The Seamstress (Dry Bayou Brides Book 2)

  The Seamstress

  Dry Bayou Brides

  Book Two

  Lynn Winchester

  Copyright © 2016 by Lynn Winchester

  Kindle Edition

  Published by Dragonblade Publishing, an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  For Naomi and Ruth

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Dry Bayou Community Church

  Dry Bayou, Texas

  1859

  “Ooo, Tilda Mosier, I saw you take those sweet cakes!” Hank Bartlett stood at the back door of the church with his hands on his hips and a mean grin on his face.

  Tilly hid the evidence of her crime behind her skirts and narrowed her eyes at the rotten little cuss. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a lady like that. It’s rude.” Only four years older than she was, he thought he was in charge of everything.

  He snorted. “You ain’t no lady. You’re not supposed to take nothin’ off the table until Reverend Marcus says the blessin’.”

  “You didn’t see anything.” Tilly thrust her chin into the air, stuck out her tongue, and shoved the cakes into her mouth.

  He gasped and Tilly couldn’t help but smile devilishly.

  She chewed loudly and made all the appropriate noises of appreciation.

  Hank pointed a grubby finger at her. “I’m gonna tell on you—Tilly Teacakes. Teacakes Tilly!” He threw back his head and laughed at his own cleverness.

  “Teacakes Tilly. Teacakes Tilly!” he chanted as though it were the newest song in the hymnal.

  The last thing she needed was for him to give her a horrible nickname. “You wouldn’t dare, Henry Bartlett. I know it was you I saw putting mud in Mrs. Piers’ pie.”

  That’ll keep his big mouth shut.

  Hank grinned unapologetically. “It’s called mud pie. It should have mud in it. I didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Besides, who’s gonna believe a tubby teacake stealer with crumbs all over her fat face?”

  Tilly had heard all his insults before. Hank wasn’t a very creative bully. But no matter how many times she’d heard him say, tubby, fat, chunker, pig, or stuffed ewe, it hurt.

  The heat of shame and anger rose over her ears. “Oh yeah? I know your daddy will believe me when I tell him what you did.” Hank’s father was Doctor Bartlett, a man everyone seemed to like.

  Tilly squared her shoulders, then moved to step around Hank and out the door that led to the churchyard where parishioners were gathering for the Sunday potluck. She’d head straight to Dr. Bartlett and tattle on Hank. She didn’t bother hiding her satisfied grin as she sneered into his gray-blue eyes.

  “You can tell whoever you want. You can’t prove anythin’.”

  “Oh, I think your daddy will believe me when he sees the dirt and chocolate all over your filthy hands.”

  Hank snorted but then put out his hands to inspect them. When he saw the large, sticky smudges of chocolatey sludge, he turned bright red.

  Tilly couldn’t stop the giggle. She was finally getting the best of Hank Bartlett and it felt good.

  “Don’t you dare, Teacakes Tilly!” he squawked.

  She ran for the door, but Hank reached out and snatched one of her long braids, yanking her back. She yelped in pain. “Ow, Hank, you big bully. What did you do that for?” Refusing to let him see her cry, she bit back the tears.

  “I told you, you can’t tell my daddy—”

  Tilly dashed toward the door again. But Hank yanked harder than Tilly expected, pulling her toward him so he could wipe his hands on her dress.

  Stains now covered the front of her brand new Sunday dress. She’d spent hours helping her mother cut, sew, stitch, and embroider that dress. It was her favorite.

  Tilly opened her mouth to scream. Hank’s eyes went wide in panic, right before he shoved her backward into the piano bench.

  Struggling to stay upright, she tripped on the hem of her skirt. She slammed her head against the corner of the piano and crumbled into a heap, unconscious.

  Chapter One

  The Corner of First Street and Main

  Dry Bayou, Texas

  1871

  Tilly smiled at the warm feeling of accomplishment she felt. She tucked her newest and most precious possession, a novel by H.B. Dillinger, into her handbag and continued to her final destination for the day. She’d begun the morning as she usually did; breakfast with her family, half-listening to her father drone on about the family business and her place in it. Then she spent an hour sketching a wedding dress design.

  Now, she was finishing up a few of the errands she had as the maid of honor in her best friend’s wedding. Ray MacAdams was getting married in five weeks and there was a lot of work to do. Including stopping at the post office to mail invitations to Ray’s family back east and pick up the catalogs she’d ordered from Wool & Velvet and The Lady’s Necessities & Fripperies Shoppe. It was an unexpected surprise that the novel Tilly had ordered, The Showdown in Shadow Valley, had arrived, too.

  She read every novel she could get her hands on to escape her life in Dry Bayou. Tilly preferred adventure and learning new things over working in her family’s mercantile. And all Dillinger novels kept her on edge, not only the stories he wrote, but trying to figure out who the secretive author truly was.

  Tilly sidestepped a pile of horse mess on the street and followed the plank walkway nearest First and Main Streets. She was headed to the very last building. It was a vacant storefront with a large window, lots of interior space, and a back room where she could store supplies and finished orders.

  Mosier’s Mercantile was the grandest dry goods store in west Texas. The shop was the pride of her family, but it was a millstone around her neck.

  It wasn’t until last week that she decided to take the biggest risk of her life and start her own business. That’s why she wanted to rent the space in the building she was visiting; so she could design and make the dresses she knew the women in Dry Bayou, and all over Texas, would love to wear.

  Having reached her destination, Tilly peered in the large window. The building used to be the old tack and saddle shop where her brother, Gaston, had worked. He bought the business a year ago and moved it to the mercantile.

  She sighed. Even her brother was tethered to the family business. Poor Gaston.

  She forced her thoughts back to the task at hand. How many days would it take to clean the place up, install shelves, set up a workspace, and find all the supplies she needed?

  She laughed, suddenly giddy. This is really happening. I’m really opening my own store. And I owe it to Ray. Ray had inspired Tilly to go after what she wanted.

  After falling in love with Billy Ducharme, her childhood friend, Ray had decided to win his heart. Some of that motivation had rubbed off on Tilly. Tired of watching everyone around her get what they wanted, she’d never again sit back and wait or let an
yone run her life.

  “I’ll need a counter for the lace and ribbons, a shelf for stockings, and hooks along one wall for handbags and hats.” She had a distinct image in her mind of what the store should look like. Pleasant and wonderfully organized, she’d find joy in waking up every morning and going to work.

  She caught sight of her reflection in the window and smiled. She really had changed over the last few years—slim yet curvy enough to catch the attention of a gentleman or two.

  The stagecoach approached and she turned to look. On time from San Antonio, it was probably full of newcomers looking to settle in one of the fastest growing towns in Texas.

  Perhaps carrying a few ladies in need of new dresses!

  She stared longingly at her store once more. After a few more moments of daydreaming of fabrics and fripperies, Tilly sighed and started for home. In two days, she’d meet with Mr. Becker, the steward for the La Fontaine family, and speak with him about leasing the space. She already had the money for the first three months’ rent and a little left over to purchase the materials she’d need to fill some orders.

  If anyone actually comes to order a dress…The first inklings of uncertainty seeped into her mind, whispered in her mother’s stern, disapproving voice—but she shook them away.

  She couldn’t let doubt, fear, or her parents keep her from being who she wanted to be. “Nothing is going to ruin this day,” she said determinedly as she stepped from the boardwalk, into the road and right into a tall shadow.

  Looking up in surprise, she gasped. A handsome man stared down at her. Tilly’s happiness disappeared instantly.

  “Good afternoon, Ma’am,” the man said with a wide, stunning smile. “The name’s Doctor Henry Bartlett Jr. and I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find the confectionary. I have this sudden, powerful hankering for a sweet cake.”

  Chapter Two

  Hank couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t been in town for one minute before seeing one of the people he’d come home for, Tilda Marie Mosier.

  Because of the early morning departure and the long journey cramped inside a stagecoach with five other people, he’d been aching from head-to-toe and ready to jump out as it approached the post office. As it rounded the corner onto First Street, something caught his eye…the sight of a stunning woman with a gorgeous smile on her familiar face.

  It was Tilly. His Tilly. And she was even more lovely than he remembered.

  As soon as the coach stopped and he exited, he asked the porter to have his bags delivered to the hotel. Then he headed straight for the one woman in all the world that he’d been dreaming of seeing for the last six years. He found her staring into the large window of an empty storefront.

  Excitement and the long-denied need to touch her rose up from his belly.

  He stopped walking and stood there in the street, watching her.

  How I’ve missed you…His heart nearly jumped into his throat when she turned and walked toward him.

  He greeted her then watched as her face registered recognition.

  Tilly turned up her pert little chin and pierced him with her cornflower blue eyes.

  “Hank Bartlett.” She’d said his name like a curse. “I was informed you’d be arriving soon.” Her back was as straight as a rod and her hands were wrapped around a small handbag that matched her dress.

  She’d always dressed so finely.

  She was obviously not pleased to see him. Only a fool would hope she’d forgotten their past.

  “As soon as I received Billy’s wire, I accepted the offer to be his best man.” He smiled. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she frowned. “I should have plenty of time to help with the wedding preparations before I take over my father’s medical practice.”

  Her lovely eyes narrowed. “You’re moving back?”

  Nodding, he replied, “Yes. I’ve earned my license to practice medicine. I always planned to return home after I completed my studies.”

  Her gaze now flicked over him; the top of his head, the tie at his throat, the hand he’d planted on his hip in an unconscious show of nonchalant charm, and all the way down his legs to the dusty tips of his usually black boots.

  “I see,” she murmured. “Well, I have somewhere to go. I won’t hold you up any longer.” She curtsied and moved around him.

  He stepped in front of her and almost laughed at her surprised reaction. “Since we’re both such an important part of Ray and Billy’s big day, I’m sure we’ll see plenty of each other. I’m eager to get reacquainted with you.” He knew he should’ve just let her walk away, but he hadn’t seen enough of her yet. Not after so many years of being away.

  “Well, won’t that be…terrible—er, terribly nice.” She sped away before he could say anything.

  Hank watched her flee from his presence like a flittering butterfly and cocked a grin.

  There was a lot of mending to do before she’d forgive him, but he was more than willing to try. Hank had come home to reestablish his life. To start over and have a family.

  Tilly Mosier was going to be his wife. She just didn’t know it yet.

  *

  Smoke was practically billowing out of Tilly’s ears by the time she’d closed her bedroom door. “How dare he? How dare that scoundrel come into town and act as if nothing had changed?” She flopped down on her bed with a hmpf!

  No longer the chubby little girl with blonde pig tails, she was a woman grown now, ready to start her new life. All her dreams were about to be fulfilled. Tilly wanted to refuse to let one smile from the boy she didn’t like ruin her day. Unfortunately, it already had.

  “Good afternoon, Ma’am,” he’d said with a mocking grin that was far too handsome for a wretch like Hank Bartlett. “The name’s Doctor Henry Bartlett Jr. and I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find the confectionary. I have this sudden, powerful hankering for a sweet cake.”

  “How dare he even speak of sweet cakes…” She hated that Hank Bartlett still had the power to hurt her.

  Long ago, she’d promised to never let her past overshadow her future. That included the bully, Hank Bartlett.

  “…I’m eager to get reacquainted with you.” He’d spoken those words with a sincerity that seemed out of place for him.

  No, he’s just trying to get under my skin, make me let down my guard so he can tease me again… A groan escaped. How did a little boy who had the power to make her angrier than a hornet in a bustle, grow into a handsome man with the power to get under her skin so effortlessly? Hank Bartlett was back in Dry Bayou. And now she had to figure out how to stay far, far away from him.

  Chapter Three

  “How was your meeting with Mr. Becker, dear?” Mrs. Cressida La Fontaine asked as she finished placing their lunch order. Tilly sat across from her at their table in the La Beau Bayou restaurant, the pride and joy of the Dry Bayou Hotel.

  Tilly smiled. “It was a success.” A tremor of excitement rippled through her. “I can’t believe I’m a business owner now.” This was her moment.

  “I believe it.” Ray grinned. “You’ve been dreamin’ about leavin’ the mercantile and becomin’ your own woman for years. I am so proud of you.” Ray touched Tilly’s shoulder.

  Ray had been Tilly’s best friend since she could tie her own boot. Now, Ray was getting married and Tilly’s job as maid of honor was to do all the little tasks Ray wouldn’t bother with, which was pretty much everything. That left Tilly with a long list of jobs to complete in four and a half weeks. But she loved Ray, so she wouldn’t fail.

  Cressida grinned at Ray and Tilly. “It’s so wonderful to see friendships blossom here in our lovely, little town.” Her expression turned suddenly wistful. “It was one of the reasons Leslie and I moved west, leaving the tensions of Louisiana behind us. We wanted to build a place where people from all walks of life could live.”

  Cressida La Fontaine was the wife of the town founder, Mr. Leslie La Fontaine, the youngest son of a wealthy Louisiana plantation owner.
Cressida was a beautiful Mulatto woman. She had dark brown hair kissed with silver and bright green eyes shining with intelligence and wisdom. Her lush mocha skin spoke of her heritage. Though Cressida was now the wealthy wife of a wonderful man, she was once a slave.

  “I am proud of you, too, Tilly Milly.” Her older sister, Dora, sat to her right.

  Tilly didn’t like that nickname, but since Dora was showing her support, Tilly would let that slide. Just this once. “I know Ma and Pa aren’t the most loving of parents, but Gaston and I are excited for you. Never doubt that.”

  Tilly nearly cried. “Thank you, Isadora. I appreciate that.”

  The waiter arrived with the tea tray and a platter of delectable sandwiches. Cucumber with dabs of dill jelly on tiny slices of soft, French bread.

  “Dig in. Don’t let propriety keep you from satiating your appetite,” Cressida coaxed. “I didn’t order the food so we could all stare at it.”

  After a collective giggle, Tilly, Ray, Dora, and Cressida spent the next hour nibbling on the food and chatting about the upcoming wedding.

  Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Tilly’s neck stood on end. She sensed the presence of something dangerous. That’s when she honed in on the man walking toward their table.

  Hank Bartlett was dressed in a fine black coat, dark red vest, black tie, black pants, and black boots. The fawn-colored hat on his head seemed to bring out the golden tan of his skin and the gray-blue of his eyes.

  Why does he have to look so…wonderful?

  Hank stopped beside her chair and smiled. “Good afternoon, ladies.” He nodded to each woman and then his gaze finally settled on Tilly.

  Tilly fought the urge to tremble. What was it about Hank that gave her such chills? Memories of the past? No, that wasn’t it. Tilly didn’t have the time to wonder before Cressida stole Hank’s attention. “There you are, young man. It’s great to see you home again. I hear you’re going to take your daddy’s place. That man works much too hard. He could use a pair of steady hands to help him.”