Katriona’s Keeper: Alphabet Mail-Order Brides #11
A Dry Bayou Brides Novella
Lynn Winchester
Copyright © 2019 by Lynn Winchester
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover designed by: EDH Professionals
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
About the Author
Leanna’s Light Intro
Also by Lynn Winchester
To my family, in blood and love. I would be nothing without you.
Prologue
The Wigg School and Foundling Home
New York City, New York
Katriona Wigg stared down at the periodical in her lap, her mouth agape.
What was she supposed to do?
“Katriona, you’re going to catch flies,” her sister, Mia, said, a grin on her face. Katriona snapped her mouth shut and glared, teasingly, at the gentle beauty beside her. Out of all her sisters, she and Mia were the closest. It helped that Mia was so different from her; sweet, timid, thoughtful… It wasn’t that Katriona wasn’t thoughtful, she was just a little less…soft than everyone else. Madame Wigg called it “toughness,” but Katriona thought of it as pragmatism.
“You really ought to actually look at the thing,” Mia continued, pointing at the Bride’s Gazette Katriona was holding like it was made of bees.
“Well, you know I wouldn’t even bother if Madame Wigg didn’t get the fool idea to send us all off to get married.”
Mia sighed, clasping her hands in her lap. “Katriona, that’s not fair. She only wants to make sure we’re taken care of once…” A whimper escaped her sister’s lips. “Once she’d gone.”
Duly chastised, Katriona placed a hand on Mia’s shoulder. “I know, darling. I just… I just wish this wasn’t happening at all.”
Just that morning, after breakfast, when the teachers were given a little time before lessons to prepare for the day, Madame Wigg called them into her private parlor. She told them she was sick, dying, and that she wanted each of them—Jessamine, Katriona, Leanna, and Mia—to start their own lives outside of the school. She offered each of them a ridiculous amount of money to start their own schools elsewhere. With one catch…they each had to find themselves a groom first. And that meant rifling through the Bride’s Gazette and playing eeny-meeny until they picked the groom least likely to make them a self-made widow.
I just have to do what needs to be done. That had always been her way; do what needs doing. That was why she taught the students life skills, skills they would need once they were out on their own, in the big world. Cooking, sewing, bookkeeping, and keeping house.
Straightening her shoulders, she went back to the task of husband hunting. Each one of the grooms in the Gazette were too old, too ugly, too slick, or too dull…
A black and white picture of a man with overlong hair, a hard, angular face, and sharp, penetrating eyes jumped out at her. Her breath caught. He was as handsome as sin, even if he wasn’t smiling. Her eyes returning to the eyes staring back at her, she wondered what color they were. They looked light, piercing, like they could see through the skin right to the bones.
She read the ad, her gaze landing on the name of the town.
“Dry Bayou…”
“Dry Bayou?” Leanna repeated as she swept into the room and plopped down on the bed next to Mia.
Katriona remembered reading about the booming Texas town in a periodical. “Isn’t that the town in Texas where they had the audacity to hire a married teacher?”
Mia gasped dramatically, pressing her hand to her chest. “Good heavens, what were they thinking, assuming a married woman was just as good as an unmarried one? For shame!”
Katriona giggled, both tickled and amused by her usually demure sister.
“Well, that is interesting,” Katriona reined in her humor to remark. “If they hired a married teacher, maybe they’d look kindly on another married teacher starting a whole new type of school…” Suddenly, Katriona’s imagination took off at a gallop.
For the last five years, Katriona kept going back to the same idea; a school specifically for teaching life skills and basic trades. Sewing, cooking, even blacksmithing, carpentry, gardening—all things city kids never had the chance to learn. She could build that kind of school in Texas. Her heart soared at the thought of actually fulfilling her dream.
“What’re you thinking over there?” Leanna asked, her face pinched in confusion. “I can smell the smoke.”
Katriona waved away her sister’s words, her mind weaving together the beginnings of a plan.
“I think I’d better get to writing this fellow so no one else gets a chance to snag that bit of perfect.”
Katriona didn’t miss the look Mia gave Leanna, but she didn’t have time to wonder what the two of them were thinking. She needed ink, pen, and paper.
Jessamine entered the room, huffing. She looked a little frayed at the edges, which was a surprise; Jessamine was always so serene, put together. Out of all the ladies at Madame Wigg’s you’d never see Jessamine with a hair out of place or a sour look on her face. Katriona wondered what had made her dear sister so…rumpled.
Before she could ask, though, Jessamine slid a hand over her dark hair to make sure it was as it should be, then offered them all a smile. “I see you have finally chosen your future husband,” she said, pointing at the Bride’s Gazette crumpled in Katriona’s careless grasp.
Grumbling, Katriona smoothed out the periodical and flipped the page back to the ad she’d been reading when her thoughts started spinning.
“Yes, I guess I have,” she answered, handing the Gazette to Jessamine so she could read it.
Ranch foreman, Horace Tucker of Dry Bayou, Texas, seeks a bride of 19-25 years, with a strong back, kind smile, and a desire for a home of her own. Must like horses, can’t be afraid of a little hard work, and must appreciate a man who wants to take care of her.
“Hmmm,” Jessamine hummed, tapping a delicate finger against her chin. “You sure he’s the right one?”
Mia smothered a laugh, but Katriona didn’t see what was so funny.
“What do you mean? I have a strong back, I can smile, and I’m not afraid of hard work or horses,” Katriona retorted.
Jessamine nodded, her pale face going pink in the cheeks.
“Well, dearest, I was thinking more about the ‘appreciate a man who wants to take care of her’ part.”
Katriona looked from one sister to the other, all of them staring at her with knowing gazes.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I can appreciate a man who…who…” She was stumped. In all her twenty-two years, she’d never known a man to help her do anything, and so she’d done it herself. She hadn’t seen the need to be taken care of, and she didn’t see why that had to change once she was married.
“That�
�s the problem, Katriona,” Mia interjected. “You have been so strong and so self-driven, you can’t see that there are things you can’t do on your own. Things that a man can do for you…like protect you, provide for you—”
“I can to those things myself,” Katriona argued, her back stiff.
Mia heaved a sigh. “Katriona…one day, you’ll have to let someone in, and that someone is going to love you and want to keep you safe and happy.”
Snorting, an unladylike thing Madame Wigg had remarked upon at length, Katriona stared down at the image of Horace Tucker, his handsome, unsmiling face staring back at her. Something within her pinched, making her stomach twist.
Annoyed by her sisters’ lack of faith in her, she murmured, “I don’t need a keeper.”
Chapter One
Dry Bayou Ranch
Dry Bayou, Texas
One month later…
Horace “Race” Tucker—though he hated the name Horace with a searing passion—tucked a strand of hair behind his ear—for the hundredth time that day, it seemed like. The boss’s wife kept on him about cutting it, but he couldn’t bring himself to part with something he’d been growing for the last five years. Sure, his hair was longer than some women’s, but he didn’t plait it or stick flowers in it. He left it as it was, hanging down to just below his shoulder blades.
He was dressed in his best suit, his cleanest, shiniest boots, and a brand-new hat—all so he could impress the woman he was meeting and marrying that afternoon. He checked his reflection in the mirror beside the bunkhouse door, straightening his string tie and flicking a few pieces of loose hay from his collar. He shouldn’t have gone to check the horses while wearing his nicest shirt, but he’d wanted to make sure Lily hadn’t given birth yet. That mare was just about fit to burst, and he needed to be there when she did. Billy Ducharme, his boss and the owner of the ranch, counted on his ranch foreman to make sure his investments were sound.
Speak of the Devil…
Billy opened the door and stepped inside, his gaze landing on Race. He grinned.
“You ready to get hitched?” he asked, humor in his voice.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suspect,” he answered, slapping his hat in place on his head and taking one last look at himself.
Billy’s grin grew to encompass his sun-weathered face. He wasn’t much older than Race, but he’d spent so much time outdoors, it had taken its toll. Not that Billy’s wife, Ray, cared much. Billy and Ray were one of the several couples that had driven Race into the arms of holy matrimony. Seeing them together, happy, content, being a family…it made him yearn for what they had…for what his parents had.
“You best be ready, Race, cause Ray is rarin’ to get to town—and besides that, this was your idea. I hope you aren’t experiencing second thoughts, not with your bride arriving today.”
Stepping from the bunkhouse, Race tipped his head and squinted at Billy through the bright afternoon sunlight. Race didn’t need Billy to remind him of his imminent nuptials, he’d been awake all night thinking about it. About meeting his future wife for the first time, about pledging to cherish, protect, and provide for, for the rest of his life.
He wasn’t scared—commitment had never scared him—he was excited, anxious, and a little thrilled.
Today.
Today was the day his new life began, and he was fairly aflame with the thought.
“I’m ready, though, I don’t understand why Ray is rarin’, she ain’t the one gettin’ married,” Race said, a smirk on his face.
Billy snorted, raising his face to the sky as if praying for patience—and the man needed patience to maintain his sanity around that wild, brassy, energetic wife of his. Ray was all fiery red-hair, sass, and energy, and she was as close to a sister as Race’d ever had. Matter of fact, she reminded him a lot of his ma.
“Ray loves the idea of a mail-order bride for her favorite ranch foreman. She’s as excited to meet her new friend as you are to meet your new wife. Also, she’s quite proud that you asked us to stand up as witnesses for your ceremony.”
Race began striding for the stable where his horse, Twister, was saddled and waiting for him.
“Who else would I ask? You two are like family to me. Where would I be if you hadn’t decided to take a chance on a wet behind the ears ranch hand from a small northwestern town? I’d probably be layin’ railroad, breaking my back, and livin’ from camp to camp without anywhere to plant my roots. I certainly wouldn’t be in the position to get myself a wife.”
He’d been working for the Ducharmes for five years, making a good living, and saving more than he used. He lived in the bunkhouse, didn’t spend needlessly, and now he had the money to buy a plot of land right outside of town and build a new home for him and his wife.
Billy tipped his hat and climbed up into the surrey he and Ray were taking into town.
“Maybe you should be taking the surrey,” Billy suggested. “You’ll be in need of a ride for Mrs. Tucker…unless you plan to strap her to Twister’s arse end.”
Race snickered, trying not to think about the way the words Mrs. Tucker had made his belly flip. “That would be one heck of a wedding night.”
Wedding night. He swallowed his anxiety, his smile falling from his mouth. He was a red-blooded man, of course he thought about the wedding night. But he’d thought of it in terms of a far-off event that may or may not happen. But now, he knew the probability of lying in bed beside a willing woman was about as high as getting his shiny boots dusty on the trip into town. It shook him like nothing else—that and the idea of having someone to have and hold. Ever since he was a young boy, old enough to know what responsibility was and what it meant, he’d been drawn to the idea of finding that one woman he could watch over, care for, grow old with. Like his pa did for his ma.
The Tuckers were an institution in Porter’s Grove, Washington, and they were this example of what marriage was supposed to be. A partnership, one in which he was the provider and protector. The idea made the blood in his veins surge, pushing the anxiety down and driving the excitement up.
“You don’t think Ray’ll mind riding in the wagon?” Race asked, coming to stand beside the surrey to look up at Billy.
“Course she won’t,” Ray replied as she strode toward them, her hair in a wild braid, and her leather skirt kicking up dust with every hurried step. She was a walking firecracker. “You take the surrey so your wife has somewhere nice to sit once you two are man and wife. Also, Ma wanted me to tell you the Shepherd House is all ready for you.”
Nodding, he waited for Billy to jump down before he took his spot on the seat in the surrey.
“Tell your ma, much obliged. I couldn’t very well bring my new wife to live with me in the bunkhouse.” The Shepherd House was really a small two-bedroom cabin where Ray and her ma, Moira, and then Moira and Ray’s cousin, Seamus had lived before Ray and then Seamus got hitched. Moira, tired of living in the cabin so far from the main house, decided to build her own home closer so that she could be with her grandbabies—Hannah and Avery—as often as she wanted.
Race knew he really should have spent more time on building the house he’d been thinking of for the last two years, since the itch for matrimony had begun. Now, he was waiting on getting the land he’d been aching for before settling in to build the home where he would raise his family.
Again, his blood surged; the idea of being a father made his chest ache. He believed he’d make a good father—not as good as his own pa—but he’d do his danged best.
He just hoped Miss Katriona Wigg was as excited and eager to start her life as his wife as he was to start his life as her husband.
The trip into town consisted of him following behind Billy and Ray—them in the wagon, and him in the surrey—while he rehearsed what he was going to say to his new bride. He remembered what she’d written in her one and only letter to him. She’d remarked that she didn’t like writing letters because anything worth saying was worth saying face to face. He c
ouldn’t disagree. Her pragmatism was refreshing; he’d feared he’d end up married to a woman who had her head in the clouds, her wishes in the stars, and her heart too fanciful for a man of earth and labor. A pragmatic woman who didn’t mind hard work and letting a man lead was exactly the kind of woman he wanted, everything else was just icing on the cake. Not that he’d eaten much cake, but he was looking forward to starting, since his new wife had boasted about being a life skills teacher—whatever that was. She said she was the cook of the family, that her sisters and benefactor had fairly drooled over her holiday candied yams. He needed to remember to build a big kitchen in their new house…once he got around to building it.
Before he knew it, they were pulling into town, familiar faces smiling at him as he rode by. He waved to a few of the folks he knew from his infrequent trips into town for supplies. Most of the time, he’d take his rest and relaxation time to just sit out back of the bunkhouse, chew a bit of tobacco, and mutter ‘bout nothing with men he’d worked all week with.
When they reached the stagecoach station, Billy helped Ray from the wagon, and Race tied the surrey to a post across the street. Sucking in a breath, he tidied his clothes, repositioned his hat, and walked across Main Street to step up onto the platform where the stagecoach passengers arrived and departed.
“Well, looks like we made it here before her stagecoach did,” Ray said, her expressive face shining with excitement. “That means you have time to go get your hair cut.” She grinned lopsidedly.
Billy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t go listening to her, Race. What if your future wife likes a man with flowing locks?”
Katriona’s Keeper: Alphabet Mail-Order Brides #11: A Dry Bayou Brides Novella Page 1