Free Pony Express Courtship by Rhonda Gibson

Besides, who would I sell them to?” Rebecca doubted she could sell them at the general store and she didn’t want to deal with Mr. Edwards to try.
    He sat forward. “I’m glad you asked. Part of the reason I’m here today is to tell you that we’d like to use your farm as a stagecoach stop as well as a Pony Express home station.” The older man stopped speaking and let his words sink in.
    Rebecca looked to Seth, who simply shrugged his shoulders. She turned her attention back to Mr. Bromley and asked, “Do you need my permission to have it stop here?” She wasn’t sure if having her home become the stagecoach stop was a good idea. How would it affect the boys?
    â€œSince the farm belongs to you, yes. We’ve discovered that the stage riders need a break and your place is in the middle of the two stops it already makes,” he explained.
    Rebecca nodded. She knew the stage passed about a mile away from the house. It made sense that if they were going to add an additional stop they make it at her farm. She hesitated, though. Would the benefits of allowing it to stop here outweigh the drawbacks?
    â€œIf you wanted to sell refreshments to the passengers, we would have no problem with that and I’m sure they would be most appreciative,” he added, as if trying to persuade her to allow it. “The stop would only be for about thirty minutes—enough time to allow the tired travelers to stretch their legs, and the coach driver time to water and rest the horses before pressing on.”
    Rebecca picked up a cookie and nibbled its crispy edge. If she could sell food to the travelers it would mean a little extra income. It would also mean she could have supplies delivered right to her front door, not to mention get to see people more often. She liked the thought of that. Even with all the kids it became very lonesome during the winter when they didn’t go to town but once every few months. “How often would it pass through?”
    â€œA couple of times a week. I’ll be able to give you a schedule as soon as I have your permission to use the farm,” he answered, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper.
    Deciding to give it a try, Rebecca asked, “The refreshments wouldn’t need to be large meals, would they?”
    â€œNo, something simple, like these cookies or a sandwich.” He unfolded the paper and studied it. “It looks like the stage would run on Mondays from east to west and Thursdays from west to east—they should both arrive around ten thirty in the morning.” Mr. Bromley looked up at her. “So what do you think? Can we make this a regular stop?”
    Rebecca nodded. “I think that will be fine as long as the stage rider will take care of his horses himself.”
    â€œThat he will, Mrs. Young.” Mr. Bromley finished his coffee and stood. “Thank you for the cookies and coffee. Now I need to be on my way.” He pulled his hat back on his head and walked to the door.
    Rebecca followed him. “When will the stage start stopping here?” she asked as her mind began to do a mental inventory of her supplies.
    â€œWe’ll need to check the route, make sure there are no ruts or trees down. Plan for next Monday to be the first time it stops.” He smiled at her. “Thank you for agreeing.”
    She returned his smile. “You’re welcome.”
    The driver of the stage hurried to open the door for the businessman. Mr. Bromley dashed out into the rain and Seth ran toward the bunkhouse, where the rest of the boys waited. The stage pulled away and Seth disappeared into the bunkhouse. Disappointment ate at her. She would have liked to talk to him about her new business venture. When had she started thinking of Seth as a sounding board? He’d only been there a week and she realized she’d begun to look forward to their chats in the evening. That was only natural,