Alan Poster spent the day making plans after returning from proposing to Lori. He was convinced she only refused him because of her loyalty and obedience to her brothers. But soon, she would know marrying him was best.

He knew just the man to help him, a man who had done business with his father for years. Gregor Hendry, an honorable man, made his living as a trapper in Colorado and Montana, but because of the dwindling sales of furs up north, he'd moved to Missouri. Raised by Cherokee Indians, he lived with them for part of the year and there wasn't much he couldn't do. If there was one man who could stand up to the Forester Brothers, he was the one... and he'd never hurt a woman.

The only way to hire him for this job was to write a letter the man couldn't refuse. Gregor had a high moral standard of right and wrong. Thankfully, he was in Missouri this time of year, which would make it easier to contact him, than on the reservation in Oklahoma.

To Gregor Hendry,

I am afraid this letter is to request a favor of you. To explain my situation is difficult for me. You see, the woman I want to marry, Lori Forester, was denied me by her five brutal brothers insisting she move with them to Texas. I heard they had plans to offer her as a bride to a neighbor in exchange for land. She is a lovely obedient woman who loves her brothers, but if I can bring her back to me, and we marry quickly, they cannot separate us again. She doesn't belong marrying a stranger who will make her live in such a hostile environment as that desert when I know I can make her happy. It would do no good for me to come after her, they would only stop me. Regardless, it is impossible to leave my father at this time, for he is doing poorly and I must run the business until his recovery.

I hope to persuade you to go to Texas and save my love from a life worse than death. We belong together where I can give her a life she deserves. I know how happy I can make her. To compensate you for your trouble, I'm willing to pay you five hundred dollars. If you agree to this endeavor, I will meet you at your hunting cabin. From there, I will take my love to a minister and marry her promptly. I await your answer.

One word of warning: This could be dangerous because her brothers are gunmen. I recommend you try and find her alone and offer this letter addressed to her as proof I sent you. Because of her loyalty to family, it may be necessary to take her out of the area and give her time to think about what I wrote. Lori has long blonde hair, eyes as blue as the sea, and stands a slender five and a half feet tall. Her beauty is beyond description.

My gratitude,

Alan Poster

P.S. Their address is a ranch outside of Clear Creek, Texas. Directions there can be received by the wire service if you decide to accept this plea.

Alan folded the letter and began a letter to Lori. She wouldn't trust Gregor, and would probably refuse to come since most of the time Gregor looked like a wild man. He began the letter explaining how he knew him.

My dearest Lori,

I have sent you a man who you can trust to bring you to me. His appearance is rough, but my father has known Gregor Hendry for years. He is a trapper who knows the land and can successfully help you escape your brothers.

The part of Texas you have been taken to is a barren desert, in a hostile environment, with ignorant poor people. Thinking of you trying to survive there tears me apart. It isn't right that your brothers think only of themselves forcing you to live that way and then sell you off for their gain by choosing your husband for you. Your beauty deserves the finer things in life. Silks for your skin, perfumes from France, and trips to see the world. I will give you the luxuries you deserve for all the sweetness you and I will share. We can visit the theater, grand hotels, and eat at the finest restaurants the world has to offer.

Do not fret about clothing, as I promised before you left, I would feel privileged to buy you whatever you need from furs to silks from India. Please be assured I will keep you safe. Until you can decide to accept my proposal of marriage, a little trip abroad would give you time to consider. Please, be unafraid of coming to me.

My deepest admiration and love,

Alan David Poster

He reread the letter and smiled at the way it sounded. He was also confident that once she read it, she would be eager to come back. It was exhilarating to think of Lori as his wife. Now, all he had to do was send the letters and wait. If Gregor Hendry said yes, he would have some planning to do with his mother. She would be very pleased to hear he was taking a bride.

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Over a week had passed when he received a wire from Gregor. He accepted the job, and Lori hadn't even left Virginia yet. Gregor would have plenty of time to make a plan, notify him when to arrive at his cabin in Missouri, and from there, he would take Lori on a trip to New York. A nice voyage across the sea would prevent her brothers from interfering, and then they could marry on the ship. Nothing could stop him from gaining what he wanted. Soon, she would be his.

Catching a Train to Texas

Lori stood outside the corral at the depot watching Brad and Jacob load their horses onto the stock car. Frank had gone into the general store to get food supplies for the trip, while Thomas and Bo loaded the gear into the baggage car.

"Quit daydreaming. You'll have hours to do that." Frank laughed as she jumped with surprise. He thrust the full picnic basket into her arms. "You're in charge of the food. I bought what I could."

She weighed the basket with a curl of her arm. "Did you leave anything for anyone else?"

A quick wink and he strolled over to Brad who was coming down the ramp dusting off his britches. They spoke about something, laughed, then turned towards Lori.

They all grouped together to approach the passenger car. Jacob, with his twin guns strapped to his legs, led the way with Bo beside him. Brad stayed beside Lori, Frank and Thomas brought up the rear until they stepped up to the train and moved into a single file to board. They marched down the aisle towards the best seats. Lori felt as if she wore pigtails instead of a fashionable hat.

Jacob stopped in the aisle to wait for Lori to take her seat. His eyes never relaxed until the basket was placed beneath the bench and Brad settled beside her. The rest of them took their positions surrounding her in a solid wall of armed protection.

The train slowly pulled away from the station with a jerk and the sound of clanking metal. The windows were opened at the top to allow a fresh breeze. But as the train gained some speed, the faint smoke from the locomotive occasionally seeped inside. She took her little-embroidered hanky from her sleeve and held it to her nose to mask the smell.

Brad pulled his hat low over his eyes slouching down in the seat beside her. "Kitten, you won't even notice the smell by the time we arrive in Sweetwater."

He was right. Before long, the hanky was forgotten and her new novel was opened. By the time they arrived in Fort Worth, days later, she was wearing the smell from the smokestack, a wrinkled dress, and a drooping hairstyle. The attempt to sleep while sitting up had been impossible—even with Brad's arms holding her. Exhaustion had her focusing on a long hot bath, a hot meal, and sleeping for twelve solid hours stretched out on a bed. They had two glorious days before catching the train to Sweetwater. Time she would cherish.

Brad left the care of the horses and baggage up to his brothers, while he took Lori to the hotel. The moment she stepped inside, her hands covered her mouth to stop the laughter. Whoever chose the decor must have thought red wallpaper added class. Brass lanterns hung on the walls for light, but from there, it was all hunting lodge.

A huge buffalo head was mounted on one wall, with a bearskin rug placed in front of the potbellied stove. Chairs circled around it with brass spittoons nearby. On the other wall, a stuffed bobcat was mounted on a shelf high above, as if it were watching those below. While Brad collected the room keys, she glanced up and saw the largest longhorns she had ever seen. They had to be at least six-foot in length. It wasn't until she moved in front of the staircase and looked up at the second floor landing, that she spotted the life-size statue of an Indian warrior carved from wood.

Lori stepped closer to the bottom step to see it better, but before she knew it, she was climbing until she stood looking directly at him. The muscles of his body revealed strength. His thick legs were spread wide with his arms crossed over his chest. This stance demonstrated his confident authority as a warrior. Lori reached out and ran her fingertips over his thigh just beside the edge of the breechcloth hugging his slender hips. Moccasin boots were inches below his knee.

As if in slow motion, her eyes traveled back up to his lean face sculpted with sharp edges across his cheekbones and jaw. His lips were thick, his nose thin. But the expression in his eyes emanated confidence. She must have stared into those eyes for minutes thinking he would look at her before she realized what she was doing. His long hair looked thick and soft with a feather hanging upside down on the side of his head.

She admired the rendering of such a magnificent work of art, but the figure of such a man made her heart race.

Brad leaned down next to her ear and whispered, "If you ever look at a man that way, you better be married to him."

Lori blushed from being caught. "Just admiring the workmanship."

"Of course you were."

He skipped back down the steps to the front desk. Before she followed, she took one more look and laughed at the frown on Brad's face as he waited for her. Once he was satisfied she would join him, he ordered a bath sent up to Lori's room. But the clerk informed him the bathhouse was out back. She wasn't sure what the clerk meant by a bathhouse.

Brad handed his saddlebags to the clerk to be stored behind the desk for him to collect later, then grabbed her leather case and led her out the back door. The building was small with windows near the roofline.

Only one door led in or out, and the room was long and narrow. Along the wall, pegs had been added for clothing and a bench was built beneath. Six large tubs were spaced in a row with folding muslin screens placed between them, but none were fixed to the floor. In the corner across the room, a coal stove was used for heating water.

Lori took one look at the lack of real privacy and balked. "Can't they send a hip-tub to my room? I could make do with that."

"Don't worry about it, Kitten. You'll have the whole place to yourself with me guarding the door." He walked towards a tub in the back corner of the room and set her bag on the bench. Then, he proceeded to move a couple of the privacy screens until the corner tub was enclosed. "There. This should give you some privacy with me here."

An elderly man dropped a stack of towels on the bench and took the ticket for the bath from Brad. While they waited for the tub to be filled, Lori took a clean dress from her traveling case and shook it out hanging it up on a peg for the hot steam to work on the wrinkles. The minute this gray-haired man finished carting the buckets of water, Brad escorted him outside to join him in having a cigar.

Lori figured she had the time to finish her bath and get dressed before they smoked one cigar. She didn't dawdle in stripping her clothes off or getting into the tub, but sinking into the hot water deserved a moment. Her muscles sang with joy. She scrubbed her hair twice and washed her skin 'til it turned pink. By the time she finished the room smelled of lilacs.

After drying off, she slipped on a fresh dress, twisted her damp hair into a bun, and hid it beneath a cloth bonnet. The clothes she'd worn on the train she regretfully packed with her clean clothes to take upstairs. She would have them washed tomorrow.

Her pistol went inside the pocket of her skirt. With a final look around, she headed for the door. Brad was just outside finishing his cigar. As soon as he saw her, he tapped out the stub, took the case from her, and walked away from the man managing the bathhouse.

"You smell like a flower garden."

"Thank you. The aroma of smoke from the train stunk." Her nose wrinkled with the reminder. "Brad, I need to dry my hair before we go eat."

"You'll have time. I need to get the others." He swung the hotel's back door open. As she passed him to go inside, he noticed her damp bonnet. "How long do you need? I'm sure they're as hungry as I am."

"Have a beer, relax a little; I shouldn't need more time than that."

He hesitated, "If you fall asleep, we'll leave you there 'til morning."

"Don't worry, I won't. I'm hungry too."

They climbed the stairs from the lobby, passing the sculpture, and of course, she couldn't help but examine it once more. That loin cloth drew her eyes to what it hid once again, along with those carved muscles traveling down his stomach, but Brad grabbed her hand and tugged her along making her laugh.

She wasn't sure what to expect inside the rooms considering the hotel's décor. But as Brad opened the door, she saw it was perfectly plain. No rugs, pictures, or fancy wallpaper, just a chest of drawers with a mirror and a cast-iron bed with clean linens. It looked heavenly.

Brad put her case on the floor, apparently uncertain about it as he looked around. Lori clasped his arm to assure him. "I appreciate the help and the protection, but I'll be fine. If anyone tries to come through that door, I'll shoot and ask questions later. Go on and join the others."

"Lock the door, and don't leave the room for any reason until one of us comes for you." At her nod, he stepped out and shut the door.

She locked it behind him and then heard his footsteps fade as he walked away.