Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection



Rebekah Evans’s heart sank as the stage pulled into the small town of Hartville. What kind of mess had her trouble-prone sister gotten herself into? There were no huge buildings, much less large houses, as Austin Hart had said he lived in.

She turned to face her sister and gasped. “Jennifer Jane Evans, button up your shirtwaist this instant! And where is your hat? We’ve arrived, and you must look presentable, or Mr. Hart may send us packing.”

Jenny groaned, fanning her face with her hand. “Why is it so hot here? It’s October, for heaven’s sake. Shouldn’t it be cooler?”

“I suppose it’s because we’re so much farther south than we’re used to.” She bent down and picked up her sister’s bonnet, which had slid off Jenny’s lap onto the floor. Fortunately, her sister hadn’t stepped on it. The stage pulled to a quick stop, nearly unseating her. “Hurry now. Let me adjust your combs. It’s of the utmost importance that you present a good first impression.”

Jenny fastened the final button then sat still while Rebekah smoothed her hair and placed her bonnet on again. Jenny’s lower lip trembled. “W–what if I don’t like him? What if he … stinks? Or is horribly ugly?”

Rebekah knew her sister was nervous, but it was too late for turning back. “It didn’t sound as if he was from his letters.” She grimaced, realizing how unconvincing that sounded since letters were so easy to falsify. “The most important things are that he’s an upstanding citizen and that he can provide a good home for you.”

The stage driver opened the door and held out his hand to Rebekah. “We’ve arrived in Hartville, ma’am.”

Jenny’s hand grabbed hold of Rebekah’s arm, her fingernails digging in.

She glanced at her sister’s pale face then back at the driver. “If you don’t mind, could you please give us another minute to collect ourselves?”

The cowboy smiled and touched the brim of his hat. “Sure thing, ma’am. We’ll unload your baggage while you ladies get presentable.”

Rebekah pivoted as well as her squashed bustle allowed. “Jenny, you have to get hold of yourself. I don’t know what will happen if Mr. Hart refuses to marry you.”

Jenny crossed her arms and glared at her. “I wouldn’t even be in this fix if not for you agreeing to marry Herman Riggs.”

Her sister was partially right, but they were both near destitute and had no other options after Jenny’s indiscretion and Herman’s declaration. “I’m sorry that Herman refuses to allow you to live with us after we’re married.”

“Why do you want to marry him anyway? He’s fat and old.”

She couldn’t deny her intended was overweight, but that was because he sat all day, working as a bank clerk. “He’s not that old—thirty-six.”

“Why that’s fourteen years older than us.”

“Your Mr. Hart is only two years younger than Herman.”

Jenny pressed her hand to her stomach. “I know. That’s one thing that frightens me.”

Rebekah saw a handsome man walk past the stage, peer in, and then continue on. Her heart somersaulted, but she pulled her gaze back to her sister. “We can discuss this tonight. Right now, it’s time to meet your groom.” Providing he was waiting. She had no idea what they’d do if he wasn’t.

Jenny moaned but said no more.

If only they had other options. The war between the North and the South had taken so many good men’s lives. There were few men to choose from in their small Missouri town and so many women. She’d been fortunate that Mr. Riggs had taken an interest in her, even though he certainly wasn’t the man she’d dreamed of marrying. He could give her a home and security—and hopefully a child, and with that she’d be content. She prayed God would bless Jenny and that she and Mr. Hart would be a good match.



Austin moseyed around the front of the stage. He’d tried to get a peek at his bride, but he couldn’t make out the features of the woman he’d seen in the shadows of the coach. There was more than one person inside—he knew that much.

“Hart! Catch.” Austin looked up in time to see a satchel soaring through the air. He grabbed it and back-stepped to keep from falling, casting a scowl at the driver, Fred Chambers. The last thing he needed was to be flat on his back in the street when his bride debarked the stage. She might think he was a drinker.

Fred chuckled. “Here comes another one.”

Austin quickly set down the bag and caught the next one. “You’d better not toss those trunks. Could be something breakable.”

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