The Shepherd's Daughter (Dry Bayou Brides Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

it.” There was a wistfulness in her expression that made Billy wonder if Rebecca wasn’t a little…heartbroken.
    But he couldn’t wonder about that now.
    “That’s good to hear, Miss DuCastille.” He hated sounding so formal, especially since they were supposed to be getting to know one another better .
    “Please, call me Rebecca. And I hope that you’ll let me call you Billy.”
    She read my mind!
    He smiled at her willingness to break the all-important courtship rule. “You certainly may, Rebecca .”
    She leaned forward and picked up the cup and saucer, then took another ladylike sip. “So, Billy, tell me what it is you do. Your father has written several letters, detailing your work with breeding stallions, your education—and he spoke of how handsome and well-mannered you were…”
    His pa had done an awful lot of sharing without informing Billy he’d ordered him a wife . Too bad the information he’d shared lacked important details; like how his education was shaped by the scholar Mr. La Fontaine hired to chronicle the inception and progress of Dry Bayou. When the man wasn’t in a small office at The Maison, he was at the ranch teaching Billy reading, writing, and algebra.
    “He did, did he?” Billy finally responded. Why was there a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach?
    “Yes, he did. But, I’d love to learn more about you, straight from the horse’s mouth, as I’ve heard your father say.”
    If his pa had taken so much time and effort to impress this lady on Billy’s behalf, then his father was definitely set on him marrying her.
    Aw-dingit , Ray’s usual exclamation came to mind.
    That sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach dropped right into his boots.

Chapter Four

    R ay rolled over and grumbled, angry at the bright, happy sunlight shining through her bedroom window. She punched her pillow and refused to move from the bed—she had nothing to get up for, though her mother and the sheepherders would disagree.
    There were chores to do. She groaned. Her body still ached from all the work she’d done the day before. And the day before that. Sometimes Ray wondered if she’d ever go back to her carefree life—the one she’d shared with Billy.
    She groaned again, this time at her own stupidity. She and Billy were grown. They had important things to do, responsibilities.
    While the greater part of Dry Bayou Ranch was run by the Ducharmes and their ranch hands, the sheep operation was run by Ray and three caporales , men who once answered to her father. At least, that was until her cousin, Seamus, arrived two months later to take over.
    She flopped onto her back and stared at the rough-wood ceiling, finding little comfort in the knotholes she’d counted endlessly over the years.
    Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…Billy’s gettin’ married.
    It had been her first thought upon waking up because it was her last thought before sleep claimed her the night before. She’d lain awake long after her mother had gone to bed, watching the shadows play in the corners of her room, wondering if Billy were lying awake thinking of his new bride…wanting to marry her or kiss her.
    That thought propelled her from the bed.
    She sat up, threw off the blankets, and made short work of her morning routine. She donned a plain leather skirt, a red plaid shirt, tied a red kerchief around her neck, and pulled on the same old boots she’d been wearing for nigh on three years. They were worn but they did their job—even if they weren’t as pretty as Miss DuCastille’s fine, fawn-brown half boots.
    By the time Ray was dressed and in the kitchen, her mother was placing plates of ham, eggs, and potatoes on the table.
    Despite her physical and mental exhaustion, the scents of breakfast made her mouth water. She forced herself to swallow.
    Ray caught sight of the third plate on the table, the spot where her pa used to sit. Her heart ached.
    Ma refused to deny Pa a place, though he’d been gone for three