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Amanda Cabot is an accomplished author under various pen names. She is a charter member of Romance Writers of America, the co-founder of its New Jersey chapter, and an avid traveler. She lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

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Her future stretched out like the clear blue Texas sky.

But a storm is coming.

Leaving the past behind in Philadelphia, mail-order bride Sarah Dobbs arrives in San Antonio ready to greet her groom--a man she has never met but whose letters, her paper roses, have won her heart from afar. But there is a problem--Austin Canfield is dead, and Sarah cannot go back East.

As Sarah tries to reconcile herself to a future that is drastically changed, Austin's brother Clay wants nothing more than to shake the Texas dust from his boots, but first he must find his brother's killer. And then there's Sarah.

Something is blooming out in the vast Texas landscape that neither Clay nor Sarah is ready to admit, and the promise of redemption blows like a gentle breeze through the prairie grasses.

Book 1 of the Texas Dreams series, Paper Roses will sweep you away with a tale of love, loss, and tantalizing possibilities.

Amanda Cabot is an accomplished author under various pen names. She is a charter member of Romance Writers of America, the co-founder of its New Jersey chapter, and an avid traveler.

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Paper Roses

Baker Publishing Group

Chapter One

"It'll be all right." Sarah Dobbs wrapped her arms around the child, wishing with all her heart that she could believe the words she'd uttered so often. The truth was, it didn't matter what she believed. All that mattered was keeping Thea safe. And so Sarah knelt on the hard-packed dirt of San Antonio's main street to wipe the tears from her sister's cheeks. The child was hot, tired, and excited by the unusual sights, a combination that turned normally sweet-tempered Thea querulous.

"Let me see, sweetie." Sarah reached for her sister's hands, giving each of the tiny palms a kiss. Thank goodness, this time Thea had not hurt herself. When she'd run and tumbled, trying to chase a burro, all she'd done was torn her hem again. The dress could be repaired far more easily than the skinned hands and knees that had been almost daily occurrences since they'd left the train.

"It'll be all right," Sarah repeated, rising as gracefully as she could. It will be all right, she told herself, when Austin arrives. The journey that had been more difficult than she had dreamt possible was almost over. Once she and Thea reached Ladreville and the Bar C, the past would truly end. The old Sarah Dobbs would be gone forever.

"Walk?" Thea gave Sarah a look only a curmudgeon could refuse. Sarah was not a curmudgeon. She was a woman whose right leg was protesting the exercise and whose common sense was shouting that she and Thea should not remain in the hot Texas sun. She was also a woman who knew how desperately Thea needed to expend some of her seemingly endless supply of energy.

"A short walk." Sarah smiled as a grin crossed the child's face. It took so little to please Thea. How could anyone have ...? Deliberately, Sarah bit the inside of her cheek. That's all past, she reminded herself. She wouldn't think about the past. Instead, she walked slowly and deliberately, trying to minimize her limp as she looked for the man who held the key to her future.

Where was he? Where was Austin Canfield? Sarah kept a tight grip on Thea's hand as they made their way down the street. Her tumble forgotten, Thea giggled at the sight of oxen with almost unbelievably long horns pulling two-wheeled carts.

There was no denying the differences between this city and Philadelphia. They were as real as the warmth that felt more like midsummer than the last days of winter, as real as the smells of dust and dung and dried leaves. But the greatest difference was sensed rather than seen or heard. There was a contagious vitality about this frontier town. Sarah saw it in the way men swaggered rather than strolled; she heard it in the shouted greetings. Whether they spoke Spanish or English, enthusiasm was evident in every word. Texas was young and brash and exciting. It was everything she sought, or it would be if Austin were here.

But he wasn't. There was no doubt about that, just as there had been no doubt the previous dozen times she had looked for him. Though the center of San Antonio bustled with life, there was no one who fit his description. I'm four inches over six feet, he had written, with sandy hair and blue eyes, and when I see you, I'll be wearing a grin as big as the state of Texas. Sarah had smiled when she had read his words. Texans, she had heard, were prone to exaggeration. She wasn't smiling now. The last of their traveling companions had departed half an hour ago, leaving Sarah and Thea alone, more than a thousand miles and a lifetime away from home. She shook her head slowly, negating her last thought. Philadelphia wasn't home. Not anymore.

"Papa!" Thea tugged Sarah's hand and started to run across the road. Though they hadn't been there a moment ago, two cowboys had emerged from the saloon on the opposite side of the street and were lounging in the doorway.

"No, sweetie." Sarah wrapped her arms around her sister, restraining her. Neither of those men was the new father who had promised to meet them, the man who was now an hour late.

As if they had heard Thea's cry, the cowboys approached Sarah. "Might we be of assistance, ma'am?" Sarah shook her head. When it had been apparent that Austin Canfield wasn't waiting for the stagecoach, the other woman who had traveled with them had advised waiting inside the town hall, which Texans referred to by its Spanish name, cabildo, but Sarah, knowing that Thea would hate being cooped up in yet another small space, had remained outside. She had believed her mourning garb and the presence of a small child at her side would discourage unwanted attention. That had been the case on the train and the stagecoaches. But San Antonio was different. Texans were as friendly as Philadelphians were reserved.

"No, thank you, gentlemen. My fianc will be here momentarily." She hoped it wasn't a lie.

Though the men exchanged amused glances, they retreated. With a sigh of relief, Sarah looked at the clock tower. She would wait for five minutes longer. If Austin hadn't arrived by then, she and Thea would go inside.

Where was he? Sarah looked around for what seemed like the hundredth time, hoping that a tall, sandy-haired rancher would appear. He didn't. She took another deep breath as she considered the reasons he might not have come. Perhaps his horse had gone lame. Perhaps a wheel had fallen off the wagon. Those were possibilities, and they were far more palatable than the alternative. Surely Austin hadn't changed his mind. Surely he hadn't been lying when he'd written those wonderful letters. Surely he wasn't going to abandon her and Thea the way everyone in Philadelphia had. Or was he?

"No, sweetie. No skipping." Though Thea wanted to run, running was one of the things Sarah could not do. Was that the reason Austin was not here? She paused as doubts assailed her. Had Austin reconsidered and realized he had no desire to wed a woman whose right leg was twisted and scarred and an inch shorter than her left?

Sarah reached into her reticule and touched the packet of letters, trying to reassure herself. "You speak of your imperfections as though the rest of us bore no blemishes." There was no need to open the envelopes and withdraw the pages, for she had memorized the words Austin had written, just as she had engraved upon her mind the appearance of the brash handwriting that was somehow at odds with the eloquent phrases. "My dearest Sarah, if there is one thing I have learned, it is that no one is perfect. But you, my sweet wife-to-be, are closer to perfection than you know."

She wasn't perfect. Far from it. Still, her heart had soared with happiness when she'd read that sentence. It was Austin who was perfect, for he had somehow known exactly the right words to woo her. Sarah hadn't expected to be courted. This was, after all, a business arrangement. But there was no denying the fact that she had reveled in Austin Canfield's letters. They had been the one ray of light in those horrible months after Mama and Papa's deaths.

Reverend Lang claimed they were proof that God loved her and was watching over her. Sarah knew otherwise. God had deserted her and so, it appeared, had her bridegroom.

* * *

What else could go wrong? Clay Canfield bit back an oath as he stared at the mare. It wasn't her fault. When he had come into the stable to harness the horses, Clay had discovered Nora ailing. If the fact that instead of greeting...