A Mail-Order Bride Was Returned At The Depot, Until A Cowboy Picked Up Her Trunk And Called Her Wife

Chapter 2

The road out of Copper Creek wound through terrain so foreign to Willa’s experience that it might as well have been another planet. Gone were Boston’s narrow streets and tall buildings, the press of humanity and commerce. Here, space stretched endlessly in all directions—scrubby vegetation dotting rust-colored earth, distant mountains etched against a sky so blue it hurt to look at directly, the occasional stand of mesquite providing the only vertical relief.

“It’s beautiful,” Willa said softly, surprising herself with the admission. “In a savage sort of way.”

“Takes some getting used to,” Lucas agreed. His hands were relaxed on the reins, his posture suggesting a man comfortable in his environment. “The land out here doesn’t forgive mistakes easily, but it rewards those who respect it.”

The wagon crested a rise, and a cluster of buildings appeared in a shallow valley ahead. As they drew closer, Willa could make out a house built of squared logs and stone, a large barn, corrals, and several smaller outbuildings. It wasn’t grand, but neither was it the crude shack she’d half-feared.

“You live here alone?” The question emerged before she considered its implications.

“Just me and Pedro Mendoza—he helps with ranch work and sleeps in the bunkhouse.” Lucas slowed the horses as they approached. “Had more hands before the drought two years back. Had to let most go. Building back up now.”