The Shepherd's Daughter (Dry Bayou Brides Book 1) (2 page)

Dry Bayou Ranch

Dry Bayou, Texas

1871

“B
illy Ducharme, you
get your good-fer-nothin’ hide down here this instant!” Ray stopped pacing long enough to yell up at the hay loft from outside the large, red barn. “You got to be done with your chores by now, it’s near midday!”

She and Billy were supposed to head down to Clipper’s Creek for the fishing derby and she hated to be late. She didn’t want to miss out on the prize for the biggest trout. She’d won it three years running and she’d be pickled if she lost this year.

Where is that man?
She stood on her tiptoes and rocked back onto her heels, all while balancing her armload of fishing gear.

She’d been looking forward to this day for near six months. She even made sure she woke up a few hours before her usual time in order to get a head start on her daily chores; tending the two ewes who were lambing, mending the fence that was struck by lightning two nights ago, and checking with the gauchos to recount the heads to make sure none of the sheep were missing.

Thankfully, all were accounted for, which meant she didn’t have to go hunting for a wayward ewe—that could’ve taken all day. She didn’t have all day, not if she wanted to get to the derby.

Now, to get Billy moving so they could get going.

The whinny of a horse caught her attention and she stopped moving and stared at the tall, wide doorway that led to the interior of the barn. A bead of sweat slid down her forehead, over the bridge of her nose, and dripped off the end.

“Come on, you’re movin’ slower than molasses and Lord knows I can’t stand the stuff!” She juggled the tackle and poles in her arms and heaved a heavy sigh.

Her sigh of frustration turned to a sigh of appreciation when Billy came into view from around the barn door. He’d pulled his hat from his head and was brushing the straw from it. Ray had to stop herself from staring like a ninny at his rich, chestnut hair, dark brows, and smooth, tanned face.

He was tall, lean, walked like a man who knew his business, and had a face she wouldn’t throw a dead frog at…unless he was cracking a joke about her.

Ray didn’t know when, exactly, her thoughts about Billy Ducharme turned from sweet and annoying little sister-like to mushy and silly and… Well,
not
sweet nor sisterly. But she wasn’t going to let her sudden mental ailment mess up her chance to win the derby.

“There you are. Shake a leg so we can get to the creek before they call the last round.”

Her urgent tone didn’t get him to move any faster. He actually slowed down, slapped his hat back on his head, and gave her a big, too-handsome smile.

She hated it when he smiled like that. She fought to ignore the melting sensation in the pit of her stomach and growled at him. “Don’t you dare, Willem!” She only ever used his full Christian name when she was annoyed at him.

He only smiled bigger and walked slower.

She narrowed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from yelling at him again—it wouldn’t be proper to yell the things she wanted to say to Billy at this moment.

By the time he stood before her, looking down into her overwarm face with a mischievous grin and glimmering blue eyes, she was fuming—’bout ready to toss the fishing poles on the ground and wallop him.

“Whoa there, Ray. You’ve got to learn patience one of these days or you’re liable to get so worked up you’ll have a fit.” Ray held her breath. “Now, if you had a fit and fell to the ground like a startled heifer, I’d have to sell tickets. Lots of folks ’round here would pay good money to see that.” He laughed, his deep chuckle breaking through the cloud in her head.

“Why you—” she reached out to slap his arm, but dropped her armload of fishing supplies, instead. “Ugh!” she called out in frustration, staring down at the now scattered and tangled lines, poles, and bobbers.

Chuckling louder, Billy stepped closer. Ray stopped moving, thinking, breathing—he was much too close for comfort.

His brilliant blue gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth, where it stayed for a second, then it lowered to her hands that she’d just braced on her hips. “You sure know how to make a mess of things, don’t you,
Baby Ray
?” He looked at her face then, but his eyes were a darker blue this time. His voice seemed deeper than usual, too.

Ray didn’t like the confounding nickname he’d given her nearly fourteen years ago. He only used it when he wanted to get her good and flustered.

It worked every time.

“You know I don’t like it when you call me that—” She repositioned her skirt and stooped quickly to get away from Billy’s crooked smile and the strange sensations his attention stirred inside her. She fumbled to gather all the gear she’d dropped.

Why are my hands so shaky?

When Billy squatted to help, Ray couldn’t help but look at the muscles bunching and flexing in his thighs as he moved to grab at the loose bobbers that had rolled from the tackle box. She closed her eyes against the urge to look some more and nearly jumped from her skin when she felt something soft brush across her cheek.

Billy let out a bark of laughter and held up a feathered bobber. “You sure are jumpy. Maybe you need to take a tea with Ma instead of heading down to the derby.”

Billy’s ma was the prettiest and most dignified of ladies. She never failed to make Ray feel a little…less than female. Mrs. Ducharme was all fine dresses, fine manners, and genteel talk—nothing like Ray. Though the older woman didn’t mean to, she could make Ray feel like a bump on the back of a horned lizard whenever she was around.

“Nah, I don’t need tea, I need to win the prize for the biggest trout. And if we don’t get down to the creek in a quick minute, I’ll get right mad at you, Willem Ducharme.”

He smiled again, only two feet from her, where they still were gathering her fishing odds and ends.

“I don’t know…” his gaze slowly moved from her eyes, to her mouth again, and then back up to her eyes. “I think I like you mad.”

She didn’t know what happened in that second, but the expression on his face made her stand quickly, hoping to put some distance between them. She was saved from total humiliation by a voice calling out from behind her.

“You two still here?” It was Mrs. Ducharme. “Oh, good, I was hoping you hadn’t left yet, dear,” she said to Billy as she glided forward, holding the skirt of her dress in one hand so it didn’t drag in the dirt.

Ray didn’t need to turn to know Billy had come to stand beside her. She could feel the heat from his body radiate into her, could sense his strength and male presence thrumming in the air around her, and she could smell his musky, sun-soaked scent, even over the ripe smell of horseflesh and fresh hay that ambushed them from the barn.

Recently, she discovered she preferred Billy’s scent over the smell of fresh-baked pie or any of the fancy French perfumes Mrs. Ducharme kept trying to get her to wear.

She sucked in a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and willed her mind to focus on the lady before her, not the man beside her.

“Did you need something, Ma?” Billy asked, his manners as clean and crisp as his ma taught him.

Mrs. Ducharme patted Billy on the cheek, her love for him evident. “Can you come to the house and…well…there’s a rodent in the trap, and…”

Billy nodded.

“Of course, Ma, I’ll get rid of it for you.” He smiled at her, no annoyance in his voice or expression. “Where’s Pa? He could’ve done it for you.”

Ray didn’t dare pipe up and mention that Eva, the cook, could’ve easily emptied the trap. It was her kitchen, after all.

Ray grumbled at the thickening red, purple, and orange swathes in the sky that indicated the sun was setting. It was getting later and later, but she couldn’t begrudge Billy helping his ma. She wouldn’t know what to do with a dead mouse and wouldn’t dirty her hands with the thing even if she did.

“Oh, he went into town a few hours ago. He should be home soon, but I wanted to make sure the rodent was gone before…before—well, before he got home.” Ray raised her eyebrows at the other woman’s less than eloquent answer. She’d never heard the woman stutter before and, apparently, neither had Billy.

“Okay, Ma.” Perfect son Willem rarely said no to his ma. While that could sometimes frustrate Ray to no end, she kind of liked that he treated his momma like a queen.

It meant that maybe one day, he’d treat Ray that way, too.

She kicked that thought out of her head.

She didn’t want him to treat her like anything more than a better shot, a better fisherman, and a better frog catcher. That’s it. Ray wasn’t a queen, so why had her heart shuddered a bit at the image of Billy bowing before her, his blue eyes gazing up at her, devotion and adoration on his face…

She must’ve been stuck in that silly fantasy a little longer than she thought, because by the time she looked up, Billy wasn’t there any longer.

He’d begun walking toward the house with his ma and called over his shoulder, “I’ll be back, promise. I just need to help Ma. Then, we can head to the creek and get you that trout.” His smile made Ray forget all about the derby.

Realization of her current circumstances hit her like a cold fish to the face.

“
Aw-dingit
, I’ll never get to that derby in time.” She let out an exasperated huff and kicked at the dust casting dirt over the pile of fishing gear she and Billy had gathered. Though she could leave Billy behind and go on alone, the thought took the fun right out of it.

That very first day they met, Billy had become a part of her.

Billy, her childhood friend, a man she’d thought of as a brother since the first time she’d arrived at the ranch and asked him to go frog hunting. Now, she and Billy were well grown with responsibilities and duties, much to Ray’s disappointment most days. But they still took time to hunt, shoot cans off the fence behind the barn, and sneak pie and sweet tea from the kitchen when the fancy Creole cook, Eva, wasn’t looking.

She laughed at the memories. But her laughter stopped when she thought about Billy crouched next to her two minutes ago, staring at her with eyes bluer than the sky and a smile no man on earth should possess.

Was it wrong to want him to kiss her?

She shook her head, hating herself for thinking about her best friend in such a way.

How humiliating would that have been? Or, how wonderful?

Yep, Billy had been her “brother” and best friend for nearly fourteen years…so why was she suddenly feeling so…
different
about him?

She didn’t like it, not one bit.

B
illy tossed the
dead mouse over the back fence a few yards from the main house, then walked back to the rear door through his ma’s garden.

While not particularly fond of getting her clothes dirty, Ma still enjoyed planting and harvesting her own vegetables.

The Ducharme vegetable garden consisted of eight neat sixteen-foot-long rows of tilled dark soil. There were carrots, onions, potatoes, peas, beans, and fragrant pepper bushes.

As an only child, Billy had spent a lot of time with his ma. He knew when things weren’t quite right with her.

Like now.

He entered the house and watched as his mother bustled about, tidying up one thing after another, but not much in the house needed cleaning.

“Ma, what’s going on? Where’s Pa?”

Visibly tensing, she stopped, then straightened her shoulders and turned to look at him. She failed to meet his gaze. “He’s in town. I told you that, son.”

He frowned, somewhat perplexed by her behavior, especially her inability to look him in the eyes. She’d never been one to back down or cower.

This was new and he didn’t like it.

“Ma…” He stepped closer. It was unlike her to hide anything. “Please tell me. It’s not like you to keep secrets from me.”

She looked at him then and he read panic in her eyes. “Oh, son, I’m not trying to keep secrets…it’s just that…well, your father…” She held her breath and closed her eyes, probably to build her courage for what she would say next.

Dread rose in his throat.

“Pa? What about Pa?”

Enough of this.

“Ma,
what is wrong with Pa
?”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Willem Daniel Ducharme.”

Feeling chastised, yet glad his mother’s spirit had returned, he hid a smile behind a polite cough. “Sorry, Ma.”

She didn’t acknowledge he’d spoken. “Well, if you really must know, your father is in town picking up…something. Something important. For you.”

“Something for me? What could that be? I don’t need anything,” he said, somewhat exasperated.

“Oh, yes you do! You need a wife.” Her outburst must’ve surprised her as much as him, because she gasped and covered her mouth.

He blinked. “What do you mean,
wife
?” A rustling noise from outside the dining room window caught his attention. When he didn’t hear it again, he assumed it was the wind and waited for his mother’s response.

The sound of a wagon coming up the drive stopped her before she could answer and Billy felt all his blood leave his face.