Mercy: Bride of Idaho (American Mail-Order Bride 43)

by Jacquie Rogers

“Is that the big question?”

  He took a sip of coffee to give himself time to think of something to say back. “It’s a start.”

  “I found it fascinating—hard work, too,” she said. “In the city, we have no idea how much effort it takes to get a steak on the table. But I also thought it was fun, and I’m so glad I went. I’d love to go again.”

  That was the opening he needed. Now, for the Big Question...

  Ray came in carrying a platter of steaks and a bowl of gravy. “Back with the spuds and bread in a minute,” he said as he placed the meat in the center of the table.

  “I expect we should get married.” Quill said it in a hurry, else the words would get stuck in his throat.

  “I expect so.”

  Not the romantic reaction he wanted, but she was contracted to marry Uncle Ike, all so he could match her up with Quill or his cousin. And so it was.

  “I’ll let my uncle know. We might as well get married this weekend.”

  “Might as well. Jake can be my matron of honor. Who’ll you get for best man—Harper?”

  “Dog.”

  “Your dog?” She shrugged. “Man’s best friend and all that. I named him Lobo.”

  He had no idea why she’d do such a thing. “What was wrong with Dog?”

  “Which dog?”

  “My dog, Dog.”

  “Same thing that’s wrong with Inky.”

  “Who?”

  “Your cat, Cat.”

  “That’s confusing.”

  “Not if you call them Lobo and Inky.”

  “I suppose you’re gonna rename Horse, too.”

  “I think you should kiss me.” She blushed and lowered her gaze. “Isn’t that what engaged couples do?”

  Quill didn’t need a second invitation. He was up and out of his chair in a heartbeat, and pulled Mercy to her feet. “You look beautiful in that dress. And in your britches.” He kissed her forehead. “And I bet, in nothing at all.”

  She tipped her head back and he lowered his, but as their lips met, Ray came in with a bowl of mashed potatoes.

  “Even sprinkled a little dried parsley on for color,” he said as he placed the bowl on the table. “You two better sit down and eat. There’ll be enough time for such business after you’ve said your vows.”

  Quill calmed himself, seated Mercy, and sat across from her. “We should get married in the morning.”

  “Not enough time to plan a wedding party.”

  He stood, thinking more of a party of two, and closed the door.

  “Mercy, I want to kiss you.”

  She got up and looked him right in the eye. “Then do it.”

  How he wanted to—and more. But he knew he’d made a big mistake. “Can’t.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “Won’t. Not until you guarantee you won’t leave me.”

  “Why on earth would you even think I’d do such a thing?”

  “Because then you’ll be tied down, and once the newness of the ranch wears off, you’ll want to leave, so you might as well leave now and get on with your life, wherever you end up.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “I’ll pay your fare to your sister’s place, or back to Massachusetts—wherever you want to go.”

  “Quill, you’re impossible!” And instead of waiting for him, she kissed him right on the mouth. All parts stood at attention and he wanted this woman more than anything in the world—and he was willing to risk his heart to get her.

  When she pulled back, he could see that she was as stunned by the kiss as he’d been.

  “Saturday can’t come too soon, Quill Roderick. And I’ll never leave you.”

  Chapter 18

  The next morning, Mercy got up early. She’d slept little from sheer glee that Quill actually wanted to marry her. That not only solved the problem of where she’d live, but filled her heart with joy.

  The men hadn’t come in for breakfast, nor had Ike gotten out of bed yet. Since her excitement gave her more energy than she knew what to do with, she commenced to cleaning. She couldn’t have been happier as she danced around the parlor swiping her feather duster across the furniture.

  The only thing that would’ve made her even more ecstatic was if Quill had proclaimed his undying love. But she knew he’d come to love her just as much as she loved him. He just had to.

  Ray stuck his head through the doorway and said, “Quill and Harp won’t be in for breakfast—they’re helping a cow that’s in trouble calving on the south range—so you might as well eat now.”

  “Coffee and toast would be plenty. I’m not very hungry.” She followed Ray into the kitchen and sat at the table, where he’d already placed a cup of coffee.

  “We might as well plan your wedding. Ike said Saturday noon sounded like a good time. Say the vows first thing, then party all afternoon.” He set a saucer with a toasted biscuit and butter on it in front of her. “You two discuss if you’re taking a honeymoon or not?”

  “No, we haven’t discussed anything at all, other than he proposed.”

  “Well, congratulations. He can be a mite prickly but he’s a good-hearted man and my bet is he’ll make a good husband.”

  “Thank you, and I’d be delighted to start planning the wedding and reception after.”

  “Reception, that was the fancy word I was looking for. In this part of the country, we just have parties. Bein’s you’re from Massachusetts, I’ll tell Wilson and Tresa to call it a reception.”

  “Really, I don’t think it much matters, and anyway, I love parties!”

  She heard hoofbeats and then, “Hello, the house.”

  Ray put his hand out, palm up. “You stay set—I’ll see to this.”

  Mercy had a hard time staying put because she wanted to see who was there. The Circle ID was a mile off the road, so it wouldn’t be an ordinary traveler who happened to be thirsty. Within a moment, Ray came back in.

  “Better put on your riding clothes.” He handed her a telegram.

  ARRIVE IN HFLATS ON MORN STAGE STOP HAVE WARDROBE WILL TRAVEL STOP PATIENCE

  “Oh, no! My sister’s marriage must not have worked out and she’s coming here. When does the stage get in?”

  “First one’s about half past ten. If you’re meeting her, you better get going. I’ll get the wagon hitched up.”

  “It’d be faster to ride.”

  “She’ll have luggage.”

  “We can have them hold it and Quill can pick it up later. Honestly, I can’t drive a wagon very well, and you can’t go with me because of the morning milking. Ike isn’t out of bed and I’m not going to wake him. Sleeping on the ground for two weeks didn’t help his rheumatism any.”

  “That’s a fact.”

  “So how about I ride into town and we’ll rent a buggy?”

  “Or how about you and her just stay put and I’ll drive the wagon in this afternoon and fetch you? Then we don’t have to return a rental.”

  “All right, I’ll go saddle up. We’ll probably be in the café or Tresa’s store.”

  “I’ll find you.”

  Mercy dressed in her britches, then ran to the barn and saddled a sorrel gelding she knew to be gentle. Within minutes she was on the road, and she wanted to urge the horse to go faster but Quill had told her that a horse needed to walk a while before trotting, then trot before loping, so the animal didn’t come up lame. She certainly didn’t want that, but she was anxious and thrilled to see her sister.

  The stage pulled out as Mercy rode up to the store. Patience stood by a tall, handsome man on the boardwalk.

  “Patience!” Mercy dismounted and threw the reins around the hitching rail. “I missed you so much!”

  Patience laughed and hugged Mercy. “We weren’t sure you’d be back from the roundup yet. I’m so glad to see you! I want you to meet my new husband, Stone Kincaid.”

  “Husband?” Mercy grinned. “Good. You had me worried—the wire implied things weren’t going so well.”

 
She hugged her sister, then held her at arm’s length and admired her sister’s attire. “What a beautiful dress.”

  “And you’re dressed like a man, all except for that pink sunbonnet.”

  “It’s a long story—you have to meet Jake.”

  “Is Jake your husband?”

  “No, Jake’s a woman. I’m not married yet—can you stay until Saturday? Quill and I are getting married then.”

  Patience laughed. “As usual, you’re overly enthusiastic and you’re talking in circles. Want to explain those things one at a time?”

  “Let’s go to the café and have coffee. Ray—that’s the Circle ID cook—won’t be here with the wagon for a few hours so we have some time to visit before we leave.”

  “I’m ready to eat,” Stone said.

  “Men are always hungry. At least, Quill and Harper are.” Mercy giggled as she motioned for them to follow her to the café. “You can get a good roast beef dinner here that I’ll guarantee will fill you up. Patience and I can split a meal.”

  They chatted for a while, especially about Quill, but also about Jake and her notions of women owning businesses and why. About the time Mercy thought Ray might show up with the wagon, Patience gasped.

  “Oh, no! I left my valise on the ferry dock. It has letters from Mama and Papa in it that I’m sure you’ll want to read. And other things.”

  “I’ll ride the ferry over and fetch it,” Stone said. “You two can stay here and visit.”

  “We can visit on the ferry just as well,” Patience replied. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  Mercy laughed. “Looks like we’ll all be going.” She didn’t look forward to enduring another ferry trip, and she hoped they could take the trip across and back before Ray got to town so he didn’t have to wait. “But I’m excited for you to see the ranch and meet Quill as soon as he comes in.”

  “And I’m anxious to meet him.”

  “I’ll put the sorrel in the livery and we can catch the next ferry. If Ray’s not here when we get back, let’s go to the store,” Mercy suggested. “I need to buy a few things for the wedding.”

  “Oh, shopping!” Patience clasped her hands to her breast. “I’ve garnered a new affection for the sport.”

  “I’d love to spruce up my wedding dress—we didn’t have funds for lace and such back home, but now I can buy anything I want at the store. Ike gave me carte blanche. Oh, and he gave me his late wife’s sewing machine. It’s old but it works well.”

  Half an hour later, the three of them were on the ferry, headed to the east side of the river.

  * * *

  Quill and Harp got back to the ranch at noon.

  “I’m hungry as a mother bear in the spring,” Harp said as he dismounted.

  “Let’s get these horses unsaddled and rubbed down in a hurry. I’m starved. Ain’t good for a man to go without breakfast.”

  “At least we saved the cow and calf.”

  “That’s a fact.” Quill had worried that they’d lose both of them for a while, but he and his cousin kept working and eventually got the calf pulled. Once they finally got the cow on her feet, she seemed to do a lot better. They’d stayed for an hour, watching her lick her calf. Once the little one started nursing, he reckoned they’d both be fine and told Harp they could leave.

  He wanted to get back because he sure looked forward to eating a hearty dinner with a beautiful woman at his side. He could get used to that. He could especially get used to having her in his bed. Also, he hoped she’d stay around—that he’d been wrong all along and everyone else had been right.

  “Wonder where the sorrel went,” Quill said when he noticed the missing horse.

  Harp shrugged. “Ray likely rode him to town.” He brushed his hands on his britches. “Let’s go see if he left any food for us.”

  “Or maybe Mercy fixed something.” He looked forward to seeing her.

  One step into the house and Quill knew something was wrong. Ray stood at the sink, washing dishes.

  “Where’s Mercy?”

  Ray tossed the towel onto his shoulder. “Went to Henderson Flats to meet her sister—s’posed to come in on the morning stage. I’m fixin’ to drive the wagon in to fetch them.”

  “I’ll do it,” Quill said, a fireball of anxiety in his gut. She hadn’t mentioned her sister, so why now? Was Mercy satisfied now that she had him bagged?

  “I’ll make some sandwiches for you while you hitch up the wagon. I didn’t want to go to town today, anyway.”

  Quill didn’t, either, but he needed to know if he’d made a big mistake. And if he had, he needed to set his uncle straight.

  “I’ll help you hitch it up,” Harp said. “In fact, I’ll do it. The way you smell, you better wash up and change clothes.”

  Harp was right on that score—he had blood and cow manure all over him. “All right, but make it fast.”

  “Got hot water ready.” Ray handed him a bucket of steaming water. “Better shave, too.”

  Ten minutes later, he’d washed, sliced his face a few times, and dressed in clean clothes. As he headed toward the barn, he saw that Harp nearly had the wagon hitched. He hadn’t seen his cousin move that fast since a buxom brunette chased him out of the church social with her fan last summer.

  “I’ll see the two of you in a few hours,” Harp said as he finished and wrapped the lines around the brake. “Bring me back a jug.”

  Quill nodded and climbed on the wagon. He hoped with all his heart that she planned to bring her sister back to the ranch, not go with her to Washington or back East.

  Mercy tore him apart, yet he still wanted her. If that wasn’t the dangedest thing. But he’d rather get in a spitting contest with a rattler than force a woman to stay with him. He wanted a woman who wanted him just as much, and he wouldn’t settle for less.

  So then why was he hellbent on fetching her? That, he couldn’t reconcile, but he couldn’t let her leave without at least an explanation, no matter how much it pained him. He had to know. Or maybe her sister was visiting and Mercy really was fetching her. But that didn’t make sense because she’d need the wagon for her sister’s luggage.

  All the way to town, he argued one side or the other with himself. Was she leaving forever? No, she’d assured him she wouldn’t. He loved her and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her in the Circle ID.

  As he drove into town, he didn’t see the sorrel anywhere. He dismounted and went in Old Lady Hiatt’s store.

  “Has Mercy been in here?”

  “Nope, but I seen her with a nice-looking couple—I hear tell it’s her sister and brother-in-law. You might check the livery.”

  “Good idea.” He headed out without saying good-bye.

  At the livery, a boy pointed at the sorrel. “Got your gelding, Quill.”

  “Where’s the woman who brought him?”

  “She left on the ferry. Said someone from the Circle ID would be picking him up, and here you are. That’ll be two bits, please.”

  So it was true. She’d left him.

  Quill headed for the Silver Sage. He needed a drink or ten and maybe a good fist fight. No women, though. He’d had enough of them.

  Chapter 19

  Mercy didn’t care for the third trip across the river any more than she did the first, but she wasn’t about to let her sister know it.

  “I can hardly wait to read Mama’s letter.” She eyed Patience’s valise, which Stone Kincaid carried.

  “When we get to your ranch,” Patience said. “There’s a reason our parents named me Patience and not you.”

  Her husband coughed and they all laughed.

  They couldn’t dock too soon to suit Mercy. For one thing, she wanted to get back to the ranch before Quill did. He was in for a big surprise, and she loved surprises. “We have so much to talk about. Wait until you meet Quill. He’s so handsome!”

  “Is your wedding all planned?”

  “No, but I want to get married in the parlor. There’s a chur
ch in town but the parlor is special to Ike and I think he’d like us to say our vows there.”

  “Have you talked to the pastor yet? Does this town have a pastor?”

  “No and yes. But Quill knows him and I don’t, so I’ll leave that to him or Ike.”

  “You’ve been here a month and you haven’t met the pastor?”

  “We’ve been away on roundup. Before and after was too hectic to get there. Besides, Ike said the land is our church and I understand that now. Roundup does that to you.”

  “But still—”

  Mercy interrupted her sister. “We’re about to dock, so hang on.”

  Once they disembarked, Patience looked down the street, then asked, “When will your man be here to pick us up?”

  “Ray, the Circle ID cook. I don’t know—depends on what all he had to do before he left. We can visit with Tresa and shop at the same time until he gets here.”

  “Now that’s a plan I like.”

  Mercy hooked her arm with Patience’s. “This way.” The two of them walked to the store with Stone following.

  In the store, Mercy introduced her sister and husband. “Have you seen Ray Fletcher?”

  “Nope, but I seen Quill not fifteen minutes ago. I expect he’s at the feed store on account of he drove the wagon in. If he ain’t there, check the Silver Sage.”

  “I’m not much for shopping.” Stone headed for the door. “How about you ladies do your shopping and I’ll ask around for Quill. Everyone here knows him, right?”

  “Yep,” Tresa said. “Make sure Wilson gives you the good stuff at the Silver Sage.”

  “Yes’m.” Stone waved to his wife as he backed out the door.

  * * *

  Quill didn’t drink often but he was already on his second whiskey.

  “You’re hittin’ it pretty hard there,” Wilson said when Quill asked for the third.

  “Just pour it.”

  He’d been a dad-blamed fool. “Who all generally comes in this time of day?”

  “Depends on who’s in town for supplies. The partyin’ don’t start until later on.”

  Blast and damnation. A man couldn’t even pick a fight in an empty bar.

  The door squeaked as a fellow came in—city fellow, by the looks of him.