Surrender a Dream by Jill Barnett

Author:Jill Barnett [Barnett, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780671723415
Google: GbaQYzcvYnoC
Amazon: 0671723413
Barnesnoble: 0671723413
Goodreads: 520532
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1991-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Addie stood on the pedals and pushed down as hard as she could. The cycle's wheels moved like molasses through a muddy, low section of the road. Her tow cart hit a rock and the metal milk cans clanged together. The bike wobbled and she tried to pedal forward. Her legs weren't strong enough. With a squishy oosh, her feet sank into the warm mud. She grimaced. My six-dollar, hand-turned, Dongola kid shoes! The damp mud oozed through the common-sense buttons. Dadgummit!

She peeled open her eyes. The mud christened her shoes ankle high. She popped one foot out of the mud, examining it. It looked like she'd stood in a fudge vat. She shook it and a few clumps of brown, sticky gunk flew off with a plop. The stuff was all over the hem of her skirt too. She gave up. She sank her foot into the soft, wet ground and, with both gloved hands gripping the handlebars, trudged the bike and cart up the small grade.

The morning sun glowed down, making her wish she'd left for town later in the day. Then the sun would have had a chance to dry the few muddy patches left on the road. But she'd left bright and early, thinking the cooler air boded better for the milk she carted behind her. She glanced back to check on the milk cans, but her gaze caught a distant wagon on the road, heading her way. Good, she thought, a friendly California neighbor who would no doubt assist a distressed lady into town. The wagon neared and she could hear the jangle of the harness.

Addie released the handlebars, steadying the bicycle between her calves, and she tucked up a few loose strands of damp hair under the crisp Milan straw of her Carmen hat. Then she grabbed the short brim, tugging the hat down twice. She patted the trim of silk hyacinths and cardinal-colored velvet ribbon that cascaded from one side of the hat. With a welcoming smile she turned back to face her fellow traveler.

It was the gruesome twosome—the toad and his bucking horse. She groaned, cursing her luck.

He pulled the wagon to a stop, the horse exactly even with her cycle. "Well, well, Jericho, look who we have here. It's Little Miss Pinky… and her big brain." He smiled, although Addie thought of it more, as a baring of teeth.

"Hit a little mud, huh?" He enjoyed this, she could see it written all over his face.

She didn't say one word. She gripped the handlebars, pretending they were his neck. With her hands strained tight, she shoved the cycle forward. It moved in inches.

"Not speaking? Tch-tch-tch, that's a shame. Isn't it, Jericho, old boy?"

Addie gave the horse a furtive look. His pink lips wiggled up. She could have sworn the horse grinned.

His owner rested his elbows on his knees and kept talking. "You know what? I would have thought anyone with so much 'common sense' would have known that you can't ride one of those contraptions in the mud.

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