Nance had been amazing. Or “a real bottler” as Martin had said as he’d given the housekeeper a hug when she’d told them she’d packed the saddle bags with food.
Colin had confessed his concern the horse would throw them off.
Nance had laughed, and thanks to the medicine the doctor had put her on the resultant cough hadn’t been as severe. “Dottie’s the gentlest ole nag I’ve ever seen, so no worries about her chucking you off.”
Martin had then expressed his concern that they’d get lost, but Nance had assured him Dottie knew every square metre of the station and all they had to tell her was “go home, girl,” and she’d take them.
The ride to their picnic spot had been slow and gentle. Dottie’s gait was sure and steady, if not overly smooth. Martin had sat behind Colin and hadn’t needed telli
