She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. The blue jaws suggested courage and tenacity. Not like my father. “Very likely,” he answered. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. “His back was towards me,” Anna said.
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