Hallie's Hero. Nicole FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter One

      Paradise, Arizona Territory, 1876

      It couldn’t be gone. Hallie Ryan gripped the battered metal box in her hands, closed her eyes and took a deep breath to fight off the surge of panic. But when she looked again nothing had changed. More than half the money she’d so carefully hoarded all these months was missing.

      She realized right then who had taken it. Only Ben would leave part of her money, thinking he’d sweeten her temper by not stealing it all. And Ben would do it even though he knew she’d been scraping together every penny, selling practically all she owned of value, to buy back Eden’s Canyon before the bank sold their ranch to the first buyer who came along.

      The only reason they were still living in the house was because she’d choked down her pride and begged Mr. Parsons to let them stay until the bank could find a buyer, giving her a last chance to beg, steal or borrow enough money before they lost everything.

      Hallie welcomed the sudden anger flaring up inside her. For the moment, anyway, it pushed away the sick feeling twisting her stomach, and gave her the prod she needed to do something besides curse and cry. Shoving the box back into her wooden chest, she grabbed up her hat and headed for the barn.

      She couldn’t remember when she’d been madder at Ben, although her little brother had given her plenty of opportunities in the last year. He was always promising he’d finish one chore or another, always swearing he’d start taking on his share of the responsibilities. But then he’d sneak off to one of the saloons in town to gamble and guzzle a bottle of whiskey or two.

      This time, though, he’d gone too far.

      Yanking open the barn door, intent on getting to town and confronting Ben, Hallie nearly tripped over Tenfoot Jones on his way out.

      “Whoa, there,” Tenfoot said, holding up his hands and stepping back as Hallie stalked into the barn. He pulled a faded bandanna from around his neck and rubbed it over his weathered face and under his braid of iron-gray hair as he watched her drag out the rigging for the wagon. “You’re lookin’ as mad as a peeled rattler, Hal. What’s young Ben done now?”

      “Nothing a few years locked in the barn won’t fix.”

      “Meanin’ he’s in town puttin’ his money into someone else’s pocket again.”

      “No, this time he’s putting my money in someone else’s pocket,” Hallie said, as she led the piebald gelding out of his stall and started hitching him to the wagon. She didn’t tell Tenfoot what money Ben had taken. Like everyone else who lived and worked on the ranch, the cowboy was already worried enough about where they’d be bedding down next month. “I aim to stop him if I have to hog-tie him and drag him home behind the wagon to do it.”

      Tenfoot snorted and shook his head. “That boy’s wilder than a barn rat. Always has been. Be the best thing for everybody if you left him where he is, and let him learn about livin’