Sweet Forever by Ramona K. Cecil

she’d managed to avoid lying to him. But Elijah had developed a cough, causing the boy to press his little face into a pillow to muffle the sound. Sooner or later, Rosaleen feared she’d need to fabricate a story to explain the sounds.
    She gathered the pile of linens in her arms and started down the stairs.
    “Whoa there!”
    At the bottom of the stairs, Rosaleen gasped. She’d walked straight into Alistair Ralston.
    “Hey, come with me down to the Billiard Saloon tonight. We’ll have some fun fleecing salesmen and farmers.” He wrapped his long arms around her, sheets and all.
    “I have work to do, and then I have to get up early in the morning, Alistair.” She wriggled out of his grasp and attempted to walk around him.
    He caught her around the waist, his muscular arm clamping her hard against him. Until now, she’d never felt afraid of Alistair. His friendly smile and chuckle did not match the roguish glint in his eyes. “You could send me signals like you used to do for your dad. With your looks and my skill, we could clean up, Rosaleen. You know we could.”
    “That’s not my life anymore, Alistair. That’s not who I am now.” During her time here in Madison she’d begun to feel decent, and she liked that feeling. She wouldn’t let Alistair—or anyone for that matter—suck her back into the unscrupulous gambling life. Besides, at the moment she had Sally, Lizzie, and Elijah to see to.
    “Think on it, love.” With a wicked wink, he pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. “You can find me at the Billiard.”
    As Alistair strode out the front door, her head pivoted toward a sound near the parlor doorway. Her face grew hot at Jacob’s incredulous gaze. How much had he heard?
    Her heart deflated when he said nothing. He simply turned and walked back into the parlor.
    Rosaleen wanted to march into the parlor and tell Jacob she had no intention of joining Alistair at the Billiard Saloon. It took all her willpower to walk past the parlor and toward the backyard washtub. A conversation with Jacob would simply be too dangerous.

Twelve
    Jacob snapped the Bible shut and pushed away from his desk. Heaving a deep sigh, he rubbed his hand over his face. He’d searched the Proverbs for God’s wisdom yet found no answers to the troubles plaguing his heart.
    Rosaleen was driving him crazy.
    After giving her the Bible, he’d hoped she might begin asking questions about the scriptures. He’d been encouraged by the glimmer of interest she showed at Becky’s Fourth of July picnic.
    Lately, however, she’d shown little interest in speaking with him about the scriptures, or any other subject for that matter. Clenching his jaw, Jacob glanced toward the parlor doorway. He felt sure he knew who had caused the change in her.
    Alistair Ralston.
    Three nights ago, he’d heard the muffled but unmistakable sound of a man’s boots on the stairway leading to her attic room. He and Alistair Ralston were the only two men presently living in the boardinghouse. Jacob hated the images forming in his mind but could find no logic to explain them away.
    Only an hour ago, he’d caught her, once again, in Ralston’s arms. What was worse, the man had kissed her and invited her to the infamous Billiard Saloon.
    Jacob gave the chair a resolute shove against the desk. It was useless to try to work on his sermon with his mind insisting on steering toward dark thoughts. He might as well go work on the church. At least there, he could see the results of an hour’s endeavors.
    At the intersection of Mulberry and Main-Cross, he was surprised to see Rosaleen leaving Maynard’s Apothecary. A sudden fear seized him. Perhaps she’d been feeling unwell. That could explain her reticent mood of late.
    “Rosaleen, are you all right?” He glanced at the basket on her arm.
    “Oh, yes.” Her face flushed a deep pink, and she scooted an amber bottle beneath a green and white gingham cloth. “Just—just an errand.” Her face looked as if it