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  Stay with Me

  (Book 11 of the Dream Catcher Series)

  Rita Hestand

  Copyright© 2019 by Rita Hestand

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN #

  Cover Design: Sheri McGathy

  License Note

  This book, Stay With Me is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be copied or reproduced in any manner without express written permission of the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy or copies. If you did not purchase this book or it was not purchased for your use, please go to Smashwords.com to purchase your personal copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Stay With Me is a work of fiction. Though some of the cities and towns actually exist they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any names or characteristics similar to any person past, present or future are coincidental.

  Dedication:

  Love comes unexpectedly sometimes. Sometimes it comes with complications and decisions that have to be made. But true love means standing up for those decisions.

  God bless

  Rita Hestand

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  About the Author

  Rita's Other Books

  Books in this Series

  Beyond the Dream Catcher

  Just one Kiss

  Ask no Tomorrows

  A Promised Heart

  Be Free my Heart

  Teach Me Your Love

  My Captured Heart

  Finding Her

  Guilty as Sin

  Stolen Heart

  Stay with Me

  North Texas 1873

  Chapter One

  Thunder and lightning had Clay Nelson mesmerized by the storm coming at them. Huge rumbling dark clouds rolled across the darkening sky on the open prairie. The wind picked up and the tall grasses waved like an incoming tide. The sparse sprinkling of trees began to sway in the wind as it picked up. Birds hushed; the grasshoppers stopped jumping.

  "A storm's kicking up, dad, we better hurry and get those chickens in the coop." Clay hollered.

  Charlie Nelson came closer, glanced at the sky and nodded. He gathered several chickens and locked them in the pens pulling down the shutter so they wouldn't get the brunt of the storm.

  As he came up to his son, he studied him for a moment, as though something was on his mind. "Clay," Charlie looked at his son, "I been meaning to talk to you about this for a while son. I hate to bring this up, but I feel like it's overdue, so I'm just going to come out with it."

  "What is it dad?" Clay asked glancing at his dad who seemed to be hesitating. For some strange reason his dad seemed oblivious to the coming storm. It was kind of out of his character to be so unsure of what he had to say.

  Charlie sighed heavily. "You ain't gonna like what I got to say, but well, I been wondering."

  "Wondering what?" Clay asked shooting him a quick glance over his shoulder. Didn't he see those clouds? What was wrong with him? Was he suddenly getting senile?

  "I been wondering when you gonna settle yourself down and marry, son, and give me some grandchildren?" Charlie asked as he shaded his eyes and looked out over the horizon now.

  Clay's head shot up, eyeing his father with a bit of surprise. Where was this coming from?

  Black clouds were already forming to the north and it looked as though it was going to be a gully washer. Clay was more concerned with the weather than this conversation that seemed to pop up out of nowhere.

  He shook his head and glanced once more over his shoulder. "Now what brought this up, and especially at a time like this."

  Irritation lined his words.

  "Well son, I been meaning to talk to you about if for the longest. Don't seem to be any right time to talk about it. Now's as good as any, we can't stop the storm son, but maybe we could stop long enough to talk about it. Aside from locking the chickens in their pen, there ain't much we can do about a storm except batten down the hatches."

  He sure picked his times to talk about it! A gully washer on its way and he wanted to talk about him getting married? There were cattle to check on, chickens to pen, horses to curry and his dad should be in the kitchen about now, fixing something for the evening meal.

  Clay tried his best not to show the frustration he was feeling. Still, he couldn't quite believe his father was taking it up at all. After all, they'd rarely talked about his not getting married, and Clay preferred it that way, a fact Charlie was well aware of.

  It wasn't that he hadn't considered it a time or two in his thirty years, but there was no one in his life he wanted that badly, at least not enough to marry. Marriage was a huge step and not to be taken lightly.

  Clay figured that naturally if the right woman came along, he'd jump at the chance, but that hadn't happened, and time had a way of slipping by without notice. He figured he'd probably never marry.

  A lonely wind whistled through the cracks in the shed as the clouds formed an ominous position moving straight toward them. "Bad weather is on its way." Charlie mumbled as if to himself, as he just now realized it. Still, he waited for his son to respond to the question.

  "This just isn't the time, dad."

  "You're right, but when is a good time, son? A man begins to wonder about his son, when he takes no notice of a woman."

  "Dad," Clay turned to face him, rubbing his chin and trying to figure out how to explain it. "Look, I really don't feel like talking about this right now. There's too much to do. I've got to get the rest of the chickens in their pen, the horses brushed down and you've got to get supper on. I need to run check on the cattle too."

  "I already put the chickens in the pen, the cattle are fine, they are huddling by the lean-to shed. It's just that you never want to talk about it. That's the problem." Charlie fussed, knowing the weather had nothing to do with their conversation. "I wouldn't have said anything, but your thirty years old, son and not even thinking along the lines of a family. I'll be dead before you decide to have any grandchildren."

  "Grandkids? My God, dad, I'm not even married yet." Clay glanced at his aging father, a slender man with greying hair and usually a big smile on his face, except today. What he'd said was the truth and Clay had to admit he hadn't given much thought to marriage nor the fact that he was thirty. Nor had he given any thought to his father's death. Perhaps he'd give it some thought, later. He was doing what he thought best, taking care of the place, and his dad!

  "Look managing this place with just you and me, there's no time for courting. No decent woman would marry without a fair amount of time spent on it. I don't have that time to pay court like a gentleman." Clay answered him, this time with a frown. "Besides, I haven't met a woman I admire as much as my own mother. And until I do, I won't be doing any courting. I figure if the right woman comes along, I'll know it. And courting won't be that important to either of us."

  "Comes along, you think she's just gonna drive up in the yard
in a wagon and say, "Here I am?"

  Clay shot him a frown.

  "What's wrong with Laura Martin, she's been sweet on you a while now…?" His dad persisted. "And she sure cooks good. You know as well as I do why she brings that food to us once a week."

  Clay smiled. "I knew you'd bring her up." Clay muttered with exasperation. "Look, I admire her cooking as much as you do, but that's no basis for a marriage dad." He eyed his father with disbelief. "If that's all it takes, you marry her. You get along with her so well. In case you haven't noticed, I don't. We just don't see eye to eye on most things. She's the biggest gossip this side of the Red River. Look, we've been doing fine without a woman all these years, why bring it up now?"

  "Well now son, that's an easy one, I don't want to leave you alone, when I'm gone."

  "Are you sick or something?" Clay asked whirling around at his father with a question in his eyes and a look of concern on his face.

  "No, no, of course not, but you never know. Look at Asa Martin, keeled over in the field, was dead before anyone could get to him. It can happen, you know."

  Seeing he wasn't going to let this conversation go, this time, Clay leaned against the gate of the corral that was just outside the shed. "What brought this on?" Clay asked staring now into his father's face. "You can outwork me when you want to. So, I know you can't be sick. Why is it suddenly so important to you?"

  "Look, Laura's a fine-looking woman, and if I was younger, I might just do that. But it's not me she's doing all that cooking for, son." His father cast him a light grin. "And you know that."

  "I'm supposed to be interested in her because she's a fine cook?"

  "Well, it's a start, she's pretty too." His dad defended. "She even went back east for a lady's school for young women."

  Clay set the saddle on the top of the stall gate and turned to look at his persistent father. He brushed his long red hair away from his face, his dark indigo eyes penetrating his father with a glance. Clay's brows raised in question, as his frown bore down on him.

  "There's more to marrying than saddling a lady, you know." Clay turned away quickly. "Look at this place, what woman would want to live here. Laura wouldn't for sure, if I was a mind. But I'm not. So, forget her. I mean, it's fine for you and me, but a woman, especially one like Laura would expect a fine house, I don't have that to offer. And I don't like her enough to even think of marrying her. I won't marry a woman I don't love."

  Charlie glanced at the house, a two-room cabin was more like it, but they could build, couldn't they?

  "Well, don't you ever get the itch, son?" His father asked with a grin. "And you can always build a house."

  "The itch doesn't bother me very often, no. And when I do, I go into town to the saloon and take care of that itch." Clay shook his head and wished his father would help him. Instead of carrying on about a wife. "Besides, I'm too busy. And you and I don't need a bigger house."

  "You know," his father looked down at the hay on his boots. "A man worries about his kid when he doesn't take no interest in women. Maybe we're taking the wrong tack here son. I mean, you don't have to marry a fine lady, but a fine woman. You know I could take on more work here so you could go courting. I mean, if you wanted to."

  "And where, pray tell, do you suppose I might find this woman? You think she's gonna just suddenly appear out of thin air?"

  Clay stared at him for a long moment.

  "Look dad, if the time comes and I do meet a woman that suits me, I won't hesitate to make her my wife. Until then you are going to have to be patient. Maybe I waited too long to consider a wife, I don't know, but she'd have to be pretty special to live out here."

  Clay studied on his answers. Now he was staring at his father with a grim glance. "Quit fretting, there's nothing wrong with me, I just don't have the time nor the inclination at the moment. If the right woman came along, I'd snatch her up like dirt on a stick, I promise."

  "What's wrong with Laura, she's been coming over here for months now, bringing us food and stuff." His father wouldn't let it lie. "If that isn't a hint, I don't know what is."

  "Hint be damned dad, I'm not interested in Laura. Never have been. Just because she is, doesn't mean I am. Her coming over with food every week does not endear her to me. We aren't a charity case; we can fix our own meals. And another thing, Laura and I don't see eye to eye on things. I'm tired of hearing how she's a third generation Texan, and how her uncle fought at the Alamo. I love this state as much as she does, but I don't go bragging how many of my ancestors claimed it first. She hated Abe Lincoln, blamed him for the war. Blamed him for her family losing that fine mansion they used to own. She's a gossip and a busybody. I don't need that in my life. She's not my kind of woman. Look if I wanted a woman, or a wife right now, I'd be doing the chasing, understand?" Clay studied on that too. "Laura, is a fine woman, but I’m not in love with her. She's just not my type of woman. She's a good friend to you and I'm glad, but I have no personal interest in her, dad. She should know that by now. Besides, her and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things that are important to me. The kind of woman it would take to live with the two of us, well, I just don't think they make them like that anymore."

  "I guess I can understand that, Laura can be a might uppity. But maybe it's time you took the time to find a wife, then. I don't want to leave this world knowing that you are alone here, with no future, son." His father chuckled. "But you realize that to find a wife you gotta have some personal interest in her, and you gotta use some persuasion."

  "Well, I wouldn't have to with Laura, she's made that clear enough. She's just not my idea of a wife. She's too much fluff. She knows as well as I that we aren't compatible, but I'm sure her folks are thinking she should marry too. She's not getting any younger either." Now Clay really frowned, "Besides, I think it might help on those cold winter nights if you loved her a bit, dad. I'm not stupid. I mean I know how you loved Ma. Don't try to tell me it wasn't important to you."

  "Well what are you looking for?" Now his father laughed aloud. Then seeing the quick scowl on his father's face, he frowned once more. "Alright, I'll let it lie, but I sure wish you'd hurry. I could die before you decide to marry."

  Clay chuckled now, "You're too onry to die." He saw the scowl on his dad's face. Look, Dad, you want me to ride out of here and go shopping for a wife?"

  "No," Charlie shook his head.

  His father walked off and went in the house. The slump in his shoulders told Clay he was disappointed with the conversation.

  Clay shook his head. What had come over him? His father had never even suggested he take a wife before. Maybe the fact that Hank Evans just got married had him thinking along those lines. Hank was almost the same age and sure talked it up at the wedding. Truth be told, Clay hadn't considered marriage with any woman. Oh, he'd looked, but no one caught his eye as special. And he knew his father dearly loved his mother, that's what he wanted, if it ever came around.

  He'd admired Martha Blakely; a fine-looking woman and he'd been a bit interested until he found out she was sweet on John Evans, the lawyer. And Laura just wasn't the kind of woman to live out here on the prairie. No, she was a big mansion kind of woman with silks and satins.

  He knew most the women in town, but he also knew most of the good women were taken. And most of those didn’t have pedigree ancestors like Laura. They were hard working, God-fearing women. That's what he wanted. He supposed he might have waited too long to show interest. He realized that a grandchild would certainly perk the place up, but a woman…he didn't need one, except on those occasions when he had the itch.

  Of course, thinking about it, had him wondering what it might be like to have a woman to share things with, a woman to love and care for, and children. Like Howard Martin who married plain little Emily Jones. Funny, she'd been plain growing up, but when Howard took an interest in her, she perked up, bought some clothes and became one of the most admired women in town. He admired their marriage and Emily was a hard-working, God-fe
aring woman.

  But wasn't love supposed to play a part in marriage? You just couldn't order it up. It had to grow between a man and a woman. And so far, that hadn't happened to him.

  Trouble was, Clay hadn't found a woman that fit him yet. And truth be told he hadn't looked around seriously enough either. Maybe there was no fit for him. Maybe he was destined to be a bachelor.

  After all, who would put up with him? Living out here on the prairie, he had gotten used to just him and his dad and was comfortable with it.

  A few years ago, he'd thought about it, but most of the girls he liked had already married and had children too. He supposed he'd let that part of his life slide a little longer than most, but he wasn't about to marry someone he didn't love.

  Maybe he'd hire a woman to come cook for them, his father's cooking lacked a lot to be desired. He was tired of a stew that had little in it.

  He'd think on that. Perhaps he hadn't given enough consideration to a real courtship when he was younger and now it seemed unimportant to him. Even though they had considerable land to tend to and stock. His home was nothing to brag about.

  He needed to get out to the back pasture, and make sure the cattle were alright. It was a little late to be contemplating marriage anyway.

  It suited him and his father, so he hadn't thought of improving on the house much either.

  He caught a half dozen chickens and locked them in their pen, when he realized his father hadn't tended them. Then he went back to the barn to curry the horses.

  His dad would think of Laura, but Clay didn't feel anything for her but friendship. And at times, not even that. She was a bit too chatty, a little arrogant, as she was always claiming she was a diehard Texan. So, what, that didn't matter to Clay. He didn't care about courting a woman nor what generation they were either. He figured if and when the right girl came along, he'd know it and act accordingly. Of course, that hadn't happened either.

  Still he couldn't help but wonder why Laura wasted her time. They weren't even compatible.