Free West (History Interrupted Book 1) by Lizzy Ford

better for them that way.”
    “Hmmm. Maybe.” I want to know what happened to her. An image popped into Nell’s head. “You blamed … my cousin Philip.”
    The memories began to flow again, this time of the blond man with a beard and cold eyes. “Don’t you repeat that to no one, Miss Josie. He has been after your father’s money since before you were born,” Nell said. “Your father spoilt him, too, the son he never had, but he left all his money to you.” The gravity on her features faded. “But, you have returned. There is nothing Philip can do. You are better served finding a husband soon, my child, even so.”
    “John … Father said the same,” I said, amused. “I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself.”
    “It is not fashionable for a woman to speak her mind as you do, and a woman’s right to land is not always recognized in the uncivilized new world.”
    I rolled my eyes and gazed at our surroundings. We were quiet the rest of the way to town. Uncertain what to expect, I was surprised by how busy the tiny town I had seen the other night was by daylight.
    “Every landowner and his son is here,” Nell said, anger in her voice. “They heard you were back. Each of them greedier than the last! No daughter of John is going to sully her hands by wedding any of them.”
    “Whoa,” I said with a laugh. “You’re cute, like an angry grandma. I can take care of myself.”
    “That frightens me more.” Nell eyed the men in town as we entered.
    “My god – a real, live stagecoach!” I stared at the lumbering mode of transportation that was popular in the West. It was pulled by a team of four horses with two men seated on the driver’s box. It appeared worn, the wooden carriage dusty and the spokes of large wheels flecked with mud.
    “A woman of your station travels by train,” Nell said with some disdain.
    Not far from an inn where two stagecoaches were parked was a raised platform with a noose dangling from a center beam. I had never seen a real live gallows before. “Do they hang people here?”
    “Yes, Miss Josie, they do for infractions of violence. We are one of the only frontier towns that’s peaceful, for which we can thank the half-breed Sheriff.”
    The same sheriff that wanted a word with me. The sight of the noose gave me the creeps, and the warning about who issued hangings didn’t help. “How often does he hang people?” I asked.
    “Every Saturday at noon.”
    My mouth dropped open. “So often?”
    “The sheriff is serious about his duty. He hangs white men, black men and red men, even a woman who killed her husband.”
    “Wow.”
    Nell nodded seriously. “Your father no longer attends the hangings, but most of the town does. The saloons offer free beer that day.”
    Never expected a hanging to be an excuse for a party. “So there’s a trial, right? It’s not just one man deciding to hang people?”
    “There are always trials and appeals, unless the crime has enough witnesses or was too terrible to await a trial. The sheriff hangs every man involved in a scuffle with the Indians, red, white, slave or mixed. No trial.”
    Any thought I had about wanting to see the sexy sheriff was gone. Instead, my mind turned to ensuring we never crossed paths again.
    “We are to find you a new bauble or jewels or finery for a dinner this evening. Your father insists,” Nell said cheerfully.
    From gallows to jewelry. It was all in a normal day here. I shook my head. “I didn’t bring any money,” I said.
    “He gave me your purse. Find what you like, and we will get it. There is nothing here you cannot buy.”
    “How much did he send?”
    “One hundred dollars.” Nell whispered the amount then looked around to make sure no one else overheard.
    “Is that a lot?” I asked in the same tone.
    “Child, please! It is more than most of these men will make in a year!”
    “Wow,” I murmured. “Can my father afford this?”
    “Of course. It’s pocket change to him.”
    I should