Ashes and Memories Read Online Free PDF

a place to start over.”
    They stopped before a closed door flanked on both sides by bay windows. A sign on the door warned No Trespassing.
    “Here we are." Reece MacBride turned the key in the lock. A bell jingled softly as he pushed the door open and stepped aside for Emma to enter.
    The office seemed to enfold her in a warm embrace of nostalgia, and she took a deep, raged breath. She'd come home.
    The room was small and cluttered with printing equipment. Dust coated everything and danced in the rays of sunlight that filtered through dirty windows. But Emma saw past the grime and disarray and imagined what it could look like after a good cleaning.
    “So, what would you take for this place, Mr. MacBride?" She tried to keep the enthusiasm out of her voice. It wouldn't do to let on how badly she wanted this office.
    “Please call me Reece,” he drawled, brushing his hands together. “You are a very decisive woman.”
    “Tell you what, Mr. MacBride,” she said, “I'll give you fifteen dollars a month.”
    Reece laughed. “I admire a woman with a sense of humor, Miss Parker. But I am afraid I could not possibly let you have it for less than forty.”
     “That's robbery! It's not like you have other offers to consider,” Emma pointed out.
    “How do you know I haven't turned down other offers?” he asked. “How do you know I'm not holding out for someone who is willing to pay my price?”
    “Are you?” she asked.
    He looked into her eyes for a long moment, his own dark and challenging. Something in their depths sent a shiver down her spine, like that certain glint in a horse's eyes that told you he was a rogue -- fearless, unwilling to be mastered and totally aware of his own ability to crush anyone who dared try to bend him to their will.
    Then he smiled, and his eyes softened. It was only a surface softness, as if some dark demon lurked behind his facade of civility. “There are living quarters upstairs which you are also welcome to use.”
    Emma did some quick figuring. Twenty dollars a month was a fair price, but not forty. If there was an apartment as well, she could save another twelve on a hotel room. “I'll give you thirty.”
    “Mr. MacBride!" A tall, lanky man in a bowler hat rushed into the room. He stood in the doorway, struggling to catch his breath. “I sure am glad I found you!”
    “What is it Hank?" Reece turned to face the man, one hand resting casually on the hilt of his revolver, the other on the edge of the table beside Emma.
    “Sheriff sent me,” Hank managed to gasp. “The judge is over at the jail.”
    “Thank you, Hank. Tell Sheriff Ryker I am on my way.”
    Hank nodded, and with a cursory glance at Emma, turned and hurried out.
    “The circuit judge has come to determine the identity of the unfortunate gentleman you saw hanging in the center of town this morning,” Reece told her. “Would you care to witness the event?”
    He paused, perhaps for effect. There was a certain dramatic flair to everything he did. He took a step closer to Emma, a shrewd smile curving one corner of his mouth. “For the paper, of course. Unless you're squeamish about day-old corpses.”
    Emma folded her arms beneath her breasts and leaned back against the table behind her, managing to put a little distance between herself and Mr. MacBride. Her stomach turned over at the image his words evoked, but she refused to give in to the nausea inside her. He was challenging her, and she would meet that challenge. “Are you going to accept my offer?”
    He extended a bent elbow toward her as if she were a grand lady and he a gentleman at a ball. Emma felt a smile spreading over her lips, in spite of her efforts to repress it. And she found herself taking his arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
    He glanced at her sidelong and patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his arm. “Thirty dollars a month it is, Miss Parker.”

CHAPTER TWO
     
    An overwhelming stench filled the small, dark