WestwardWindsV2Arebooks by Linda Bridey

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    The stage coach pulled up in front of the general store in Wolf Point, which also served as a stage depot. As she alighted from the coach, Tessa stretched, glad to be on solid ground, at least for a little while. The driver unloaded her belongings and sat them on the porch of the store. Tessa thanked him and gave him a tip, something she was used to doing in Pittsburgh. The rough-looking driver looked at the money she was handing him and then back at her as if to say, “Are you sure?”
    Tessa smiled and said, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your help in bringing me here.”
    He smiled and took the money. “Thanks miss. You ever need to go anywhere again, let me know.”
    “Of course,” Tessa said.
    He mounted the coach, tipped his hat to her, and then drove away. Tessa gathered her belongings into a more orderly lineup and then entered the store. The elderly gent behind the counter came out from behind it and looked at her. “Well, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “We don’t get many young ladies around here that look like you.”
    Tessa smiled. “Thank you. You’re much too kind.”
    “Nope. Just tellin’ the truth. So you’re that blue blood gal from the east, huh?” he said.
    “I suppose I am. I see you’ve heard about me,” she said. She had expected that the people of the area would be curious about her.
    “Hell, everyone around here’s heard about ya . It’s big doings, ya know. Besides which, Dean asked me to keep an eye on you when you got here. Said he’d be here today, so I expect him any time now. He keeps his word.”
    Tessa was comforted by that fact. “I’m Theresa O’Connor,” she said, holding out a hand.
    The store owner took it and shook it the same way a man’s hand would be shook. “Lance Long. Pleased to meet you.”
    Tessa shook his hand firmly, knowing, from watching her father do the same thing over the years, that it was expected.
    “Good shake. Can always tell a good person from the way they shake hands,” Lance said. “Good lookin’ and ya got good manners. If Dean doesn’t marry you, I will.”
    Tessa laughed. “You’re such a flirt!” she accused. She was no stranger to flirting and could hold her own when it came to the oral dance between men and women.
    “Flirt? Hell, I mean it!” Lance said. “Oh, pardon my language, miss.”
    “Please think nothing of it. I’ve heard much worse,” Tessa said.
    The sound of horses’ hooves and wagon wheels prevented any further conversation.

    The buckboard wagon rattled around the last turn on the way to Long’s Mercantile. Dean and Marcus were running late because the front axle on his buggy had broken. He didn’t always use the buggy and didn’t realize that part of the axle had weakened. They’d hit a bad rut and it had snapped it the rest of the way.
    They’d had to get the broken vehicle off the road and take the horses back to the ranch to get them hitched to the wagon. Dean had wanted to use the buggy because it would be more comfortable for Theresa. He and the kids were used to riding the buckboard but to someone who was used to riding along smooth streets, the dirt roads could be awfully hard on the rear end.
    He was hoping that maybe the stage coach had been late and that they’d still get there ahead of Theresa. Dean’s hope for that died as they neared the store and saw a womanly figure out on the porch of the store.
    “Wow, Dean, she’s a looker,” Marcus said as the wagon drew closer.
    Dean didn’t need Marcus to tell him that. He drove the wagon automatically, but his senses were honed in on the beautiful woman watching them. Her dark hair was stylishly done. She looks like something out of a magazine, Dean thought. She looked fresh, despite the lengthy journey. She was smiling and, as they pulled up, Dean could see her teeth were white and nicely shaped.
    Dean’s eyes roamed over her full bosom, slender waist, and slightly flaring hips. Her blue eyes