Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection

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Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection Page 8

by Amanda Barratt


  “No. When I was at their house he said we’d leave the money in the safe until Monday morning, when we would take it to the bank.”

  Hays surveyed the crowd, suddenly feeling too warm to be wearing his evening suit. “Does Emma know?”

  “No.” Connie’s voice was low. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her. I want her to enjoy herself this evening. She was so proud of the bazaar and all the hard work everyone put into the event.”

  “Good. I don’t want her to worry.” She had worked harder than anyone and deserved to have some fun tonight.

  “Who do you think could have done it?” Hays asked.

  “It was someone who has access to the safe combination, because it wasn’t broken.”

  “But who would have access?”

  “The only people who know the combination, besides the Longleys and myself, are members of the elder board.”

  Another thought began to plague Hays. “What if the auction doesn’t make enough money?” Emma would be heartbroken and whoever had done this would win. Was it the same person who had started the petition? He wished he had discovered who that was.

  “What can we do?” Connie asked, her eyes troubled.

  An idea came to Hays, one that would work. “Connie, we need to make sure the bachelor auction makes enough money to pay for the school.”

  “How can we do that?”

  “You’re going to bid on me. I’ll go last and you can calculate how much money the other bachelors brought in. Whatever is needed at that point is how much you’ll bid. My father offered to help pay for the school, but Emma refused. Surely he will give me the money for this.”

  Connie’s eyes grew round. “You want me to pay that much money for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But what will people think?”

  “Does it matter? Emma needs that money.”

  The Longleys approached from the south, Reverend Longley leading the way along the boardwalk with Mrs. Longley on his arm. Emma and Hope followed.

  Hays’s attention immediately went to Emma. She wore a stunning green gown. It was tight in front, accentuating her small waist, and pulled back into a generous bustle. Her curls were piled high, with ringlets teasing her cheeks. She scanned the crowd, but when her eyes fell on him, she stopped searching.

  His heart did a funny little flip, and he wanted nothing more than to cross the space and tell her how beautiful she looked.

  “I’ll do what I can,” Connie said, drawing his attention back to her and the problem at hand. “I just hope Emma doesn’t suspect…”

  “She won’t.” He offered Connie his arm. “Let’s go say hello to Emma—and remember not to tell her about the money. I want her to have fun tonight.”

  They walked toward the Longleys, but Hays paused. “One more thing. After you bid on me and win, would you offer me to Emma for the first dance?”

  Connie squeezed his arm. “I’d like nothing more.”

  Hays was already looking forward to holding Emma again.

  Emma sat with her family and GW Hart at a reserved table near the dance floor. A gentle breeze whispered across her skin, and the evening stars sparkled overhead. She felt cocooned in warmth from the success of the bazaar earlier in the day, and now the success of the bachelor auction and street dance.

  Loyalty. It felt good to find it in this community.

  Hays stood at the end of the line, waiting to be auctioned. He had been watching her all evening—and truth be told, she had been watching him, as well. Though she had been busy all week, nothing could keep her from forgetting the kiss they had shared near the Sabinal River. Every time she recalled the pleasure of the stolen moment, she had to remind herself it was a mistake.

  If only her heart would believe her and let her forget.

  Emma’s cheeks warmed at the memory of the kiss—and then she noticed that Mama and Papa were watching her. Emma pretended like nothing was amiss as she looked down at her reticule and counted her money once again.

  “Our last bachelor of the evening,” Ruby Brown said from the stage, “is Hays Hart.”

  Emma had to bite her bottom lip to stop the wide grin that wanted to make an appearance on her face. The last thing she needed was for her parents to suspect what had happened between them.

  Hays stepped up to the stage, his carefree, confident grin fixed in place. Up and down the street, women cheered and clapped louder than they had for anyone else.

  “Have you been waiting to bid on Hays?” Hope asked, leaning over to whisper to Emma. “I think several women have. Good thing I got my bachelor early.”

  Emma glanced at Gage, who sat next to Hope, his hands clasping and unclasping in his lap. The poor man. He looked like he had been lassoed, waiting for the sting of a branding iron to claim ownership.

  Some ladies, like Hope, had bid on the bachelors with romantic intentions, but the majority had bid for the simple pleasure of helping the school. Hays’s brothers had been bid on by Perla, who claimed Crockett, and the waitress Tillie, who claimed Austin. Old Widow Hansen had put her claim on Travis, and now had the man all to herself talking his ear off, pointing at various joints of her body, and no doubt complaining of rheumatism or some other malady.

  But here stood Hays, in all his evening finery. Gone was the sense of good-natured competition among the women. Several narrowed their eyes with intent. One was Evelyn Palmer. She sat at a table with her father and Miss Spanner, wearing an elaborate gown.

  “I believe Hays needs no introduction,” Ruby said, though she had introduced each bachelor before. “He is well-known by many young ladies in this town.”

  Emma knew what Ruby had meant, but still the insinuation left her feeling uncomfortable … and jealous. Her heart thudded an irregular rhythm wondering who would win the pleasure of his company for the rest of the evening. Surely, with so many vying for his attention, the paltry ten dollars she had in her reticule would not compete.

  “Who will start the bidding?” Ruby asked.

  Nerves bubbled in Emma’s stomach and she took a deep breath. “I’ll start—”

  “I’ll start the bidding.” A young woman spoke up.

  Emma spun and looked into the large, nervous eyes of…

  “Connie?”

  Connie gave Emma a wobbly smile, and then she looked up at the stage. “I’ll bid two hundred dollars.”

  Gasps filled the air.

  Two hundred dollars?

  Emma swung back around to look at Hays.

  He was now watching Connie.

  Emma had to swallow the pain of disappointment. Why was her friend bidding on Hays? But, then, why wouldn’t she? Emma had no claim on Hays, and it was clear Connie had always admired him. It made perfect sense that she would bid on him—but why the exorbitant amount of money? All the other bachelors had gone for five or ten dollars. Widow Hansen had spent twenty on Travis, and that had been the highest bid all evening.

  “Two hundred dollars?” Ruby asked from the stage. “Are you sure?”

  Connie stood, her head high, though Emma noticed the tremble in her hands. “Yes.”

  Emma turned her attention back at Hays, but he didn’t look her way. The sudden realization that she wanted Hays’s attention left her disconcerted.

  The emotions that had been swirling inside Emma for the past few weeks culminated in that moment. Somehow, despite her best attempt at preventing it, she had fallen in love with Hays Hart.

  Did he feel the same for her? She had thought so, but the way he looked at Connie now, with admiration and relief—she wasn’t so sure.

  Would Connie become the answer to his need for a wife?

  “Are there any other bidders?” Ruby asked with uncertainty.

  The townspeople looked at one another with stunned expressions.

  The only person who was talking was Evelyn. She pulled on her father’s arm, whispering something in his ear. But the older man was shaking his head, vehemently opposing whatever she was suggesting.


  “If there are no other bids,” Ruby said with less enthusiasm than she had exhibited all evening, “then I believe Constance Prescott has won the right to the first dance with Hays Hart.”

  For a moment, everyone was silent, and then a robust cheer rose from the crowd.

  “Uncle Henry”—Ruby waved at the man who sat at the back of the stage—“the dance will now begin.”

  Uncle Henry nodded, his jowls wiggling, and set his beefy chin to the fiddle. “We’ll begin as soon as the young lady claims her partner.”

  Emma looked down at the unused money in her reticule as Connie moved away from the table to meet Hays on the dance floor. She couldn’t bring herself to watch her friend dance in his arms. Maybe she could excuse herself and leave—

  “Emma.” Connie tapped Emma’s shoulder.

  Emma looked up, startled, but couldn’t find the words to speak. Connie stood with Hays by her side—and this time he was looking right at Emma.

  “As a way to say thank you for all the hard work you and Hays have done for the school and the community,” Connie said, “I’d like the two of you to lead the first dance together.”

  Hays extended his hand. By rote, Emma accepted it, though she didn’t have the wherewithal to think about her actions as he tugged her to her feet and led her onto the dance floor. The band began to play “The Blue Danube,” and Hays bowed before Emma.

  She offered a shaky curtsy, aware of everyone watching them.

  He took her into his arms and for a brief moment they stared at one another. Slowly, the street and all the people of Hartville faded away. It was just the two of them as he twirled her around the floor in an exquisite pattern of movement. Never had she danced with a man who was so surefooted and graceful—it almost felt as if they were gliding on ice, something she missed desperately from home.

  “Where did you learn to dance?” she asked, her voice betraying her awe.

  “My mother. She insisted we learn to dance.”

  “My thanks to your mother.”

  His blue eyes twinkled, and he wore his heart in his smile, as always.

  The formality of the dance kept them at a distance, but ever so gently, Hays pulled her close, despite their audience, and they waltzed on in beautiful silence.

  The song ended much too soon, but it had been perfect—the whole day had been more than she had hoped.

  Ruby called the other couples to come onto the dance floor, and soon Hays and Emma were surrounded by the other bachelors and their ladies. Even Travis led Widow Hansen toward them, though they moved slowly through the crowd.

  Hays held Emma’s hand and didn’t let it go. He was breathless as he said, “Emma, I’d like to speak to you—alone.”

  For the first time since he had brought her to his property along the Sabinal, she wanted to be alone with him again. “All right.”

  “So it seems the Hart family ended up paying for the school, after all.” Evelyn Palmer pushed her way through the dancers, her voice rising above the instruments.

  Emma frowned. “I think you’re mistaken.” She squeezed Hays’s hand. “It was Connie who paid for Hays—”

  “At least that’s what you think.” Evelyn’s cool gaze bore into Emma with triumph. “It’s my understanding that Hays gave Connie the two hundred dollars to pay for that disgraceful dance we just witnessed.”

  “What?” Emma looked toward Hays. “What is she talking about?”

  Hays frowned at Evelyn. “How would you know something like that?”

  “I overheard you through the open window.” Evelyn motioned across the street, where her father’s bank stood proudly next to the mercantile. “Really, Hays, you’ve never been one to deceive a friend.”

  Several dancers, including Hope and Gage, stopped nearby to listen.

  Heat climbed up Emma’s neck as she studied Hays. “Is it true?”

  “Yes, but what does it matter?” He shook his head as if it was of little consequence. “Someone stole the money from the bazaar, and instead of ruining your evening and all your hard work, I thought this would be the best way to make sure there was enough money to still build the school.”

  “You knew I didn’t want to take your father’s money—”

  “You worked hard, had a good turnout, and earned all the money you needed for the school. Whoever stole the bazaar money will have to live with their guilt, but we all still get what we want.”

  “What we want?” Emma shook her head. “What I wanted was loyalty from this community, including the person who stole the money—but especially from you.”

  All the dancers had stopped now, and the band had ceased playing. What must all of these people think of her carrying on this way? Embarrassment flashed hot. None of this was their fault and they had all paid to enjoy their evening. “Please, continue the dance, and have a lovely time.” She managed a weak smile. “Thank you all for your support of the school.”

  She turned, catching GW’s troubled gaze, and walked through the crowd toward the parsonage.

  It was more obvious to her than ever that she and Hays were not well-suited for one another. How could she love a man who didn’t have the decency to respect her wishes? She had explained to him why she didn’t want the Hart family’s money—yet he had tried to deceive her into taking it.

  He wasn’t serious enough for her—had never been—but she had allowed herself to be charmed … and to fall in love.

  That thought alone made the tears finally come.

  Chapter Eight

  Hays left the dance floor and caught up with Emma near Travis’s medical building at the end of Main Street. The cloudless night offered a brilliant view of the starry sky, but there was no moon in sight. This part of Hartville was strangely quiet. Emma walked with her face in her hands.

  Was she crying?

  “Emma?” He put his hands on her shoulders to turn her toward him. The scant light revealed her tears, but she refused to look at him.

  Guilt shot through Hays like a bullet, straight to his heart. He never imagined his actions would hurt her so deeply. He thought he was fixing the problem and sparing her pain—yet here she stood, anguish rolling off her cheeks in the form of teardrops.

  “Emma, I’m sorry. I had no idea that you’d be so upset. I thought I was helping.”

  She shook her head. “I know—oh, Hays.” She pulled away from his hands and wiped at the tears. “Don’t you see? You tried to help by shielding me from the pain you thought I couldn’t bear. Yet the disappointment over the stolen money is nothing like the disappointment in knowing that you betrayed my wishes.”

  Again her tears fell, and he felt helpless to stop them. It was a horrible feeling, and it left him feeling powerless for the first time since he was a child. He reached for her. “Emma—”

  She took a step back and shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t think any of this”—she waved her hand between them—“is a good idea. I’ve known it since we met. We’re two very different people. It wouldn’t work.”

  Again, the helplessness. How could he make this right? How could he restore her happiness? How could he recapture what they had felt at the Sabinal and while dancing to “The Blue Danube”?

  “What can I do, Em?”

  A single tear slipped from her eye. “Nothing.”

  Emma turned and walked away—and Hays didn’t have the power to stop her.

  He couldn’t sleep that night, though he lay in his large bed and relived all the moments that had led up to Emma’s departure.

  As the hours ticked by, his mind wandered back to when he was a boy about David’s age. Most of his brothers had left the ranch, and then his mother had died. Hays thought long and hard about those difficult years and how they had shaped him into the man he had become. Truth be told, they had shaped all the Hart brothers—each in his own way.

  Hays had wanted to have control over a world gone mad. Pain and sadness were two things he felt helpless to command—but joy, that was something he
could produce with a few quick words, a big grin, and a helping hand—until this night, when it had all gone wrong with Emma.

  Before the sun rose, Hays was out of bed. He couldn’t handle any more thoughts. He needed to stay busy.

  He left the house before his family woke up and went to the barn to saddle Bella. He spoke in soft tones as he led her out into the yard.

  “’Morning, Hays.” Pa stood near the corral fence, quietly watching the sun rise above the eastern horizon, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.

  “I thought I was the only one awake.”

  “Did you sleep at all last night, son?”

  It didn’t pay to hide the truth—not from his pa. “No, sir.”

  Pa hitched his foot onto the bottom rail of the fence. “Did things go bad between you and Emma?”

  Hays walked over to the fence and tossed the reins around the top rail. “Yes, sir.”

  “Over that money?”

  “Did you hear?”

  “I think everyone heard.”

  Hays closed his eyes briefly, embarrassed all over again by the whole situation. He couldn’t imagine what Emma was feeling.

  “Why’d you do it?”

  Hays leaned against the fence, putting his forearms on the top rail, lowering his eyes to allow his Stetson to cover his face. “I was just trying to make her happy. I knew she’d be heartbroken if she found out there wasn’t enough money to pay for the school building.”

  Pa was quiet for a moment, and then he sighed. “There’s something you and I need to get straight. Something I’ve put off for too long.”

  Apprehension snaked its way up Hays’s spine, until he was standing straight.

  Pa’s blue eyes were locked on Hays’s face. “Son, you can’t fix the world.”

  “I know that—”

  “Do you?” Pa took a slow drink of coffee. “I’ve known you all your life. You think you can shield your loved ones from pain, but sometimes the only way to learn a lesson is to struggle through the hurt.”

  “If it’s in my power to stop it, why shouldn’t I try?”

  “There have been times when I saw you and your brothers walking toward trouble, but sometimes I had to let you go through it.” Pa pointed out a mesquite tree sitting next to El Regalo. “See that tree?”

 

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