Ash’s now. Even a country mouse like me understood that paperwork wasn’t brought out in a private club. Business cards weren’t exchanged let alo...e contracts signed.And, there were several sheets requiring my JoAnna Hancock on my personal Declaration of ... what? Not Independence. Maybe Codependence.I merely glanced through the paperwork; Gertie would not be pleased. But I wanted to be in this, be in as far as I could be. The Gunthers had tried to kill my family, tried to kill me.Ash said, “We. The blood-red mare looked like she would be at home on the sands of Arabia, and belonged to Sissy. The black was big for a wild horse, and looked to have some draft-horse ancestor. He’d been gelded before we got him, and was as calm as Gracie. When I rode, it was on him. I’d gotten a little better, and it didn’t bother me as much as it used to.Horace was an Irishman, a retired racehorse groom. He’d come to America to see his daughter and never left. Henry had inquired around when we told him we. More

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