He surveyed the bustling town of Hartville, named after his grandfather, Benjamin Franklin Hart. Dozens of false-front buildings extended from one end of the dusty street to the other, their gray, weathered siding a testament to the hot south-central Texas sun. “Might as well begin at the church and work our way back to the mercantile.”
They started toward the end of Main Street, where the white clapboard church was the first building to greet people arriving from the south. Their spurs rang against the wooden boardwalk as they sauntered past friends and neighbors. Hays tipped his hat at Ruby and Julia Brown standing outside the telegraph office. “’Morning, ladies.”
Color bloomed in Ruby’s cheeks as she batted her pretty eyes under the brim of her bonnet. “’Morning, Hays.”
Hays didn’t take the time to stop, and the ladies’ whispered giggles followed him and Gage to the end of the boardwalk.
“Why the rush to get these hung today?” Gage asked, glancing back at the Brown sisters. “You have a whole year to choose a wife.”
“I plan to beat my brothers to the altar.” As the youngest of seven brothers, Hays had never been the first to accomplish anything. By the time he was twelve, all but one of his brothers had left the ranch to either fight in the Civil War or start a life outside the 7 Heart Ranch. He’d grown up under the shadow of his brothers’ successes. No matter what he did, it had already been done before. “For once, I’d like my pa to look at me with the same pride I see when he talks about Austin and Bowie’s heroism in the war, Houston’s success as a merchant in California, Travis’s medical career, Crockett’s work ethic, and Chisholm’s job as a Texas Ranger.” His voice became serious as he looked at the WANTED poster again. “I’m going to be the first to marry and make my pa proud.”
He’d also prove to his family that he was no longer a child.
Gage lifted his Stetson and ran his hand over his wiry blond hair. “I’ll do what I can to help.” As the best wrangler on the 7 Heart Ranch, Gage was a natural choice to help Hays lasso a wife.
They arrived at the church and Hays handed the stack of posters to Gage. He pried four rusty tacks off a weather-stained advertisement from last summer and positioned the WANTED poster in the very center of the board. He set the tack in place, pounding it with the flat edge of a rock he picked up off the ground.
He made quick work of the second tack and was on the third when the front door opened. A young lady stepped out of the church, her green eyes filled with curiosity as she peered around the edge of the door. “May I help you?”
Hays stopped the rock mid-strike, his attention no longer on the poster but on the beautiful stranger standing before him.
Gage quickly doffed his hat. “We’re just tacking a poster onto the bulletin board.”
She glanced at the board, as if seeing it for the first time. “Oh, I didn’t realize there was a bulletin board. I thought someone was vandalizing the chur—” Her response was cut off as she bent forward and studied Hays’s poster.
Hays backed up to give her a better view, his chest puffing out just a bit.
She stood straight, incredulity arching her eyebrows. “Wanted: A Bride for Hays Hart?” She glanced from Gage to Hays. “Who is Hays Hart?”
Hays leaned against the side of the building, his arms crossed. “I’d much rather know who you are,” he said, affecting a drawl. “I thought I knew everyone in town.”
She lifted her chin a notch—barely enough for Hays to notice. “I just arrived after Christmas.” Her dark brown curls were gathered loosely at the back, and a white blouse was cinched with a red sash at her slender waist. A long black skirt came down to the tops of her polished boots. Everything about her was in its proper place—yet somehow she looked as out of place in Texas as a snowstorm in July. “I’m the new teacher. Miss Longley.” She sized up Hays with one quick glance. “I presume you’re Mr. Hays Hart?”
He grinned, knowing his dimples would flash and hoping they would charm her like they had so many others. He lifted his hat and offered a grand bow. “The one and only.”
She didn’t look impressed. “Are you George Washington Hart’s son?”
“Right, again.” He dropped his hat onto his head and tried to coax a smile from her—but to no avail. She looked more and more vexed by the minute.
“Does Mr. Hart condone this … this…” She indicated the poster with a wave of her slender white hand. “This advertisement?”
Gage lowered his head and allowed the brim of his Stetson to cover his face.
“As a matter of fact”—Hays tossed the rock into the air and caught it with a flourish—“he’s the one who suggested I look for a wife.”
Her arms fell to her sides, a bit of bluster fading away. “I can hardly believe it.”
Hays deliberately pounded the last tack in place. “I’m looking for a wife, and anyone can apply, whether they’ve lived here all their life, or”—he winked—“they’re new in town.”
Her long lashes fluttered against her high cheekbones. “I can’t allow you to post that here.”