Mail Order Bride: Westward Winds by - (book club books TXT) 📕

“Oh, shoot. That’s the wrong one. I mean, it is and it isn’t,” Tessa was slightly flustered and pulled out another one. “This is the real gift.”

The second one revealed an autographed copy of Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. He looked at Tessa sharply. “How? Why?” he stammered.

“I was privileged several years ago to be able to meet him and have him sign this book. I’ve gotten much joy from it and would like to pass it on to you because as another avid reader, I knew that you would draw as much enjoyment from it as I,” Tessa explained. Before Marcus objected, she said, “I shall be extremely offended if you do not accept it.”

Dean was enjoying watching her get the best of his little brother. Usually, it was Marcus getting his own way about something. It was nice to see the tables turned.

Marcus smiled, realizing she’d beaten him. “Very well, milady. As you wish.”

Tessa clapped and then handed Seth a package. Seth frowned a little but took it when she raised her eyebrows at him. He opened it and found a fine dress shirt and silk tie.

She laughed at his confused look. “As I understand it, you are a bit of a scoundrel. No lady will be able to resist you in those. Trust me.”

Seth laughed. “I’m not sure what to think of you.”

“Good. I enjoy keeping people guessing,” Tessa responded. Then she turned to Dean. “And for you.”

Dean looked uncomfortable but took the gift she offered, recognizing that he couldn’t refuse any more than his brothers had been able. He unwrapped a fine pair of work gloves that were soft, yet highly durable. He looked at Tessa in surprise. How had she known he had needed a pair? In fact, all of her gifts were very thoughtful and appropriate to each person.

“Thank you, Tessa,” he said. “These will be useful, that’s for sure.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything for you. We weren’t expecting gifts,” Dean said.

Tessa sought to soothe his pride. “Yes, you have. You’ve opened up your home to me and allowed me to meet your family. Not only that, but I want you to teach me some things. So although the presents may not be purchased, think of them as education. Lydia, will you please show me how to make chicken like that and give me some cooking instruction in general?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Marcus, I’d be very grateful if you were to show me how to whittle something?”

“Sure,” he said with a smile.

“Seth, I would enjoy it if you were to tell me what a real cattle drive is like so I can write about it.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t seem like much of a present,” Seth replied.

“To someone like me, it is,” Tessa assured him.

“And, Dean, please show me how to cut a calf from the herd?” Tessa leaned toward him, her eyes pleading with him. “You said that when the men are gone, the women have to carry on, so I see no reason why I shouldn’t be allowed to learn something like that. What if one becomes sick and needs tending? I might need to separate it so it can be treated.” She heard a snicker behind her and frowned at Marcus.

“Sorry, but you’re awful cute when you’re determined,” he said.

Dean tried not to, but he couldn’t prevent the laugh that started in his chest. “Not you, too!” she said in dismay.

“I’m sorry. Marcus is right. You’re very pretty with your eyes all bright and your pink cheeks. Are you sure you really want to learn that? It’s dangerous.”

Tessa crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you implying that I’m a weak woman and can’t handle it?”

Lydia heard the steel under Tessa’s cultured voice and sat back to watch the show.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Dean said.

“Mr. Samuels, I should like you to explain to me in exact words, then, what your concerns are so that I may put them to rest,” she said.

Dean frowned at her formal tone. “All right. Have you ever ridden a cow horse?”

“No, but I have ridden a lot of horses, including rather difficult ones,” she explained.

“Okay. Have you ever been around cattle? I mean, up close?” Dean asked.

“Does being able to milk a bad-tempered cow count? Or being unafraid to pet a bull?”

Dean nodded. “I guess so. How fast do you ride?”

Tessa gave a snort. “I think you mean race and jump, sir.”

Marcus and Seth exchanged surprised looks.

“What kind of saddle are we talkin’? Side saddle?”

“Yes, but I also ride astride,” Tessa said. “I know! If you teach this to me, I’ll teach you how to jump side saddle.”

Everyone laughed, even Dean. Marcus had tears in his eyes, he laughed so hard. He couldn’t get the picture of Dean in a dress, riding some pretty mare sidesaddle, out of his head.

When the laughter died, Dean said, “All right. You’re on.”

“Thank you,” Tessa said.

Lydia stood and said, “Well, I’d better get this cleaned up. It’s starting to get late.”

Tessa stood with her. “Please let me help. I’ve never washed dishes and I’d like to learn.”

“No time like the present then,” Lydia agreed.

An hour later, she and Lydia had finished and Lydia set about getting the children ready for bed. Tessa decided to leave her to it, figuring she would be learning that soon enough. She also had to remind herself that although she was eager to learn, she didn’t want to overstep and offend. She went into the parlor and found a lamp and matches. She lit it and sat in the rocking chair. It was very comfortable. Tessa thought about the day and knew that before she went to bed, she would have to write as much down as possible. Her eyes closed as she rocked gently, and soon she drifted off.

Dean found her that way. He and his brothers had gone to the barn to make sure things were secure and feed the stock while Lydia and Tessa had cleaned up the kitchen. The kitchen was empty when he came in. Seth had retired to his bunkhouse and Marcus had headed on home. He saw the light coming from the parlor and went in.

Tessa sat in Sarah’s chair, her head tilted to one side. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell slowly. Dean experienced a hollow feeling in his stomach. She was so different in both appearance and personality, but she was a woman and Lydia was the only woman who had sat in that chair since Sarah had died. It was both unsettling and nice.

Tessa was a fetching woman and the male part of him responded. Any man would be lucky to have her. Dean wondered why a woman of her age wasn’t married, especially one who obviously came from money and had all of the positive attributes Tessa possessed.

Tessa stirred and opened her eyes. Their gazes locked and that unnamed something passed between them. Tessa smiled, her soft lips curving and her eyes shining softly in the lantern light.

“Hello. You caught me nodding off, I’m afraid,” she said.

Dean smiled. “You looked comfortable.”

“Very. This is a wonderful chair,” she said.

“I bought the set of chairs when Sarah was expecting Sadie. I traded a heifer for them. Her feet would swell and her back hurt when she was further along,” he explained.

“She was a lucky woman to have such a thoughtful husband and I know you were all lucky to have her,” Tessa said.

Dean nodded. “Isn’t it strange for you to come here with the possibility of marriage and be talking about my late wife?” He sat down in the other chair.

“Did you expect me to be jealous?” Tessa asked.

“Something like that. I reckon that a lot of women wouldn’t want to talk about her, that they wouldn’t want to be compared or something.”

“Yes, I’ve known women like that. They somehow felt as if they were walking in the shadow of the first wife,” Tessa agreed. “I think that’s unreasonable, especially when that family had such a happy life together. Of course they’re not just going to forget all about her and I don’t expect any of you do that with Sarah. Dean, I knew what I was getting into when I answered that advertisement. Do you know why I chose yours?”

Dean laughed. “I have no idea. I’ve wondered about that.”

“Because though it was brief, it was full of heart and honesty. There have been a lot of marriages that have had neither of those. Marriages in my circles have been built for purely business reasons and the need to produce heirs. I didn’t want that kind of life.”

“Is that the way it is with your parents?” he asked.

Tessa’s smile lit up her face. “Oh, no. They are an exception. My father is Irish, hence the O’Connor name. My mother is of English descent.