Read The Heirloom Brides Collection for Free Online

that greedy, dumb animal a peppermint. A peppermint!” Besides, Junior was dead wrong. She was equally mad at them both.
    “I’ll tell you what. I’ve been eyeing Job for some time, and your stubborn Pops won’t even hear about selling him. But seems to me, that’s your decision right now.”
    Betsy frowned. “What are you getting at?”
    “There’s no point in putting that horse down. With a little discipline, he’ll be a fine animal, and I’m willing to take him off your hands.”
    A gasp worked its way through her, and she stared wide-eyed. “And you call yourself Pops’ friend.” She spun around and walked back to Job’s stall, folded her arms, and widened her stance. “I’m not letting anyone take this horse. Why, it’d break Pops’ heart.”
    Junior nodded and smiled. “You’re likely right. The offer’ll still be there if you change your mind.”
    “Don’t count on it.”
    She lifted Job’s saddle from its stand and opened the stall. Job stomped when he saw her, likely looking for a peppermint—which as far as Betsy was concerned, he could just forget about. He had an awful lot of making up to do if he ever wanted another treat.
    “Still planning on going somewhere?”
    Junior took the saddle from her and slung it over the horse’s back.
    “This horse needs to be ridden regularly. Otherwise he gets particularly cantankerous.”
    The liveryman’s eyebrows rose. “Sure you can handle him?”
    Betsy sent him a withering look. “There’s not a horse alive I can’t handle.” Just because she didn’t care much for this horse didn’t mean she hadn’t exercised him plenty when Pops was too tired or lazy to do it. Well, not lazy, she supposed. After her talk with Doc, she realized that Pops had been sick the past two years. If he’d just told her, she wouldn’t have gotten so mad at him all the time.
    “Take it easy out there, and don’t ride him too hard. The ground’s still soft from the melting.” He cinched the saddle straps and led Job out of the stall. After a full day and a half of being cooped up, Job stamped with nervous energy. Betsy knew she’d have her hands full trying to control him. But the image of Pops lying so still and pale and broken gave her confidence she wouldn’t be taking any of Job’s business.
    Outside the barn, she held his reins with a determined grip and climbed into the saddle, adjusting her skirts for decency as she didn’t have her sidesaddle. Heaviness descended on her chest at the thought. Pops had bought her sidesaddle for her fifteenth birthday. “It ain’t decent for you to be straddling the saddle,” he’d said. Betsy nudged Job and gave him his head, despite Junior’s warning about the soft ground. Her sidesaddle, along with everything else, was likely gone. She had nothing left of her parents.
    As Job raced through town, she realized where he was heading and where she’d intended to go all along. They were going home.

Chapter Four
    S tuart held the broom tight and pressed hard on the boardwalk outside the store, sending mud flying with strong steady swipes. Ma had been complaining about the mud-tracked floor since yesterday. Better to take the time to sweep than listen to her fuss for another day. Just as he was turning to go back inside, a blur of horse and rider galloped by. He gaped as he realized Betsy was riding the horse that had thrown Old Joe. Knowing Betsy’s temper, he’d figured she’d shoot the horse or at the very least sell him to the highest bidder.
    Shaking his head, he stepped inside and set the broom against the wall, his mind remaining on the image of Betsy flying through Tucker’s Creek on that wretched horse. Where’d she think she was going?
    “Was that Betsy riding through town like a band of Indians was behind her?”
    He nodded. Frowned. “You reckon she still doesn’t know about the auction?”
    “What’s on your mind, Stuart? Are you worried that’s where she’s going?”
    The more he thought on