Enough of this unproductive self-pity. If life had taught her anything it was that she could take care of herself. Tossing her worn clothing into the brown paper, she tied it up and left the room. There was only one thing left to do.
At the stage office she booked passage on the next stage to Spring Town. In her present frame of mind, facing her father would be easy. She would tell him what she thought of him and demand that he let the twins go with her. How could she have fallen in love with Bordeaux, knowing how unfaithful men could be? Was she a complete fool?