The Shepherd's Daughter (Dry Bayou Brides Book 1) (12 page)

Oh, how she’d dreamt of having that for herself.

But it wasn’t meant to be. Because a shepherd’s daughter had no hope of becoming a lady and, certainly, no hope of being loved by Willem Ducharme.

Goodness, how she missed her pa. It was because of him she’d met Billy in the first place. He’d read the advert in the newspaper from a ranch owner in Texas looking for someone to run a new sheep operation. He’d been hired and had moved the whole family west. Ray fell in love with Texas…and the shy little boy who’d never been frog hunting before.

A little chuckle slipped out, but a mournful sob followed.

“What am I gonna do?” she whispered, the words painful, the emotions raw and real.

The whinny of a horse made her turn. Billy ambled down the pathway to the clearing. He was still dressed in his party finery and he had the look of a man with purpose.

Was he coming to tell her that he and Rebecca were engaged?

She fought back another sob and wiped her eyes, praying he wouldn’t notice she’d been crying.

Ray listened as Billy approached, the soft crunch of the gravel beneath his boot heels as he crossed the clearing and then stopped right behind the rock she sat on.

“You’re making a habit of missing our meetings, Ray.” His deep voice held a teasing tone that played along her spine like a finely tuned fiddle.

She didn’t respond, only continued kicking her feet out over the deep spot in the creek.

“Why didn’t you come to the gazebo? You promised to come.”

Ray felt him step onto the rock.

“I didn’t think it proper to meet a married man alone in the garden at night.” That was somewhat true.

He squatted behind her, his knees brushing her back. She closed her eyes and tried to stay still, though what she wanted to do was lean back and let his warmth envelope her.

“I’m not married, Ray, at least not yet.”

She needed to go home, pack her bags, and leave Dry Bayou for good.

Billy rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Darling…why are you trying to run from me? You used to run
to
me, used to spend hours beside me, talking and laughing… I miss that, Ray.” He leaned forward and Ray could feel the heat of his chest against her back.

“I miss
you
, love.”

A sob of stark pain fell from her mouth. “But you’re gettin’ married and that means no more talkin’ or laughin’ or nothin’. It’s time that you and I parted ways. If not for Rebecca, then for me.”

Unable to contain her emotions, she jumped up, ready to leave. Billy blocked her path, but she jammed her shoulder into his chest and tried to force her way through.

“Stop it, Ray, just stop. Listen to me.” He gripped both of her shoulders and pulled her into a firm hug. “Listen to me.”

She tried to pull her face away, to look up at him, to try to make sense of everything happening, but he hasn’t willing to give an inch.

“Willem Ducharme, you let go of me this instant!”

“Never. Darling. I’m never letting go of you, Ray.”

“Stop calling me darlin’! I’m not your darlin’. I can’t be. And why do you say you’ll never let me go? You know I can’t stay here, not with you gettin’ married to Rebecca.”

He pulled back and looked down at her with a confused expression.

“And don’t you worry about me,” Ray continued valiantly. “My cousin, Seamus, is comin’ in from Baltimore to take over the sheep so my ma doesn’t have to shoulder everythin’ once I’m gone.”

As close as she was to him, she actually felt him stop breathing.

“What do you mean,
once you’re gone
? Where are you going?”

She tipped her chin. “I’m leavin’ on the first stagecoach to San Antonio in the mornin’. Then I’ll take the train to Boston. I can make a livin’ there as a store clerk.”

“No! You’re not going anywhere.” The strength of his outburst rocked Ray back on her heels.

Angry that he’d think to deny her the one thing that would bring her peace, she glared up at him and poked her finger into his chest.

“Now see here, Willem Ducharme. I know you think you own me because I am just the shepherd’s daughter, but I have my own life. I aim to live it away from you, away from your blessed life with Rebecca, and away from all the pain I’d have to endure watchin’ you love someone else.” A traitorous sob escaped. “I can’t do it, Billy. I thought I could win you by becomin’ the lady you wanted, the woman who could make you laugh, make you think, the woman you’d long to come home to every day, the woman who you could love… But I’m not. And it hurts so bad.”

Billy caressed her cheek. She couldn’t help but press her face into it. He tipped her head back so she had to look into his eyes.

“Who told you about all that?” His voice was like velvet, wrapping her up in smooth comfort.

“Rebecca.” She answered truthfully.

He nodded thoughtfully. “And you thought I was talking about her?”

Ray blinked in confusion. “Of course. She is the one you love, after all.”

Billy stroked his thumbs along her face, then caressed her lips tenderly. “No, Baby Ray. I was talking about you.”

“What?” She couldn’t have possibly heard him right.

“I was talking about
you
. You are the one I long to come home to every day, the one who makes me laugh, makes me think. You are the one I need to touch, to hear…need to kiss.”

Ray didn’t have a moment to think before Billy’s lips were on hers. In a single moment, Ray’s whole world exploded with delicious heat.

It was the best feeling she’d ever experienced. She moaned and pressed into him, trying to climb into his body, into his heart and mind and never let him go. He slanted his head and kissed her harder, his breaths coming in hot blasts, his heart beating so hard she could feel it within her own chest.

Billy lifted his head, ending the kiss. He still cradled her face between both hands, the promise of more pleasure in his eyes.

“I love you, Ray. I think I’ve loved you since that first moment when you stuck out your hand in greeting and told me that Raychelle sounded
uppity
.”

A laughed bubbled up through the tension in her body.

I love you…
that’s what he’d said.

“Say those words again,” she said, still unwilling to believe he’d said them.

He smiled down at her, then planted a kiss on her nose. “I love you, Ray, my darling.”

She laughed again, this time it sang with joy. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course!”

She still couldn’t believe it. “But what about Rebecca—I saw you kissin’ her at the gazebo. I overheard two of the old biddies at the party sayin’ you were gonna propose to Rebecca tonight.”

“I wasn’t kissing Rebecca; she was kissing me goodbye.”

“You mean you broke it off with her and she was just kissin’ you goodbye?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“What about you tellin’ your ma you were proposin’ to Rebecca tonight.”

“Shoot, she overheard me talking to myself about how I was going to tell you I love you tonight.”

Ray felt her knees wobble a little as his words sank in again.

“It was a misunderstanding. One I will discuss with my mother later. But right now…” He pulled her back into his arms.

“I only want to hold you, Ray—”

“Ray, the
shepherd’s daughter
.” She couldn’t help teasing him, especially after he’d bungled his introducing her to Rebecca.

“No, Ray, the
rancher’s wife
.”

A big, probably dopey-looking smile split her face. “I
really
like the sound of that.” She giggled, the joy within her, no longer capable of being contained. “I love you, Willem Ducharme.”

He kissed her and she kissed him back. Long minutes passed with only the sound of the babbling creek in the background.

They stood there, two hearts woven together with strands of hope, joy, and love. Ray didn’t think a more perfect moment could ever exist.

Nothing could make that moment any better.

Except…

Ray looked up at Billy and arched an eyebrow in challenge. “You wanna go frog huntin’?”

“W
ell, don’t you
look like the cat that ate the cream?” Dora Mosier teased as she brought the tea tray into the drawing room.

Ray offered a sly, satisfied smile. “I should. I’m plannin’ my weddin’.” She giggled, still reeling from the reality that, within two months’ time, she was marrying the man she loved.

Tilly followed her sister into the room and smiled at Ray. “Guess what?” She shined with excitement. “I found that material you wanted for your dress and it will be delivered here at the end of the month. That means I can make you the dress of your dreams.”

Ray clapped her hands. “You know, Tilly, you really should consider openin’ your own dress shop. You do such a great job on all our dresses. You have a better hand with a needle than Doc Bartlett.”

Tilly looked at Ray with the most curious expression on her dear face. “You know, I never thought of it.” She tapped her chin and Ray could see the greased wheels turning in Tilly’s head. “I think you’re right. I’ve been saving up the money my parents have been giving me for the lace they sell in their store. I might have enough to rent that little store space at the end of First Street. I pass by there all the time on my walks, so I know ladies will see it and stop in.”

Ray jumped up and hugged Tilly, her dearest friend and maid of honor. “That’s wonderful news about that store, Tilly. It makes this day all the more blessed.” Ray sighed and returned to her seat, then picked up the catalog she’d been leafing through looking for the perfect ribbons for the bouquets.

Tilly sat beside her. “Why, what else has happened today?”

“Besides Billy’s parents givin’ us their blessin’?” Ray grinned.

Tilly smiled. “That’s great news. Honestly, I thought you’d have to hog tie them to get them to the wedding.”

Ray nodded. “When Billy told them we were gettin’ married, his ma near had a fit right in the foyer, but after a long talk about how much we love one another and how we’d build a future together, they were
persuaded
.”

Tilly snorted. “You mean the thought of having grandbabies persuaded them.”

Ray blushed. “True…” Mrs. Ducharme never kept it a secret that she wanted her only son to get married and give her dozens of grandchildren to spoil. “But that isn’t the only good thing that happened today.” Ray dropped the catalog she’d been holding and picked up the letter Billy had given her that morning. “Billy got this letter from Hank Bartlett.”

At the mention of Hank’s name, Tilly visibly recoiled. “Hank Bartlett? Hank “The Bully” Bartlett?” Tilly couldn’t seem to comprehend what Ray had said. Ray watched as Tilly raised her hand and began rubbing a small, white, crescent-shaped scar over her left temple.

“Yes, the same. Why do you seem so troubled?”

Dora laughed. “Tilly’s having trouble with that bit of news, because she and Hank weren’t the best of friends growin’ up.”

That snapped Tilly from her silence. “Friends? Me and that—that
hooligan
, we weren’t even
close
to being friends. That boy was a nuisance! Always calling me “Teacakes Tilly” because he caught me sneaking tea cakes when I was seven. Ever since then, he pestered me, poked fun at me, and called me all sorts of names.”

Tilly’s face burned a bright red and Ray knew that what she had to say next would make things worse for her friend.

“Well, I’m sorry you had so much trouble with him when we were kids, but he’s been gone almost six years now. Maybe he’s changed.”

Something in Ray’s voice must have tipped Tilly off, because her friend’s blue-eyed gaze sharpened. “What’s going on, Ray?”

“He’s comin’ home in a few weeks. Actually, that’s what his letter says and that was sent nearly ten days ago…”

Tilly gasped.

“And Billy’s sendin’ a telegram askin’ him to be his best man.”

Tilly turned an alarming shade of red before sputtering curses Ray had never heard the usually sweet-tempered girl say.

Whatever happened between Hank and Tilly must’ve been
somethin’
.

Ray let Tilly cool off a bit before she said, “Seems to me like you and Hank have some unfinished business. If you’d rather Billy pick someone else for his best man—”

“No, no! I can’t let you do that.” Tilly swallowed. “That won’t be necessary. Billy should have whoever he wants in his wedding.”

Ray watched the color rise in her friend’s face. “Uh, huh.”

“Believe me, I can handle one man. How difficult can it really be?”

Ray fought the urge to smile. How difficult, indeed?

The End

Lynn Winchester is one of the pseudonyms of a hardworking California-born caffeine addict, now living in the wilds of Northeast Pennsylvania. Lynn has been writing fiction since the 5th grade, and enjoys creating worlds, characters, and stories for her readers.

When Lynn isn’t writing sweet historical romances, she is writing spicy paranormal romance as Jackson D’Lynne, and YA Sci-Fi/Thrillers as DJ Sorber. When she isn’t writing at all, she is running a successful editing business, reading whatever she can get her hands on, raising her four children, making sure her husband is happy, and binge watching shows on Netflix.