Twenty-SevenThe town was much as he remembered it. People scurried around, suffering from the heat, especially the women in their bonnets and trailing skirts. Easing in the reins and guiding the team towards the livery stable, Dixon kept his eyes straight head, conscious some townsfolk might recognise him.
Beside him, Constance shook her head. “This is not what I expected. “
“Oh? And what were you expecting? Streets paved with gold?”
She snapped her head towards him. “Mr. Dixon, you are uncouth. I was merely expressing my disappointment. This is nothing like the towns we were told about out east.”
“Well, they sell you their stories, Connie, to get you out here. You must have paid good money for the information.”
“Mr. Morris would have done all that. We saw the hoardings, studied the r
