Our Wild Bride (Treasure Falls Brides 3)

CHAPTER2

Blanche had never done anything as hard as what she was about to do. First, choosing what to take and what to sell had been difficult. Getting rid of the cattle, the horses, and even the dog she’d had since she was twelve. How could she go off and leave him, and yet, she knew taking him was not an option.

A kid who lived on the farmland next to theirs had agreed to take him in. Tonight, she was planning on holding him until it was time to say good-bye. And even then, she knew it would be the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

“Come on, Rusty, we have things to do,” she said, walking out to the barn. The stalls were empty. She’d even given away the barn cat, Misty.

Glancing around, she looked at the place where she’d learned to ride. Where she’d watched her first colt come into this world. There were so many memories.

With a sigh, she poured lantern fluid around the empty old building. It was midnight and she hoped no one was awake at this hour. Tears flooded her eyes and she almost couldn’t do it. If they had not cheated her father out of the farm, she would never have done this, but cheaters deserved what she was about to do.

Striking a match, she dropped the flame onto the kerosene and with a poof, the flame took off. The leftover hay in the loft sizzled as it caught fire. Mr. Jones was not going to get much.

Stepping back, she watched the old barn go up in flames. The heat from the blaze was intense as she watched it burn.

A pile of furniture lay in the yard. Things she had been unable to sell. Quickly, before she changed her mind, she set fire to things she’d grown up with. Her old doll bed. The toys she’d hoped to hand down to her children. The family items she could not take.

Turning, she walked over to the house and gazed up at the old structure. Home.

No matter what, she couldn’t do it. This was the place she’d grown up, and even though she hated Mr. Jones, it would always be her home.

One more night and then it would no longer be hers.

Stepping inside, she leaned down and rubbed Rusty behind the ears. Sinking down onto the floor, she leaned back against the wall. Everything was gone. The house was empty.

The sale had netted her over two thousand dollars. The only thing left on the land was the house.

“You know I’d take you with me if I could,” she said, pulling the dog into her lap. “But I can’t. So Elton Smith is going to take good care of you. He promised me he would give you a happy home.”

The dog licked her hand and snuggled up against her. He’d been with her through her father’s death, the announcement she’d lost the house and land, through everything but her mother’s leaving.

Her heart was heavy, and yet she knew that tonight she could not sleep. This was the last night in her home, the last night with her dog. The last night before her life started anew.

When the sky began to turn pink, she took Rusty outside, and sitting together on the old house’s porch, they watched as the sun rose. One last sunrise together.

She loaded her carpet bag onto the last horse, which she would sell once she got to town. The buyer would be there waiting for her. In her men’s clothing, she climbed up and began to ride away.

“Come on, Rusty,” she said her voice breaking. “It’s time to go.”

The old dog followed her one last time.

Nothing would ever be the same and she knew she would never ever let a man be in charge of her destiny again.

Even if he was her husband.