“She belonged to my sister, but she gave her to me when she moved to Shadhurst late last year. She didn’t want the expense of keeping a horse in a city,” the young man said.
“Should have stayed here,” the woman muttered. “Nothing good ever came of going to the city.”
“Mum.” The young man gave the woman a pointed look.
“Well, it doesn’t.” The woman wandered back inside the farmhouse.
“Were you interested in the cart, or only the horse and tack?” the young man asked.
“What were you wanting for the horse and tack?” Brodie asked.
“Eighty gold pieces,” the young man said. “She’s only six-years-old and a large, sturdy horse capable of pulling a carriage or wagon. My sister was sad to leave her behind.”
“Eighty?” Brodie demanded. “How about sixty?”
“Sixty!” the young man exclaimed. “That
