Free Tumbleweed by Heather Huffman

sweetie,” I assured him. “We'll do something. Let's get back and put our heads together to see what we can come up with.”
    Our much subdued little group made its way back to the ranch. Once the horses were back in their stalls, we decided that what the day needed was a pizza. It just so happened that the next town over had a pizza parlor on the town square so we all piled into Ethan's truck and headed towards Seymour.
    No matter how many times we made it over that way, Aaron and I could never seem to get over the fact that Seymour actually had hitching posts to accommodate the high Amish population. We never tired of watching the fuzzy bay trotters pulling the open buggies at a merry little clip.
    Sitting around a few hot pizzas and cheese fries, the world seemed a little less disturbing. I couldn't seem to shake the guilt that poor little Allie couldn't just walk away from the problem.
    “Hey Aaron, I've got the cutest little quarter horse mare over at my place,” David attempted to lighten the mood. “Used her in a couple of rodeos this past summer. She did real well. That horse is bomb proof, man; you'd never know she's only three. You should come see her sometime.”
    “Bomb proof?” Aaron looked skeptical.
    “That means she doesn't startle. She's really well trained,” I leaned over and whispered.
    “Maybe when you're ready for your own horse, your mama'll buy you this little mare. I'd give her to ya' real cheap and even throw in the saddle,” he offered.
    “She is a darling little mare. Sorrel colored, Doc Bar pedigree. I hate to get rid of her, but we've got to thin our herd a bit,” Cheyenne interjected.
    “Maybe we can come look at her soon,” I nodded. Doc Bar was a really well-known quarter horse. There were a few names that showed up in any well-bred quarter horse's pedigree. That was one of them.
    While I preferred more unusually colored horses, there was something about a good-old red pony with white socks and a white face that Aaron seemed to be drawn to. And if we were going to stay, Aaron would need a decent horse of his own.
    Not having any rent to speak of and miniscule heating bills meant I was finally starting to get a handle on some of the medical bills that had been looming over my head. It's amazing what a tonsillectomy and crappy insurance will do to your credit. Throw in a broken bone and some prescription allergy medicine, and you can kiss any hope of seeing the light of day goodbye.
    But things were starting to look up now, so maybe I could swing a horse of our own. Aaron instantly picked up on the “Mom is leaning towards yes” vibe and lit up.
    “I know the one you mean. She is a good little horse,” Ethan chimed in, which sealed the deal for me. I trusted him completely. That realization startled me a bit, and I tucked it away to ponder later.
    “Maybe sometime next week,” I ventured.
    “Sounds good. You know where to find us,” David nodded. The mood had been officially lightened, and conversation flowed freelyfrom there. After dinner we all went our separate ways, Aaron and I nearly crawling home to shower and put on our PJs. I just about had a decent fire going when there was a sharp knock.
    “It's Deputy Carson,” a deep but young voice called from the other side of the door.
    “Oh. Okay. Coming,” I frowned. It was just me and Aaron in a cabin that was feeling more remote by the moment, and I was in my pajamas for crying out loud. I looped my fingers around Blue's collar and drug him with me to answer the door, determined to get myself a German Shepherd the very next day.
    “Good evening, ma'am.” He tipped his hat at me.
    “Good evening,” I eyed the clock on the mantle. Evening, my behind. It was 10:00 at night. That might as well be 1:00 a.m. in these parts, where the days began early.
    “I wanted to let you know that there appears to be a bit of a fuss going on over that horse of Hobbes'. He got into an altercation with a member of city hall earlier