Always and Forever Read Free Page A

seemed gone for good, the trees were sporting fat brown buds and the grass was starting to green, but Grace’s thoughts weren’t on the annual renewal brought about by spring. She was too busy trying to find a solution to the problems the wagon train faced as a result of Mr. Emerson’s untimely visit to that south side tavern.
    That evening at home, Grace told the aunts the sad news. Although they were sympathetic, they had no solution.
    The next day, Lionel Rowe came into her office un-announced and softly closed the door behind him. “There’s a man named Peterson out here to see you. I suggest you pretend to be busy so that I can send him away.”
    A bit taken aback by Lionel’s unconventional entrance, Grace, seated behind her desk, asked curiously, “Why?”

    “Because he’s inebriated.”
    Grace stared. “Drunk?”
    “Very.”
    Her disappointment showed in her tone. “He’s the man Mrs. Ricks thought might make a suitable replacement guide for the trip to Kansas City.”
    “Virginia Ricks should stick to her mops. The only ‘guiding’ this man is qualified to do is guiding a tankard to his lips. Shall I show him the door?”
    “No, send him in. Mrs. Ricks will never forgive me if I don’t at least see him.”
    “Grace—” he began warningly.
    She waved him off. “It’s all right, Lionel. Your concern is noted, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. To be on the safe side, have Mr. Jones post himself outside the door in case I do need assistance.” Mitchell Jones served as the bank’s constable.
    The impeccably dressed Rowe nodded but warned, “Okay, but you’re going to be sorry you didn’t take my advice.”
    And indeed, she was.
    Grace smelled Lucas Peterson the moment he walked in. The acrid odor wafting from his big burly body burned her eyes and nostrils like smoke. He was dressed in a shirt and a pair of breeches that looked to be made from tanned animal skin. The color appeared to be brown, but due to the stains left behind by perspiration, food, and grime, it was impossible to tell. The shaggy uncut hair was lint filled and gray. Because of his immense size, he’d probably been quite intimidating in his younger years, but now all his musculature had softened to fat. Grace would be willing to bet he hadn’t seen soap, water, or a barber in her lifetime.
    “You the lady needing the guide?” he asked. His brown eyes were bright with drink.

    Grace had been taught by her father to shake a man’s hand when introducing herself, but not this time; she stayed right behind her desk. “Yes, I’m Grace Atwood,” she stated, trying not to breathe too deeply, “but unfortunately, I hired someone for the position last evening.”
    Behind him she saw the smiling Lionel Rowe exiting the office. He did take pity on her, however, and leave the door slightly ajar to let in the fresh air.
    “Aw, that’s too bad,” Peterson was saying, in response to her lie about the job being filled.
    While Grace wondered how long a woman could hold her breath before fainting, Peterson’s drink red eyes scanned her slowly. When he’d looked his fill, he grinned, showing off tobacco-brown teeth. “You’re a pretty little thing, all that fine red hair. You know what they say about red-haired women,” he stated, then winked lewdly.
    Grace stiffened. “No, what do they say about redhaired women?”
    “That they’re real man pleasers—lots of fire.”
    If there’d been any doubts before, there were definitely none now. Grace wouldn’t let this man lead her across the street, let alone all the way to Kansas City.
    “Thank you for inquiring about the position, but as I stated, it’s no longer available.” The statement was a lie of course, but she’d lead the wagon herself before letting this offensive and smelly man anywhere near her enterprise.
    As if cued, Mitchell Jones, the bank constable, stepped into her office and Grace greeted him with gratitude in her voice. “Oh, Mr. Jones, good