#WeWriWa: A Dream Come True? . . . SWEET TEXAS DREAMS

If only life mirrored the fantasy found in books . . . Young Becca Bass, the sheltered youngest daughter of West Texas tracker Harmon Bass, has grown up surrounded by the daring do of others, but the idea of heroics simply terrifies her . . . until a handsome stranger shows up at the front steps needing to hire her father.

Her mother had always told her patience would bring her heart’s desire, but never had Becca Bass expected it to be delivered up to her front door.

“I’m looking for Harmon Bass and was told I could find him here.”

It took Becca a moment to remember how to speak, so lost was she in the staring. They didn’t get many visitors out in the emptiness of West Texas where their house nestled in against the foothills of the Chisos, but that alone wasn’t the reason for the fluttery tempo bumping within the cage of her ribs. It wasn’t any one thing that held her mesmerized; it was all of them together. The way the stranger’s shoes refused to let the thick dust conquer their determined shine; the way his beautifully tailored suit held to its arrogant creases; the supple driving gloves that most likely protected smooth hands untouched by hard labor; the fair unlined skin molded to the long angles of his face that spoke of the North as clearly as his crisp diction; the meticulously groomed brown hair trained by a professional barber’s comb instead of a pair of shears on a kitchen stool, and a mouth full of sensual curves that should have smiled more than it probably did and now was pressed with the look of serious business.

As Becca gazed down from the top step of her family’s porch into the sterling gray of his eyes, her every quivering instinct told her that this was the one; the man who lived in the fairytale world her mother described when she spoke of her years in the East, the one who would step from the pages of the love stories she treasured to become everything she desired and couldn’t find here in the sear of West Texas. Here was her dream come true. And all she could do was stare in entranced wonder.

(and a bit more . . .)

“Am I in the right place?” he prompted when she gave no response.

“Oh, yes.” That sighed from her dreamily.

“Is he here? May I speak with him?” There was a slight edge of impatience to his tone, the sign of a man who’d come a long way for a mighty important reason and didn’t fancy wasting any more of his time in the hot sun talking to a calf-struck girl. “Harmon Bass,” he repeated slowly as if to someone who didn’t have a good grasp of the language. “You do know him?”

That made Becca smile. “Everyone around here knows him. He’s my father.”

Unfortunately, the legend he’s looking for has been injured and is unavailable. But instead of sending her dream man away, Becca does the first bold thing she can think of . . . something that just might get the both of them killed! Pretending she can fill her half-Apache father’s moccasins, Becca dons buckskins and convinces New York investment banker Morgan Daniels to follow her into the searing landscape along with his prissy manservant, who thankfully knows how to make a fire. So far. So good, until they catch up with the trouble they’re looking for!

I had a great time writing this final chapter in the published Bass family series (and am thoroughly enjoying rereading it now!). The research it took to bring Becca and her family to take on the New York high society her mother escaped was loads of fun. And dropping the always dangerous and unpredictable Harmon Bass into the middle of it made for some of the series’ best scenes. I didn’t want the adventure to end . . . so I’m picking up the chapters I’d started years ago that follow young Randy Bass and his cousin as they seek trouble and destiny with a convent runaway going home to war-torn Cuba. I’ll share a tease next week.

Hope you’ve found someplace cool to escape the awful humidity that we have here in Michigan. Just rain, already, and get it over with! At least the cats have been entertained by all the whirligigs the trees are shedding that now cover the patio and all my plants.

I’m having a happy birthday week. Enjoy a piece of cake on me! I won’t tell anyone.

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