Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Angling her head to view the older, rotund man approaching her. “Yes sir. Robert Freeman. I was sent to get some purchases. They need some staples.”
He nodded. “Names Buchannan. You have a wagon?”
“No sir.” She scratched her upper arm through the coat. “My horse is strong and I don’t weigh a lot. I can take the flour and sugar back on him.”
“That flour is a hundred pounds and the sugar is close to forty.”
“We can do it.”
“Fine. I’ll put it on the stations account. You have to load it yourself, I can’t be bothered to help.”
“No problem, sir. Am I allowed to take from the floor here or should I go around back?”
“Back. I’ll let my boy know you’re coming.”
Touching the brim of the cowboy hat, Rebecca walked outside and saw Polaris waiting but there were two others tied up beside him. Military men and she immediately went on guard. She knew how they acquired their horses. They liked what they saw and it became an acquisition.
With a low whistle for her mount, she made her way to his ide and swiftly unwrapped the reins and walked toward the alley around back the general store and mercantile. Behind her, she heard them talking and her gut churned as their discussion swung to her mount. She wasn’t about to give him up for anything.
Or anyone.
Steps brisk as she moved through the alley to the back door of the store, she positioned him at the hitching post there and hastened to the door, pounding on it three times. A man, young and a lot like his father but with more hair on his head opened the door. Blue eyes ran over her as his lip turned up.
“One bag of flour and one of sugar.” He jerked his thumb to the left. “Don’t be touching anything else.”
“No sir.” She swallowed back the anger, but again, nothing she’d not faced before.
Just like lifting a hundred pound bag of flour wasn’t something new. Didn’t mean she enjoyed it and it definitely meant she would feel it later but she did it, under the watchful glare of the owner’s son.
Thankfully, Polaris stood for it as she flopped the hundred pound sack over the saddle followed by the sugar that set more up by his withers. A quick assessment of how best to secure it and where she would ride and she was on her way, tucked behind the cantle. His reins were long enough she had somewhat of a hold.
Tipping her hat, she pushed through town desperate to get away from the soldiers and back before dark. It wasn’t the best situation if she had to ride fast.
“Hey boy.”
She kept going, hoping they weren’t talking to her.
“Boy. I’m speaking to you.”
Two horses went in her path and she halted Polaris and looked up at a sourfaced sergeant.
“Yes sir?”
“That’s a nice horse.”
“Thank you sir.” She nudged him and he moved, not caring there were things in front of him. He would go through or around them.
“He’s strong and would make a good horse for the army.”
“He has a job, sir. One I need to be getting back to.”
The man smoothed his hand down over his black moustache and grunted. Two riders swung down and moved toward her.
“We like him.”
Ears back, Polaris crowhopped and backed away from the first man grabbing at him. She balanced the items on his back best she could.
“He’s not for sale, Sergeant.”
“Don’t right recall asking you boy if he was or not.”
Another man reached and her horse snapped at him. Good boy. He jumped back with a curse.
“Don’t much appreciate you trying to take horses from my riders.”
Cy’s deep voice wove around her bringing a sense of calm she hadn’t expected.
“And you are?” The sergeant demanded.
“Cyrus Spencer, station master at Buffalo Creek Station. This horse ain’t for sale and you need to leave the rider alone.” He rode up beside her barely cutting her a glance but the brief one singed her. “Unless you want me to take it up with Major Olson.”
The men swallowed. “You know the Major?” A hard cough. “You’re that Cyrus Spencer? Former First Lieutenant Cyrus Spencer?”
He’d been a First Lieutenant? An officer? What am I doing?
With a grin she would consider bared teeth more than anything, he nodded. “I am. Move along and don’t fucking bother my rider again.”
One of them shook his head. “Why you defending a darkie? Who cares if we take his horse?”
“Boy,” Cy growled voice down an octave. “You ain’t even earned the right to wear a stripe yet, keep your opinions to yourself. All the riders at that station are mine and I suggest you don’t forget it. They’re off limits for harassment and their rides are off limits. Don’t reckon I want to have this conversation again.” He shifted in the saddle. “Ride on, Robert.”