Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection

“Back home, what?” he asked.

“Nothing. I remember that you asked me to stop comparing Minnesota to Texas.”

Hays dipped his head to look her in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about where you grew up. Actually, I’d like nothing better.”

It seemed as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she began to tell him all about her life in Minnesota. She spoke almost nonstop from the center of Hartville all the way to the edge of the 7 Heart Ranch and the section of land Pa had promised to Hays when he married.

She spoke about her work with the Ojibwe Indians and how her parents had married at the Belle Prairie Mission when they had only known each other for a week. “My parents worked for the American Board of Commissions for Foreign Missions, and they were required to be married to serve on the mission field. My father was a hundred and fifty miles up the Mississippi serving at Red Lake, so he got into a canoe and went to Belle Prairie because he had heard there was a single female missionary there.” She laughed and Hays chuckled, imagining Reverend Longley as a young man pursuing a wife. “When he got off the canoe,” Emma continued, “he learned there wasn’t one single lady, there were four, my mother included, and they were all looking for husbands.” Her voice held a hint of awe. “Somehow my father knew she was the one, and they fell in love in seven short days. They’ve never regretted their decision once.”

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love so quickly?” Hays asked quietly.

Emma gazed out at the passing countryside and nodded. “How could I not? But I think it’s very rare.”

They were now on Hays’s property, and just over the little rise they would see his favorite place on earth: the banks of the Sabinal River. There was one place in particular he loved. It was where the tree roots were exposed along the riverbank from years of erosion and where the canopy of leaves furled out above the water to create a little sheltered haven.

Hays stopped the buggy in a clearing and took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air. He would save the best for last. “What do you miss the most about Minnesota?”

Emma sat with her hands clasped in her lap, a faraway look in her eyes. “There are so many things. I miss the dense forests that open onto tree-rimmed prairies. I miss the vibrant green in the summer and the blinding white of the winter. I miss our Ojibwe friends and our mission family.” Her voice filled with longing. “But most of all, I miss the water. The endless lakes and the rushing rivers. I miss the Mississippi, which brought my father to my mother.”

“I thought you’d say that.” Hays slapped the reins against the horses’ backs, and the buggy went into motion again. Emma had mentioned the Mississippi several times in the past few weeks, and from the first mention, he had wanted to take her to this place.

The buggy pulled up to the little rise and the Sabinal came into view. The sunlight made the water sparkle and the green leaves shimmer. It wasn’t really a river but rather a wide creek. In the summer it was often reduced to little more than a trickle, but at the moment it was running strong.

Emma inhaled and grabbed Hays’s arm.

The touch made Hays pause. He sensed she didn’t realize what she was doing, but he didn’t mind in the least.



The view mesmerized Emma. “It’s … it’s breathtaking.”

The horses followed a gentle path worn into the soil.

“I thought you’d like it,” Hays said.

His voice brought her out of her reverie, and she realized her hand was on his arm. She removed it and clutched her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“I kind of wish you’d do it again.” He chuckled and she couldn’t help but smile.

Hays pulled up to the river and stopped the horses. He climbed down from the buggy and then reached up for her. “We can stay as long as you like.”

She took his hand and climbed out of the buggy. When her feet touched the ground, she briefly closed her eyes and inhaled. “I could stay here forever.”

“Me, too.”

He let her go, and she moved toward the water. “It’s so clear.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t the Mississippi.”

Emma glanced at him. “No, but it’s perfect.”

Hays joined her at the river’s edge as she turned in a circle, inspecting the entire area. “If I were going to stay in Texas, I’d want a house right there.” She pointed to the top of the hill. “Where I could see the river every day.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

She looked back at him. “I do, very much.”

“Good, because this is my land.”

“Your land?”

“We’re on the 7 Heart Ranch. My father sectioned off a portion of the ranch for each of his sons, like a wagon wheel, with El Regalo in the center. This is my portion, closest to Hartville.” He turned her to face the little rise in the land again. “And that’s exactly where I’ve always planned to build my house.”

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