Her Man From Shilo

By Robyn Rychards

'Her Man From Shilo was a deeply tender and emotional read from start to finish.' - Goodreads Review

Rafferty Pierce has sacrificed everything to run the family ranch. Now, his dying stepfather has arranged a marriage for him in an effort to ensure the future of the ranch.

There's just one small problem - Rafferty already has a wife.

Daimiana Casey has loved two things for as long as she can remember: dancing and Rafferty Pierce. But, seven years ago, Rafferty convinced her to give up one to chase the other. After all, she's only really his wife on paper, and moving to California to pursue her dreams was the right choice...wasn't it?

When Rafferty and Daimiana's shotgun marriage from all those years ago is finally revealed, passion and tension erupt. But can Daimee and Raff really have it all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Mar 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780857990365

Robyn Rychards

Robyn Rychards grew up in the granola bowl of the United States, Boulder Colorado, a town filled with fruits, flakes and nuts. She considers herself a Jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none and has taught herself to sew, paint, play the piano, garden, cook, the list goes on. But now that her books are published, she's thrilled to finally be considered a master of one. At least as much as a person can be, for the learning never really stops. She feels her active imagination is a blessing and a curse, with the blessing far outweighing the curse, since it has led her to fulfil her dream of writing romance stories for Harlequin. Robyn started writing stories when she was a teenager because she didn't have enough books to read, and sometimes finds it hard to believe that people are willing to pay her to do something she enjoys so much. Then there's the added bonus of having a good reason to put off cooking and cleaning, much less a job that means you can stay in your jammies as long as you want. That's priceless.   To find out more, visit Robyn on her website. You can also follow Robyn on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

Good God, Jonathan, have you lost your mind? Rafferty Pierce burst out, staring in astonishment at his stepfather.

Jonathan Banks leaned back on the couch, a small satisfied smile on his lips, his waxen skin pulled tightly across the bones of his once-handsome face, his thinning gray hair a ruffled mess. Victoria is a lovely girl, I don’t see why you have a problem with marrying her. He closed his eyes wearily, his energy spent now he’d said his piece. Taking a deep breath before opening his eyes, he pointed out, You’re thirty-five years old, Rafferty, and haven’t done much of a job producing a family of your own to pass the ranch on to.

At a loss for words he finally managed to get out, But how can you do this to Mom? It was a desperate effort not to show Jonathan how this ultimatum affected him.

Jonathan waved his hand dismissively. Caroline will be fine. Either way, she’ll be able to live in her home with as much money as she needs. It’s just a matter of where you want things to end up, my boy. Do you want Shilo when I die, or do you want it to belong to my younger brother? If you want the ranch, marry Victoria Lange. Not only will you have Shilo, but you’ll double its size.

This was the kind of cold-blooded thinking that made Jonathan Banks the successful owner of a large, prosperous software company. But his attitude was still quite puzzling to Rafferty as he knew Jonathan had married his mother because he loved her deeply. Yet here he was, trying to force Raff to marry a woman he did not love, for monetary reasons. Jumping to his feet, he went to the window of the sitting area in his mother and stepfather’s bedroom suite, his stiff back towards the room.

Does Victoria know about this? he questioned, his eyes drinking in the calming view of the Rocky Mountains, hoping to clear his head. The last thing he wanted was for Jonathan to know the hurt he inflicted.

Her father has made the suggestion to her and she seems open to it. A little wooing on your part is all it would take. You’re a handsome devil and most women would bend over backwards to get your attention, Victoria included.

Rafferty gave a disbelieving snort but made no comment. Shoving his fists into the pockets of his faded jeans, he turned back toward the room.

I’ll leave you to get some rest, I’m sure this conversation has worn you out. Quickly he strode across the room to the door, his booted feet silent on the thick carpet.

But, Jonathan began but got no further as Rafferty firmly shut the door behind him and quickly strode down the hall. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep from slamming that door as he left; slamming it so hard the house shook with it.

Desperately wanting to lock himself in his study and come to terms with what had just happened, he didn’t have the luxury. All the duties of Shilo fell squarely on his shoulders and he couldn’t shirk that responsibility.

Heading out of the house to the main barn he battled with his thoughts, trying to shut them out. He didn’t have time for it right now and he couldn’t risk being distracted while working with his horses. Maybe tomorrow… though he was fast running out of those. He ground his teeth and before he could stop it, she popped into his head. How could she not with what Jonathan had just done? Daimee!

Closing the door of his study behind him, Rafferty felt like he was closing out the world. This was his sanctuary. Scowling and letting out a pent-up breath, he crossed the room and sank down into the brown leather chair behind his teak desk. Propping up his booted feet on its cluttered top, he leaned back and wearily closed his silvery gray eyes. The strain he had been dealing with for years began to overwhelm him. It had been a week since the ultimatum and he was only now getting away on his own to figure it all out.

Opening his eyes, he dropped his feet to the floor, running a hand thoughtfully through his dark, honey-streaked hair, only to have the locks fall back across his brow again. Slowly a bittersweet smile spread across his face. Reaching down, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk for the first time in six years. This time he was going to have the last laugh. For once his stepfather wasn’t getting his way.

Rather reluctantly, he pulled out the old shoe box and set it on the desk in front of him. His fingers shook slightly as he untied the string around the lid of a container that was his own personal Pandora’s Box. When he’d closed it, he’d closed his mind and heart as well. Thoughts of that other time were not allowed to disturb the peace of mind he needed to deal with his life now.

He clenched his fist in an attempt to control its trembling, then took a deep breath and pulled off the lid. His weapon was right there. He blinked several times to clear suddenly blurred vision and took a deep breath when he saw the signature on the paper that sat on top. His marriage license. The name belonged to the only person he would ever consent to marry, no matter what his stepfather did. And now, his proof of an already-existing marriage would stop his stepfather’s schemes.

Lifting it out, he briefly scanned words that were burned into his brain—and on his heart—before he folded it up and put it on the desk. Turning back to the box, he took out a photograph. Daimiana Casey. His Daimee, the way she’d looked that last day. The periwinkle blue eyes sparkled with joy and his fingers ached to comb through those long dark curls. This Daimee would always be his, but what of the Daimee she was now?

The doctor said Jonathan had a year at most. Surely it wouldn’t be too much to ask? Briefly he closed his eyes. Please God, don’t let her hate me. Lovingly he ran a finger across the photographic image of his beloved’s lips then dropped the picture back into the box as though it burned. He had captured perfectly the adoration and happiness she felt that day and he couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.

The noise of his cell phone jarred the silence. He jumped and swore under his breath. He’d hardly looked at anything and he was a nervous wreck. Agitated, he didn’t check to see who was calling before he turned it on.

This is Rafferty.

Hi Raff.

That voice, that name, bounced around in his brain and his stomach clenched. Damn! Of all the inopportune times… His grip on the phone became white-knuckled. Just the sound of her voice had his heart pounding. How long had it been since he’d heard it? Too damn long, his heart screamed before the habit of years had him stuffing his emotions down in order to cope. Hell, he hadn’t even decided what he was going to do yet and now here she was on the phone.

Hello Daimee. The huskiness of his voice made him wince.

Bet you didn’t expect it to be me.

She gave a little laugh that sent shivers down his spine. He used to live for the summers he spent listening to that laugh.

Not in a million years, he told her abruptly, desperately trying not to let her know how much power she had over him. To what do I owe the pleasure?

Well, she paused. I haven’t talked to you in so long… She cleared her throat, making him wonder if she was unsure what to say next or if his manner upset her. How are things going at Shilo? Are you happy?

Happy? It was seven long years since he’d been anything close to happy. The ranch is doing better than ever, keeping me crazy busy. A half truth. He made sure he was crazy busy, leaving him so tired most of the time he didn’t have to think, to decide anything. Guess there was no more living in that dream world. Life was hitting him in the face with a vengeance. At a loss for words, he filled the silence, How are your father and brother doing?

Really well. They have the biggest charter business in town and are loving every minute of it. They miss you Raff. She paused. We all do. Another pause and he could hear her take a deep breath before saying wistfully, We had some good times, didn’t we?

Some amazingly good times, Daimee, he admitted, the memories of those days flitting through his mind. The sense of belonging he felt when they were all together. But that was over. Best accept it. It didn’t help the here and now. Reality sure could be a bitch.

He had given Daimee the opportunity her talent deserved. It was enough. It had to be enough. Who was he to want more? It would make him no better than her father, who had wanted her to join the family business, had he taken her to Shilo all those years ago to join his family business.

Eager to change the subject, he asked, And you? How’s life in California treating you? God! What were they, old acquaintances catching up? Hell, no, they were husband and wife of seven years. He ran his fingers through his hair to push it off his forehead and let out a frustrated sigh. It was his decision things were like this; it was not fair taking it out on her. He knew she would’ve followed him to the ends of the earth.

It’s good. Real good actually, a pause and he heard her suck in a breath. Thinking she was getting ready to tell him the real reason for this call, he panicked. That was the only reason he could come up with for what he did next. He needed her here, but he wasn’t prepared to have this discussion right now, on the phone. Oh God… That ‘real good’ worried him. Was she calling to ask for a divorce? In a rush he blurted,

Glad to hear it, Daimee, so glad to hear it. Every time I think of you I hope you’re living the life you deserve. He cleared his throat, stalling for time. Actually, I was going to call you. We need to talk… He held his breath. No, he just couldn’t do this now, his emotions were too out of control. Being completely in control was the only way he could to get through the discussion they needed to have. But this is a really bad time. Can I call you back in a few days?

Silence. Her breath gusted down the line. Sure Raff. Then more firmly, Sure. I’ll talk to you in a few days then. Sorry to disturb you at a bad time.

Don’t worry about it, Cricket, he said softly. His stomach turned as the nickname slipped out and nostalgia flooded him. It’s always good to hear from you. Talk to you soon?

Pushing the end button before she could respond, he threw his phone on the desk in disgust, frustrated with himself. When had he become such a coward? He looked at the box he’d pulled out, then shoved himself away from the desk and stood up. It was becoming imperative he give this whole situation serious thought. No more running. He needed to be out on his horse, away from everything and think. No interruptions. He reached for his cell phone and paused, his hand in mid-air. No interruptions.

It was two days before Rafferty entered his office again. Two days filled with a lot of thinking about, and agonizing over, what to do, what to say to Daimee. He paused momentarily after shutting the door behind him. He’d forgotten he left that box out. Sucking in his breath, he squared his shoulders and walked determinedly over to the desk. Pulling out the chair, he flung himself into it. He picked up the box and dumped it out.

The contents spilled across his desk, hundreds of photographs and a bundle of letters tied together with string. These he put to one side—a person could handle only so much at one time without falling apart, and those letters he received from Daimee regularly every year since she was four were more than he could take right now.

He spread the pictures out in front of him. God, how he’d loved photography. He never went anywhere without his camera then. He had hoped to be a professional photographer—before the responsibility of Shilo took over his life. He sifted the photos through his fingers, looking at one before quickly moving to another.

He shook his head and called himself a sentimental fool. Though, he’d become such a robot, maybe a little sentimentality wasn’t such a bad thing. It was just the pain of not having her here, of not knowing she was his forever… If he had felt he could marry Victoria, that’s who he’d be married to right now. He’d known her longer than he’d known anyone except his mother. She was beautiful and knew almost as much as he did about horses. Definitely an asset to Shilo. But, as much as he had loved his Granny Sam, as much as he loved the ranch, he could not commit himself to any woman but Daimee—regardless of whether she was willing to have him or not.

He lingered over a photograph. Daimee. She had to be about twelve or thirteen, dancing on the lawn in front of their stuccoed, Mediterranean-style house…

Raff! she screamed as she came running out to greet him. Jumping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist, she told him, "I’ve been waiting forever for you to get here!"

She had always launched herself at him as soon as he arrived each year, but this time he was unprepared for how much she had grown, so after grabbing her around the waist, he lost his balance and they tumbled to the grass, Daimee on top of him. Rolling sideways, he lay her down beside him, propped himself up on his elbow and said, Hello to you too, Cricket! Good grief you’ve grown! Quite knocked me sideways. I’ll have to be better prepared next time. He gave her a crooked smile and a wink. Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be in school?

She briefly nodded her head and explained, There’s still a couple weeks before summer vacation, but I got a migraine headache last night, so Poppa let me stay home today.

Alone?

"Of course! I am old enough, you know."

His brow wrinkled in concern. How long have you been getting these headaches?

Lifting a shoulder carelessly she said, I don’t know, three or four months maybe. I’ve got a prescription that helps, but it takes at least a day for me to feel like going to school after one.

Changing the subject, he asked, You still taking ballet lessons?

Nope. Decided I don’t like ballet, I like modern dance better. Jumping up she asked, Y’all wanna see a dance I made up with some new moves I learned?

Indulgently he said, Sure. Let me get my camera out of the car. I want a picture of it. He stood up too.

She wrinkled her nose at him in disgust. Now I’m gonna be all worried ‘cause you’re taking a picture.

Raff shrugged without compassion. You still want to be a dancer when you grow up, don’t you? he asked as he went to the car and fished out his brand new Canon SLR. Turning back toward her with it in his hand, he slammed the door of his new black Land Rover. It was a college graduation gift from his mother and Jonathan. Granny Sam had given him the camera.

Of course I do.

"Then you’ll have