccably dressed as always in a dark suit and snow-white shirt. As the aunts liked to point out, the short brown-skinned man was still quite handsome, in spite of his having celebrated his sixtieth birthday last October. “There’s a man from the sheriff’s office here to see you.”
    A confused Grace asked, “What on earth for?”
    “He says it has to do with that man Emerson you hired to lead your wagon train.”
    She was speechless for a moment as she tried to figure out how her newly hired guide and the sheriff’s office could be connected, but since she had no answers she said simply, “Have him come in.”
    Twenty minutes later, Grace was seated at her desk with her head in her hands, wondering, What now? It seemed Mr. Emerson had gotten himself killed in a knife fight at a tavern on the city’s south side two nights ago. According to the man from the sheriff’s office, two drunks began brawling over a prostitute’s favors and when Emerson tried to stop the fight he’d been stabbed. The authorities found Grace’s calling card in his pocket and had come to ask about next of kin, but she’d known Emerson less than a week and could offer up no helpful information.
    The news had solved the mystery as to why Emerson hadn’t shown up for the meeting they’d had scheduled for yesterday. It also threw her plans for the wagon train into flux. Where in the world would she find a replacement? Finding him had been a hard enough task. When she first began her search for a guide, she’d talked toeveryone she knew and posted broadsides in various sections of the city. Once word got around that the man hired would be paid a substantial amount of gold in exchange for his services, candidates descended upon the bank like a hard three-day rain.
    Most had no experience whatsoever and seemed interested only in the gold. The few who were qualified laughed out loud when she told them it would be an all-woman expedition; they seemed to think women were incapable of mastering the skills necessary to complete the journey successfully, and wanted nothing to do with the trip. Only Mr. Emerson seemed to find the task a worthwhile challenge. Granted, he had the twinkle of mischief in his eye and Grace sensed he’d end up being a handful, but he’d been the only candidate, so he’d gotten the job. And now?
    She got up and walked to her window. Now that winter