Nissa (The Widows of Wildcat Ridge Book 3) by Zina Abbott

Author:Zina Abbott [Abbott, Zina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

N

issa had the children fed and encouraged them to play where she could see them. Her first batch of towels and sheets from the hotel soaked in her wash tub while her copper pot filled almost to the brim with heated water for the boiling rinse. In response to Dallin’s suggestion the previous night, she had added one of Jamie’s play shirts to the load.

A sound she did not recognize had her running to the middle of the yard to check on Jamie’s and Molly’s safety. The noise had also attracted their attention. Jamie, wide-eyed, now barreled towards the opening to Front Street with Molly, her arms pumping, running to keep up with him.

Nissa raced to intercept the two and grabbed each of them by the hand to prevent them from running into the street to see what caused the ruckus. By now, she knew it was the sound of trotting horses—lots of them. A child on either side of her, Nissa stood where she hoped the walls of the hotel and her laundry shack would prevent any horses from bolting from the herd across the boardwalk and into the yard, plowing them under in the process. She stepped back from the excited animals and coughed as the clouds of dust they raised enveloped her.

“Get back!” One of the men working the herd called out to her, focusing Nissa’s attention on the reality of the danger the horses posed to her and her children, should one come towards them. Molly, evidently frightened by the size of the animals, already tugged on Nissa’s hand to return to the safety of the yard. Jamie stubbornly resisted being guided away from the spectacle.

Only when Jamie realized the horses had been turned at the corner of their property onto Chestnut did he jerk his hand free of hers and race to the waist-high fence that bordered the boardwalk. Nissa turned to follow, not trusting her son to stay inside the yard.

“Jamie, stay several feet behind the fence. If you get too close, you might spook a horse and he’ll run towards you.”

Once again, Nissa held both her children by the hand as the last of the horses passed their place and continued to the corral on the far side of the livery. She glanced at the yard behind her. As exciting as the event had been, she offered a prayer of gratitude that she did not have clothes hanging to dry on the lines yet. With all the dust the horses raised, if it had hit damp cloth, the only way she could get the fabric clean was to wash everything again before the dirt set in.

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Later that afternoon, the sun poured into the westward facing doorway and illuminated the table Nissa had positioned to catch the best light. She had already finished pressing the sheets—she preferred to get the heavier pieces to be ironed out of the way first—and now finished up on the last of the linen cloths hotel patrons used for personal bathing in their rooms.

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