The Seamstress: Dry Bayou Brides, #2

By Lynn Winchester

Tilly Mosier has only ever had one dream…to not work in her family's store. She wants to live her own life outside the shadow of her controlling parents. When she's presented with the opportunity to open her own dress shop, Tilly finally thinks her life is on track for a bright, happy future.

Until Hank Bartlett returns to Dry Bayou.

Hank Bartlett was always known as one of the meanest little boys in town, and he was meanest to Tilly Mosier, the chubby little girl who always got under his skin. Sent away to medical school six years before, he's back home to settle down and plant roots.

The only problem is that the woman he wants to plant roots with is determined to keep him at a distance. He can't blame her; he's never given her a reason to like him or trust him.

But he's never stopped thinking about her, the one girl he's always wanted for his own.

What happens when a woman determined to live her own life is pursued by a man who is determined to win her heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charizomai Press
• Release date: Sep 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223357360

Lynn Winchester

Lynn Winchester is the pseudonym of a hardworking California-born conservative, now living in the wilds of Northeast Pennsylvania. Lynn has been writing fiction since the 5th grade, and enjoys creating worlds, characters, and stories for her readers. When Lynn isn't writing she is running a successful editing business, reading whatever she can get her hands on, raising her four children, making sure her husband is happy, and binge watching shows on Netflix.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Dry Bayou Community Church

Dry Bayou, Texas

1859

O oo, 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