Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection

Caro pulled her mother closer. “Se?or Reynolds will understand. Come, Mamá. You need to lie back down. I’ll serve supper.”

Chisholm watched Caro usher her mother into the ranch house. The fear the two women felt hung in the air as thickly as the smoke. Would Hank Reynolds let Maria and Caro go over a fire like this? Perhaps if the damage were repaired, the ranch owner would be more understanding.

He turned to Whit. “That beam will have to come down. Think we can find a replacement around here?”

“Maybe.” Whit rubbed his watery eyes. “You going to fix it?”

He nodded. “I’m a fair hand at building.”

“And it might appease Reynolds?”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Chisholm picked up the chairs to clear the room. “From what we’ve seen, I don’t think he’d put Caro and her mother out, but they didn’t look so certain.”

Whit drew his hand down his mustache. “Guess I better start looking for that replacement beam then.”



Caro donned an old apron and rolled up her sleeves before joining Chisholm in the summer kitchen. Despite the diminishing sun, Se?or Reynolds had not yet come home, and she wanted to have as much cleaned up as possible before he arrived.

She looked around the insides of the little building. Soot and sawdust marred the cookware and dishes, but Chisholm and Whit had managed to splice a new beam in place above the stove.

Chisholm climbed down off the ladder and stuck his hammer in his back pocket. “Looks almost as good as new.”

“Yes, it does. Se?or Reynolds should be pleased.” She set a kettle on the stove. “Where’s Whit?”

“He went to wash up. Said his mouth tastes like soot.”

She forced a smile. “How can I show you both my gratitude?”

“Consider it thanks for all of your help. We found everything we needed in the blacksmith area.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “Thought maybe Ricardo and Mr. Reynolds would be home by now.”

“They sent word there’s a cow having trouble in a delivery. Ricardo may have fallen from Se?or Reynolds’s graces as of late, but he’s an excellent vaquero—one of the best. If anyone can save the cow and calf, it’s him.” She picked up one of the buckets. “I’m sure you’re tired. Your supper is on the sideboard. I want to do the cleanup in here while Mamá is resting.”

Chisholm took the bucket. “I’ll fetch the water while you stir the embers.”

After he returned and poured water into the washtub, she insisted he go inside to fill a plate. He came back a few minutes later while she was shaving soap into the warm water. He dragged in a chair from outside and sat down. She loaded the washtub, casting an occasional glance at Chisholm, who devoured the meal. Poor man must have been starving.

As soon as he finished, he set the empty plate in the washtub and then carried the table and other chair back inside the summer kitchen. Next, he grabbed a towel and began to dry the clean dishes.

“You don’t need to do that, Chisholm. You’ve done enough.”

“I want to.” He grabbed a pot from her drain board. “Caro, you said that Ricardo had fallen from Mr. Reynolds’s graces lately. Why is that?”

Caro hiked her shoulder. “I’m not sure. I thought he’d been caught drinking. Things seemed tense between them, but not so much anymore.”

“Why?”

“Today I went to the barn. Ricardo was finishing shoeing Se?or Reynolds’s horse. When Se?or Reynolds came in, he mentioned Ricardo running an errand for him. He was crotchety with me, but seemed amiable enough with Ricardo. Perhaps being around the house instead of working the cattle was some sort of privilege, and I read it wrong.”

“Is that what you really think?”

“Maybe it’s what I hope.” The familiar bile of fear rose in her throat, and she wanted to tell Chisholm all about the rest of the conversation with Ricardo. Still, she held her tongue. She turned to get another pan, but instead hit Chisholm’s solid chest as he reached for the same item.

Chisholm caught her arms, and his eyes locked on hers. He was so close, and he smelled of smoke, sweat, and masculinity. Had her heart ever pounded so hard in her life?

She noticed a scar beneath the corner of his right eye. How had he gotten that? Was he a boy or a man when it happened?

“I’m still a Texas Ranger.” His voice was rough.

“I know.” She shouldn’t let this happen. He would leave her. But she could no more move than breathe.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and her tongue darted out to moisten them. He cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes.

Just as the longing became unbearable, his tender lips met hers in the gentlest of kisses, making her wish this moment could last forever.



Chisholm pulled away, but didn’t remove his hand from Caro’s face. His head said he shouldn’t have kissed her, but his heart begged to disagree.

“Hey, Chisholm, why are—” Whit entered the doorway and stopped. “Oh, sorry.”

Chisholm’s hand dropped to her arm, but he maintained contact with her. “Your supper is inside on the sideboard, Whit.”

“Uh, thanks, y’all.” Whit hurried away.

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