Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,8

woman to carry on with the Indians . . . well, it defied understanding.

Then let me defy it.

Chapter 3

It’s hard to believe Samuel is gone. Murdered,” a stately gentleman declared.

“I think it may be the result of his views on people of color,” another added. “They might well be to blame for killing him and Berkshire.”

The man they knew only as Mr. Smith walked amongst the gathered elite and smiled. If they only knew.

“Mr. Smith, it’s so good to have you join us for our meeting.”

Smith tried to remember the man’s name. Johnson? Jamison? No, it was Jenson. “Mr. Jenson, it is my pleasure to be here.” He tapped his walking stick on the floor.

Smith knew the men gathered here felt as he did. There was no acceptance for people of color polluting the population of Oregon. There were laws on the books that went widely ignored, and today they were speaking on how to resolve that. The key, most agreed, was to get judges and officials who supported the laws and would pledge to see them upheld in office.

“Some of us plan to share supper after the meeting, if you’d care to join us,” Jenson added.

“I’m afraid previous obligations make that impossible, but thank you for the kind invitation.”

Generally, at these events, Samuel Lakewood would have been in charge, but Smith had grown weary of the man’s failings and inability to motivate his underlings. He had concluded that the only thing to be done was to kill Lakewood and his top man, Gerome Berkshire. He only wished he could stand up and announce that he’d done it and would do the same to any man here who chose to defy him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. He’d never allowed his leadership position to be known, except to a choice few. With Lakewood and Berkshire gone, that left only one man, and he was about to speak to him.

“Mr., uh, Smith,” the man greeted nervously. “I had no idea you were attending this evening’s meeting.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Smith replied. “Given the current situation, I felt it was necessary. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Carter?”

Elias Carter was no more than five feet, five inches and weighed nearly two hundred and fifty pounds. He didn’t strike an imposing figure, but was rather a rotund, sweating fool. At least in Smith’s eyes.

“I—I supposed that you would come eventually.” He tried to smile. “I just didn’t think it would be here . . . like this.”

“Well, wouldn’t you suppose that the murder of two of our most prominent members would necessitate my presence?”

“Ah . . . yes. Of course.” Carter was perspiring all the more. “But of course, no one knows of your leadership . . . save me.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that. I make myself scarce so as to be less noticeable. A sage such as myself needs to guard his appearance. While it’s perfectly acceptable to disagree with our current situation, one needn’t make one’s self out to be a madman.”

“No. No, of course not,” Carter agreed. He leaned a bit closer. “Is there anything I can do to aid you at this time?”

“Not here. I would, however, like you to come to my hotel after this meeting adjourns.” He handed Carter his card. “I’ve written the hotel and room number on the back. I’ll slip out of the meeting before anyone can corner me for discussion. See that you are there without delay after the meeting concludes.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll be there,” Carter said.

Smith tried not to notice that the man’s hand was shaking. It was good that Carter was afraid. He should be. If he counted his life precious, he would do what he was told and not interfere or improvise with the plans. After all, not following orders to the letter hadn’t served Lakewood or Berkshire well at all.

“I’m so excited to see Connie again. She’s been gone for far too long.” Faith Gratton crossed the kitchen of the boardinghouse to the icebox and took out a pitcher of lemonade.

“I’m excited to see her too,” her cousin Nancy Carpenter agreed. Nancy had just finished feeding her baby son, Jack, and was attempting to burp him. A soft whoosh of air passed from the infant’s mouth as he snuggled against her, already asleep.

Faith held up the pitcher. “Want some?”

“Please.” Nancy got to her feet. “I’m going to put Jack in his cradle, and I’ll be back to start peeling those potatoes.”

Faith had just finished pouring two glasses of lemonade when