Always and Forever Read Free Page B

morning.”
    “Morning, Miss Atwood,” he replied, as he discreetly wrinkled his nose in response to the pungent Peterson.
    Unlike Peterson, the brawny, brown-skinned Jones was in prime shape. He’d served with the Ninth up inMinnesota before settling in Chicago and still had the tough, fit body of a cavalry man beneath his black suit. He towered over Peterson by more than a few inches.
    “Would you show Mr. Peterson out please, Mr. Jones? We’ve concluded our business.”
    “Be my pleasure,” the constable responded. “This way, sir.”
    Peterson didn’t balk, but as he walked to the door, he said to Grace, “Too bad you already hired somebody. I was looking forward to sharing a tent with you, Red.” He gave her a wink, then treated her to another tobacco-stained grin.
    Upon his exit, Grace rushed to the office’s lone window. Throwing it open, she stuck her head outside and drew in great deep breaths of sweet fresh air.
    The faint scent of Mr. Peterson’s visit lingered well into the afternoon. The low-spirited Grace had just about given up hope on ever finding a man to lead the wagon train when Felix Duggan, one of the younger clerks, knocked on her door and told her of a man he’d seen recently in one of the local taverns. To make extra money, Duggan kept books for the tavern’s owner. Felix hadn’t actually been introduced to the man in question, but had heard the man hailed from Texas.
    “His name’s Jackson Blake. I don’t know if he’ll do, Miss Atwood, but he looks rugged enough, and he doesn’t stink. Seems educated, too.”
    The fact that this potential candidate didn’t smell pleased Grace immensely, but the sketchy information on his background did not fill her with a lot of confidence; however, at this juncture she had no other choice but to view Duggan’s news as positive. “Do you know where I might find him?”
    “Last night, I took the liberty of copying his address from his tavern account. Thought you might want it.”

    Grace took the slip of paper he handed her, and read: 677 Sunshine Lane . The street name did not seem familiar, but she was sure a hired cabbie would be able to get her there. Grace thanked Duggan for his help, then went back to the work piled on her desk.
     
    When she next came up for air, it was night. Running her hands over her weary eyes, she realized she’d worked through dinner again. The aunts would not be pleased. They thought she worked too hard to begin with and never got a proper amount of rest. But in Grace’s mind her father, Elliot, had not built the bank into a successful enterprise just to have his daughter lose everything because she did not give matters the energy and dedication they deserved.
    Grace had one more task to accomplish before she could end the day, but as she sat in the back seat of the hack she’d hired and looked out at the dark street, she began to wonder if maybe this task should’ve been saved for tomorrow morning.
    “Are you certain this is the right place?” she asked the hired driver, as she surveyed the torchlit lines of the large house in question. The mid-April night was cold and blustery and Grace pulled her long wool cape closer about her body.
    “Yep. Six seventy-seven Sunshine Lane. Says so right there on the fence post.”
    Under the light of the lantern atop the fence the address could be clearly seen, as could the words above it which read Sunshine’s Palace . Lively music could be heard emanating from the house’s interior and there were all types of carriages and rigs parked along both sides of the dirt road. In the few minutes since her arrival, she’d seen a stream of other carriages arrive andwatched well-dressed men of all races step out and head up the walk. “What is this place?”
    The driver hesitated a moment then said, “Pardon my language, but it’s a whorehouse, miss.”
    Grace’s eyes widened.
    The old Black driver turned to view her. “You’re not planning on going in there, are you? A