Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection

No condemnation.

“And about Travis? My heart craves marriage. I don’t want to be a widow for the rest of my life. I want babies and a family. Can I have those, too?” Though exhaustion weighed heavy on her body, her heart had never been so at peace. Perhaps the enemy had been using guilt to steal this intimacy with her heavenly Father. Intimacy she desperately longed for.

The answer rose up, the cleansing waters of truth washing away the built-up grime of lies.

No condemnation, daughter. Rest in My love.



Taking the afternoon off to visit the Parker ranch had to be one of the stupidest things

Travis had ever done. All because he’d promised to give Robbie his old Stetson.

Then promptly forgot after the boy’s mother broke his heart.

He slowed his horse as he reached the end of the drive. If anything, the ranch looked in worse disrepair than it ever had. Weeds grew in tangled abandon. A few shingles had blown off the roof and lay littered on the ground.

Not that it mattered much to him. He only wanted to see Robbie, give him the hat.

And steer clear of Annie.

He pulled the hat out of his saddlebag, climbed the steps, and knocked once on the door. A couple of minutes passed before it opened.

“Dr. Hart.” Instead of giving her usual flirty smile, a wrinkle formed in Josie’s brow.

“Miss Parker. I just came by to see Robbie. Is he around?”

Josie nodded. “Yes. He’s sort of upset right now, though.”

“Why?” Travis fingered the battered Stetson, meeting her gaze.

“It’s Annie.”

The simple mention of her name, coupled with the edge in Josie’s voice, kicked his pulse to a dangerously high rate.

“She hasn’t been back since yesterday. I’ve been trying to convince Father to go looking for her, but he won’t listen to a word of reason.”

“Do you know where she is?”

Dear God, please let her be all right. Please let us find her whole and well, not…

“She went on her rounds. I don’t know her patients who might be close to delivery.” Josie bit her lip, the troubled look in her eyes so like Annie’s. Travis forced himself to look away.

“She didn’t mention anything?”

Josie tilted her head. “She said she wanted a good long ride to clear her head. And she took an apple and a slice of bread from the kitchen, so I figured she knew she’d be gone for some time.”

He mentally ran over a list of the expectant women who dwelt in the surrounding area. Emma—Hays’s wife, but Annie wasn’t at the 7 Heart. Margaret Foster, who lived just outside of town. Beth Perkins—she had to be at least eight months along, and the Perkins homestead was several miles away. Karen Sandler. Wife of Abe Sandler, a man known for his strange behavior, brought on after the war. The Sandlers lived the farthest out of anyone.

“I have a couple of ideas.” He turned sharply and strode down the steps. “Don’t worry, Miss Parker. I’ll find her.”

He’d do so quicker if he had help, and with a passel of brothers around, he easily found that. Hays had been preparing to take a ride, and he offered to assist Travis by going to the Perkins’ place and checking some of the back roads.

Travis decided to take Bowie with him to the Sandler cabin.

Bowie wasn’t much for needless conversation, so the brothers rode in silence. Travis was glad of it. Gave him time to think, time he sorely needed. Without a second thought, he’d volunteered to search for the woman he loved. Guess the Almighty hadn’t given him much help in getting over her.

Or maybe, just maybe, the Lord had other plans. Plans that involved growing closer instead of further apart to the beautiful woman who had caught hold of his heart.

No. He couldn’t go there. A man could only take so much disappointment.

“What are you fixing to do when you find her?” Thankfully, Bowie hadn’t said if.

“I just want to find her first.” He’d content himself with seeing her safe and well. Even if she looked at him as she had during their last meeting, he wouldn’t flinch. It would be enough to know no harm had come to her.

As they neared the Sandler cabin, foreboding shadowed Travis like a ghostly specter. Bowie seemed to sense it, too, his posture tense, his gaze constantly roving.

The holstered pistol pressed tighter against Travis’s hip as they drew into the clearing. Travis sucked in a breath. Sandler sat in front of the cabin door, swigging from a bottle. For the moment, he appeared not to have noticed them.

The brothers dismounted, tying the horses to a tree near the woods.

Travis kept his tone low. “Whether she’s in there or not, Sandler’s drunk. How much, I can’t tell. Let’s just act as if we’re paying a friendly visit.”

Bowie gave a quick nod.

They stepped into the clearing. Travis forced an easy smile. “Afternoon to you, Abe.”

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