The Vicky Series: Book 1: Chasing a Dream

Chapter 17

Annabelle knew they must have looked through the keyhole or listened at the door. She thought briefly that it was a shame women could not work at a newspaper. All that information coming and going would certainly be exciting.

"I much regret I am too late then. Oh well. I shall see if I can at least offer consolation. Does anyone know where they went?"

"No Miss. He just said it was somewhere they could talk."

"Said that as he left."

"Thank you all, ever so much." She smiled tearfully at them and sulked out quietly. She waited until she was in her surrey bouncing toward the station before she began to smile again. As she rode she digested her newest information. This was a very worthwhile trip.

***

Vic felt her sides would split. Getting on that horse without crying out was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Her eyes welled up and spilled over leaving streaks down her dusty swollen face. Thankfully Jebb walked the horses at a very slow lope.

Even then, each bounce sent pain screaming through every nerve in her body. She saw white streaks of lightning every time she closed her eyes. It hurt to breathe deeply so she tried not to gasp too often. She tried leaning forward on the horse's neck, but the saddle horn jabbed into her middle.

This must be how it feels to be the one on the barbeque spit.

While she was sure they could walk faster than they rode now, she knew she wouldn't be moving at all if it weren't for the horse carrying her. She had managed to stagger her way to the riverfront and sat on a box to make the crossing. Although Jebb moved the wagonload of goods at a crawl, she felt bounced like a baby on a knee.

Only an occasional moan escaped her lips before she had been aware of it. She sat silent, enduring the searing pain, fighting back the blackness that seemed so welcoming. She was a young man now, and men didn't carry on about aches and pains, especially in public. Jebb kept a watchful eye on her—proud and concerned.

She sent her wires and purchased the roan she rode as well as the saddle and two repeat-fire weapons. The six-shooter on her hip felt like a lead weight. The new breech-loading rifle that hung from the saddle felt equally as foreign.

Jebb had sworn by the guns. They were, in his humble opinion, the most reliable and certain to fire weapons he'd ever used. And he'd added with a smile he'd used 'a might many weapons during his years'.

Vic listened as Jebb explained the ins and outs of a good weapon, the benefits of a repeat rapid-fire rifle, and the way it could tip the scale in your favor in a pinch. She listened as he'd given her careful tips and instructions on buying a good horse.

He'd explained the various uses for a horse and which breed would best suit the need. If her brain wasn't so swollen, she was sure she would've retained more of the lessons. If her head didn't throb every time she moved, she was certain she could've paid better attention.

If she could stay conscious long enough to make it to Jebb's, she'd go immediately to bed. However, she determined to commit the lessons to her journal as soon as she got her senses back. That way she could pour over them and commit them to memory more completely. If Jebb was going to impart his life's experience to her, she was going to learn it well.

They'd ridden in silence for ten long grueling miles. She refused to say a word. She was having trouble staying in the saddle though, and that worried her. It was a long way down to the ground. She twisted a little when she looked forward again. She winced, sucking air through her clenched teeth.