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Breanna White could never resist a dare. Today was no exception as she and her opponent waited on horseback near the train tracks at the edge of town.

She’d been sent to town because Ma wanted new fabric for the little kids, who were outgrowing their duds almost faster than she could sew them. Also at home were Pa and six out of seven of her older, adopted brothers. Breanna’d already bought the fabric and been on the boardwalk, ready to head home, when she’d been talked into this nonsense.

She could just go home. Or maybe shop for fabric for a dress for herself, something that would shock Ma completely. She should ignore the gaggle of boys nearby murmuring and laughing like geese clustered just beyond the train platform. On the edge of town, where the prairie spread out in front of them, there was less foot traffic, but someone could still see her, and everyone knew gossip traveled faster than the breeze around here. And a whole heap of passengers had just disembarked from the train, probably doubling the crowd on the platform.

Eighteen is too old for childish stunts. She could hear her brother Oscar in her head as if he’d just spoken the words. Or maybe it was Cecilia, one of Oscar’s adopted daughters and Breanna’s closest friend, who was now away at the Normal School studying to be a teacher.

But Breanna didn’t wheel her horse and ride away.

She never walked away from a race. Or a wager. Abe and Dougie and Tommy had talked their friends into parting with their hard-earned money, and the pot was up to twenty buckaroos.

Behind her on the platform, the conductor called for the last passengers to board. It was almost time.

The noise from the crowd on the platform faded away. The grass smelled sharper beneath the scents coal and steam. 

Beneath her, Buster shifted as if he felt the same anticipation she did, the same pounding of her heart in her throat.

The other racer moved, his horse stamping his feet.

She glanced to the side. Tommy was more acquaintance than friend. He’d moved to Bear Creek several months ago with his mother, who ran a dress shop, and a passel of younger sisters. He was her age, give or take a year.

“Anybody asked you to the Founder’s Day picnic yet?” Tommy asked.

Snickers broke out from her other side, where Abe and his buddies stood watching and waiting for their race. She ignored them, her heart suddenly fluttering against her breastbone.

Tommy was reasonably handsome. Not as handsome as her father. Someone had broken his nose at least once in the past, and it remained slightly crooked, but the dancing light in his eyes more than made up for that.

There was a hiss as the train’s brakes were released, and Breanna knew it was moments from pulling out of the station. She was distracted by Tommy’s invitation, but not so much that she’d lost track of the race.

The picnic.

Not one boy in town had ever asked her to go walking with him, much less to an event like the picnic.

You’re too much of a tomboy to catch a beau. That was her brother Seb’s teasing voice.

She didn’t want a beau, did she?

Still, it was nice to be asked. And if she accepted, her brothers might shut up about her future prospects.

Tommy tilted his head, his smile just a hint mysterious.

And her insides got hung up, twisting and coiling. “No one’s asked me,” she said softly.

He sidled his horse slightly closer, but he was a half-length behind her, which meant she had to crane her neck to keep looking at him. And she didn’t look away from his smile, even though she was aware that the train was leaving the station, its rumble getting louder and closer to where they waited near the tracks. There were mere seconds until the whistle—their starting gun—and she was…flirting?

Girls don’t race.

She shook away the internal whisper and turned her head more fully toward him.

“Would you—?” he started.

And then two things happened at the same time.

The train whistled.

And Buster bobbed his head, but it was too late. Breanna had been so distracted by Tommy that Dougie had snuck up to her gelding’s head and slipped the bridle over his ears.

The sixteen-year-old jumped out of the way.

The bridle hung useless beneath Buster’s chin.

And Tommy responded to the whistle by kicking his horse into a gallop, surging past her, his shirt flapping behind him.

It had been a trick. His flirting and almost-invitation had been meant to distract her while his friend handicapped her. Cheaters, the both of them.

Anger surged alongside the excitement of the race, and she nudged the gelding with her legs before she’d really thought it through. The animal responded almost as if he could read her mind.

She would beat that cheating coward, and she would beat the train, too.

The gelding’s stride lengthened as she leaned close over his back. She didn’t need reins to control the horse. She’d trained him herself, hadn’t she? She and Buster thought as one.

As they gained on Tommy and his horse, which only had a couples of strides on them, the train bore down from behind. It was a quarter mile to the winding creek flanked by scrub brush, and she had to jump the creek to win.

Tommy didn’t matter at all. He was less than nothing. She was already drawing even with him. It was the train she had to beat.

A lesser horse would’ve balked at the train’s clatter, the ground shaking beneath their feet. But not Buster.

Each beat of the gelding’s hooves was like a drumbeat inside her, her heartbeat matching the rhythm. Buster was the fastest horse in three counties. And he proved it as he outpaced Tommy’s horse.

She heard the other boy shout over the roaring of the train.

Picnic. One beat, and her thoughts crashed. She lost focus.

Was she so shallow that she’d been easily distracted by an invitation to a picnic? Not even an invitation. A hint at one.

She didn’t need a man in her life. Not one bit.

The train whistled again. At her, and at Tommy, who were probably too close to the tracks for the engineer’s liking. Too bad.

She bent closer to Buster’s neck and murmured to him, asked for more.

And he delivered. He burst forward with one more surge of speed as the train thundered up beside them.

And there was the creek.

She exhaled as they went flying over it, a trick her brother Oscar had taught her years ago. She was one with her horse. They breathed as one, jumped as one.

And they won. They’d beaten the train by inches, but it counted.

It should’ve been difficult to direct Buster without reins, but he responded to the minute change in her posture and slowed. When she applied the pressure of one leg, he turned a wide circle, now in a smooth lope that brought her back to the train yard. She let her weight settle in the saddle, and he slowed.

She didn’t wait for the horse to come to a complete stop before she kicked one leg over the saddle and slid to the ground. The momentum pushed her toward the knot of boys, and they scattered.

But not quickly enough.

She grabbed hold of Dougie’s collar and, even though he was several inches taller than she, she shook him good. “Touch my horse again, and you’ll be missing fingers.”

His face went pale even as several of the others laughed and jeered. He shoved a wad of crumpled bills into her hand, and she let him push away.

She ignored the rest of them. Twice as much Tommy when he rode back and dismounted, talking in a low voice to the other boys.

Boys. That’s what they were. Playing pranks like little children. Cheating.

What did that make her? She’d been the one unable to walk away from the bet.

She strode back to the gelding and had to pretend her hands weren’t trembling as she worked to right his bridle.

Stupid.

She wasn’t sure whether she meant the boys or herself. She blew a chunk of hair out of her too-warm face.

“I thought I’d have to do some searching to find you.”

She looked up as someone jumped from the train platform.

A man. Unfamiliar. But wait. He was wearing a sharp pair of trousers and a tailored vest. Duds like that cost a pretty penny. He tugged off his bowler hat and held it in his hand.

His blue eyes were sharp and betrayed his interest as his gaze swept over her.

She was instantly conscious of the wrinkles in her split riding skirt, the dust covering her boots, the kerchief askew at her neck, and the way her windblown hair was coming out of its braid.

Had she really considered Tommy handsome? He wasn’t, not compared to this fine specimen of a man. This was handsome.

Who was he?

And then her memories clicked into place. This was someone from a time she didn’t want to remember. Her disastrous trip to Philadelphia. She’d been fifteen and determined to meet her birth family. It hadn’t gone well.

She’d been walking through a fancy Philly park with Cecilia when she’d inserted herself into a horse race against him. Though back then, he’d been three years younger and not so… intimidating.

Adam Cartwright.

“That was a fine display of riding.” His words were complimentary, but his gaze was so intense that she couldn’t hold it. Was he being sincere? Girls don’t race. Her pride was already in tatters at Tommy’s humiliation.

“Thank you.” Her mind raced faster than Buster had moments ago. She was aware of the town boys still clustered nearby. Who else was watching from the train platform or one of the storefronts nearby?

Flustered and suddenly hot, she bent and grabbed the brown-wrapped packages for Ma that she’d stashed near the platform. She began to tie them off behind the gelding’s saddle. She didn’t want Adam Cartwright to know how he was making her feel. She didn’t even really know herself.

Her discomfort made her voice cool. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to meet the illustrious White family.”

She fumbled and dropped one of the parcels.

He knelt in the dirt in his fancy duds, scooped it up, and offered it to her with a hint of a smile, as if he knew something she didn’t.

And that made her temper spark.

Adam had been subject to his mother’s matchmaking machinations for long enough to recognize the spark of attraction that Breanna White was too fresh-faced to hide.

With the flush across her cheeks and wisps of blond hair escaping her braid, she was just as pretty as he remembered. Maybe more. Her reaction to him made him want to grin, but he knew that would be a mistake.

“He’s remarkable.” He nodded to the buckskin as he handed her the package.

He’d been glancing around from the train platform, his writer’s nose itching to jot a sketch of the small town with its mix of clapboard and brick storefronts, when he’d seen her on horseback with another young man.

He’d noticed the teen boy sneaking up to her horse. He’d tried to shout a warning but the train whistle blew and cut off his voice.

And she’d been off like a shot.

Riding without the use of the reins was a trick itself. Not many riders would trust a horse without reins at that speed. But then he knew she was remarkable. Even more so than the horse, which didn’t actually look like much.

“He is. I trained him myself.”

She went back to securing her packages behind the horse’s saddle.

Adam was aware of the group of teen boys nearby and the curious looks he was getting. After the threat she’d delivered to the one who’d slipped off her bridle, he saw no competition there. But the question remained: did she have a beau? Or a husband, even?

“Where’d you get him?” Adam asked.

She frowned a little at the knot she was tying. Or maybe at him?

“My brother raises horses. Trains them. From the moment Buster was born, I knew.” Buster. Somehow, the name fit.

When he’d met her in Philadelphia, she’d made claims about her horse sense. Apparently, she hadn’t exaggerated.

She finished with her knot and put her hands on her hips. “Why are you really here?”

For a moment, his thoughts flitted to Father, to Reggie, who was trapped in darkness. He forced them out on a breath and leaned against the platform, waited until her gaze flitted over him and away again. “I told you. I came for you. I can’t seem to forget you.”

It was the bald truth. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. Or he should’ve waited until he had more information.

But with her hair slipping from its braid and her eyes still a little wild from the race, he was more intrigued than ever. Good thing it was his job to dig up information.

“You’re not married, are you?” he asked. “Engaged?”

She sent a glance past him to the boys still nearby. Then her chin came up, and she shook her head slightly. The flush that had been confined to her cheeks now spread down her neck. “I have no wish to return to Philadelphia. None in the least.”

Maybe not, but minds could be changed. She was attracted to him. He knew it.

And he wasn’t one to back down. Not when it was this important. “Can I call on you tonight?”

She was not unaffected. He could see the shifting thoughts in her eyes. And then her lips spread in an unexpected grin.

“I have seven older brothers. You’d better wait until Sunday service tomorrow, so there’ll be witnesses.”

She quickly stepped into the saddle and rode away without a goodbye. He was left standing there looking after her.

There was no doubt that his decision to come all this way had been the right one. He’d left Philadelphia with a mission. If she was unattached, he intended to bring Breanna home as his wife.

And he’d brought a secret weapon with him, one he knew she couldn’t resist.

He almost started whistling as he made his way around the train platform to climb the steps and retrieve the bag he’d left behind. There had to be a boarding house or maybe even a small hotel in a town this size.

He stopped short of the boardwalk as something she’d said penetrated his skull.

Seven older brothers?