Immigrating From Illinois (The Pioneer Brides of Rattlesnake Ridge #9) by Nan O'Berry

Author:Nan O'Berry [O'Berry, Nan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Sweet Promise Press
Published: 2021-06-10T21:00:00+00:00

THANK goodness for the full moon. The silver light guided Jericho’s steps as he rode back down to Rattlesnake Ridge.

The hour had grown late and most of the population was already asleep.

“Just where I’d like to be,” Jericho whispered and punctuated his statement with a yawn. Pulling his weary horse to a stop in front of the livery, he dismounted and pulled the reins from the horse’s neck. “I bet you’d like a good bucket of oats, right Ricochet?”

The horse nickered in agreement.

Jericho reached out to put his hand on the barn door and found it moving toward his hand.

“Oh, hey there, Jericho,” Hank Crumpler greeted him as he pulled the door wide. “I was about to lock up and head for home. Glad I waited.”

“Me too.” He made a click with his tongue and with a gentle tug on the leather, the horse followed him into the barn.

“I’ll go and get his oats, Jericho. You just unsaddle him and put him in the box stall. I got it all nice and clean today.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

The liveryman disappeared.

Jericho led his horse into the stall. Door closed, he flipped the stirrup up and undid the girth.

“Here ya go.”

The soft spill of oats into the trough brought Ricochet’s ears to attention.

“Let me get this off you first,” Jericho gently scolded the animal. Grabbing the blanket and saddle, he lifted his equipment from the animal’s back and set it over on the rail of the stall. Moving to the head, he loosened the throat latch and pulled the bridle off. Stepping back, he watched as the horse moved to the trough.

“You been up on the mountain today?”

Jericho paused and glanced over at Hank. “One of the places I went,” he replied.

Hank nodded. “It’s a nice place to ride in the summer. Just don’t get caught up there in the winter. The winds can turn on you mighty fast.”

“So, I hear.” Jericho reached over the rails and pointed to the bucket. “Hand me a brush.”

Hank bent over and pulled a brush from inside.

“Thanks.” Jericho slipped the piece of leather over his hand and began to run the brush over Ricochet’s coat.

“I hear there’s gonna be a nice party over at Miss May’s.”

“Uh-huh.” Jericho continued to work.

“One of your stops over at Charlie Rankin’s. Maybe you got your bid in for a dance with Charlie’s granddaughter.”

Jericho’s lips twitched but he didn’t respond.

“She’s a looker, but you know that. You rode back with her and Charlie, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Jericho continued to move down the horse’s body.

“I’ll go put this saddle away for you.”

“Thanks, Hank.” He heard the grunt as the man picked up the saddle and moved away. Crossing under the horse’s neck, Jericho moved to the other side and began to repeat the process.

Sterling was a looker as Hank mentioned. In fact, he could still feel the warmth of her lips on his and the faint scent of pine from the mountain. He had indeed saved himself a dance. The thought of having her in his arms and swirling her around sent a shiver of excitement up his spine.

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