CHAPTER8
Blanche felt like she was suffocating. The anxiety of what she would face when they arrived was beginning to get to her. She leaned her head out the window just as the stage rolled into town.
A quaint little town came into view. A bank, a mercantile, a restaurant, and a saloon, with a couple of other unnamed buildings were on Main Street.
No hotel. Where would they stay? Or would they marry a man upon arrival? She knew what she wanted. She wanted a rancher. She didn’t want to live in town. She refused.
She wanted the life she’d lost.
The largest house had a sign out front. Dr. Owen Sanders.
“No hotel? Where will we stay?” Daisy asked.
“I don’t know. Look, there is a group of people standing in front of a building. Oh, dear, it’s the men,” Mary said.
Blanche saw a group of handsome young men standing out front and realized this was it. This was the beginning of their new life.
Unable to look away, Blanche continued to hang out the window, unease filling her. What if she didn’t find what she was looking for? What would she do then?
Somehow she had to believe she would find what she was searching for. A rancher. A man with land and cattle and horses.
“We’ll always be friends,” Daisy said, tears filling her eyes.
“Yes, always. No matter what happens,” Mary said.
The stagecoach driver pulled on the reins and the horses slowed and the coach came to a stop.
Blanche pulled back from the window. She felt like she was going to be sick again. That damn Alice had done this to make her look bad, but she was not going to let illness overcome her.
“This is it,” Mary said.
A roar from the men outside filled the air.
“Oh, look how handsome they all are,” Blanche said. “We’re getting married.”
The door suddenly opened. “Ladies, you have arrived.”
Nausea gripped Blanche. At the last stop, they had thrown dice to see who would alight first and in what order. Mary had won the draw and Daisy was second. Blanche would be third and Rose would be right behind her.
This was it.
Swallowing the fear and nausea, she watched as Mary took the driver’s hand and stepped from the stage. Then it was Daisy’s turn.
“Good luck.”
“You too,” they said.
Blanche watched her friend greeting the men and then the stagecoach driver was waiting for her. It was her turn to step from the coach.
“Take a deep breath and smile. You’re beautiful. Any man out there would be lucky to have you for his bride,” Rose said.
Her heart seemed to melt at the woman’s words.
“Thank you,” she said. “I needed to hear that.”
“Go get ’em,” she said with a smile.
Stepping out of the coach, Blanche stopped and took a deep breath before she walked up to the waiting group of men.
Plastering a smile on her face, she shook hands with the first four men and then she reached a man who smiled at her shyly, his big brown eyes filled with wonder. Dark lashes lay on his high cheekbones and the way his lips turned up to greet her had her tilting her head.
There was something about him that seemed to draw her.
“Blanche Underwood,” she said.
“Martin Sanders of the Lucky Strike Ranch,” he said, pushing his off-white cowboy hat back from his face.
The man looked like a rancher with his arms all muscled up, his shirt fit him tightly across his chest, and she wondered how it would feel to lay her head there.
“Did you say ranch?” she said, gazing at him, hoping he was really a rancher.
“Yes,” he replied. “We own about one hundred acres just outside of town.”
“I’m a ranching girl,” she said. “My family owned fifty acres of some of the best grassland in South Carolina. We raised cattle and horses and even had a couple hundred sheep.”
He grinned at her. “Welcome to Treasure Falls.”
“Thank you,” she said, hoping she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself, but knowing she wanted to live on a ranch. It was where she belonged.
She stepped to the next man.
“Blanche Underwood.”
“Jakob Moore. Martin and I own the Lucky Strike together.”
She nodded, not wanting to seem obsessed with their ranch. His large blue eyes seemed to twinkle at her.
This man was just as handsome as the previous one. Why had these men not found wives?
He wore a brown cowboy hat that he pushed back as he stared at her like he’d just received a Christmas present.
“You’re a redhead,” he said.