Free Badlanders by David Robbins

Isolda said. “I can’t wait to unpack and settle in.”
    â€œI’ve brought a buckboard, ma’am,” Neal Bonner said. “For your travelin’ bags and such. And you and your sister can sit on the seat with the driver.”
    Isolda couldn’t think of anything less appealing than riding on a hard seat hours on end.
    â€œWhat about me, Mr. Bonner?” Alexander asked.
    â€œI brought a horse.”
    â€œYou assumed I’d ride out to the ranch?”
    â€œYou don’t want to, Mr. Jessup?” Neal said.
    â€œI’d rather not, no. The longest I’ve ever been on horseback in my entire life was for an hour or so, and that was years ago. Is there any chance we can rent a carriage at the livery?”
    â€œAfraid not,” Neal said. “They only have horses to rent.”
    â€œWell, that won’t do. One of my first orders ofbusiness will be to acquire a carriage for the Diamond B to convey my daughters and me back and forth when necessary, and guests when we have them.”
    â€œThere were a few ranches down to Texas that had their own carriages,” Neal said. “I reckon I should have thought of that. A buckboard makes for a rough ride for those not used to it.”
    â€œI’ll ride in the back,” Alexander said. “We can fold a blanket for me to sit on. It shouldn’t be too bad.”
    â€œI have a better idea, Father,” Edana said. “Why don’t you ride on the seat with Isolda and the driver, and I’ll go horseback?”
    â€œI don’t mind roughing it, daughter.”
    â€œI’m sure you don’t,” Edana said. “But I like riding, as you well know. I made it a point to ride at least once a week at Macedonia.”
    â€œYes, you did,” Alexander said. “You’ve always liked horses more than your sister does.”
    â€œI can’t stand the stink,” Isolda said.
    Neal Bonner sat back as if she’d slapped him. “Of a
horse
?”
    â€œHorses have an odor, just like everything else.”
    â€œBut—” Neal stopped.
    â€œWhy do you look so flabbergasted?”
    â€œA hog or a pig I could savvy. A chicken coop will stink to high heaven if it’s not aired out. Even a dog will smell when it’s been runnin’ or when it’s wet. But a horse has the pleasantest scent this side of a woman.”
    â€œOh, really?” Isolda said, and was tickled when he blushed again.
    Edana came to Neal’s defense. “I happen to agree with him. I like how a horse smells. It’s not rank or musty but rather pleasant.”
    â€œThank you, ma’am,” Neal said.
    â€œWhat are you thanking her for?” Isolda asked. “You’re not a horse.”
    Alexander cleared his throat. “I flatter myself that I understand. He’s a horseman of the plains, after all, andI’ve heard that cowboys become quite attached to their animals.”
    â€œI’d rather be attached to a person,” Isolda said, “so long as he doesn’t stink.” She laughed merrily.
    Isolda had ordered pot pie, and had to admit it was delicious. The pieces of chicken were well done, the gravy was buttery, and the carrots and peas weren’t undercooked.
    But she only picked at it, thinking of Beaumont Adams, until her father caught her off guard.
    â€œYou’re not eating much, Isolda. Don’t you like the food? This was your idea, after all.”
    â€œApparently I wasn’t as hungry as I thought,” Isolda said, justifying her disinterest. “Do we have to leave as soon as we’re done? I was hoping we’d take a stroll around the town.” And perhaps she’d run into the gambler again.
    â€œI’d rather we didn’t delay our departure. I want to reach the ranch well before dark, if we can.” Alexander turned to Neal. “Is that possible?”
    â€œIf we leave soon it is.”
    â€œI’m