Read Online Mail-Order Bride Ink: Dear Mr. Weaver by Kit Morgan - Free Book Online

smile.
    “Not quite.” He took her shawl from her and wrapped it around her shoulders. “There, now ya are.” He offered her his arm. “Let’s go.”
    She took it as warmth crept its way up her back. It made her whole body relax. For some reason, she wasn’t nervous like she’d been at the restaurant or when the stage first pulled into town. There was something calming about the man walking next to her. She didn’t know what, but she liked it.
    “Aunt Betsy made roast chicken with mashed ‘taters,” he said. “She’s almost as good a cook as Ma.”
    “Sounds wonderful,” she said as they descended the stairs to the hotel lobby.
    “You cook, right?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “I’m sure Ma’ll teach ya all my favorites.”
    For some reason, she felt irritated at his words. Maybe she’d like to stand on her own two feet when it came to her cooking. In fact, many had given her high praise for it, especially when it came to traditional Swedish dishes like fläskpannkaka. Of course, she wasn’t sure what Daniel or his family would think of a pancake full of diced pork, but was sure that’s what they’d call it. Most folks had a hard time pronouncing the actual name.
    She decided to take the high road. “I’d be happy to have her teach me. I can teach her too.”
    He gave her a sideways glance. “Ya can’t teach Ma much she don’t already know.”
    That stung. She stopped. “ Åh? Så din mamma talar svenska ?”
    Daniel’s mouth flopped open. “What … what was that?”
    “ Svenska, ” she said proudly. “Swedish.”
    He gaped at her a moment before he looked her up and down. “Ya speak another language? Well, woo-ee! Ain’t that somethin’?”
    His excitement took her by surprise. “ Ja. ”
    He grinned ear to ear. “Say somethin’ else.”
    She shrugged. “ Vad är för dessert ?”
    “Dessert? Is that a Swedish word?” he asked.
    “No, English.”
    “Oh. Bella sometimes mixes English words in with her Eye-talian.”
    Ebba smiled at his pronunciation and tried not to laugh.
    “What did ya say before that?”
    “Before what?”
    “Before what ya just said?”
    “Oh, I said, ‘so, your mother speaks Swedish?’”
    His smiled faded. “Oh. I guess yer right – ya could teach her too. Ma don’t speak nothin’ but good ol’ English. Better’n I do, at least.”
    Ebba noted the look on his face and wondered if she’d hurt his feelings. He obviously loved his mother very much. “We can teach each other different things.”
    “Yeah, we can,” he agreed. His smile returned. “We’d better get a move on before Ma sends Matty to come look for us.”
    They didn’t speak much the rest of their walk to the mercantile. Just as well – so far they’d both managed to embarrass the other through their own pride, the focus on his mother. She liked Mary Weaver, and didn’t want to do anything to make her dislike the woman.
    By the time they reached their destination, supper was ready and on the table. “About time you two got here,” Ma said as they came into the kitchen.
    “There you are,” added his Aunt Betsy. “Now everyone grab a seat and we’ll get started with the introductions. Then your uncle can say the blessing.”
    Everyone sat. Ebba noticed three empty chairs but kept quiet. Within moments a young couple came into the kitchen followed by Daniel’s uncle. As soon as they were seated, she gave them a smile and a nod of greeting.
    “Matthew, Charlotte, this is your cousin Daniel’s mail-order bride.” Aunt Betsy motioned toward her. “Ava, is it? No, that’s not right …”
    “Eh-bah,” Ma Weaver sounded out. “Land sakes, it’s only four letters. It’s not that hard, Betsy.”
    “Well, how’s a person supposed to know these things?” Betsy shot back. “It’s not a name you hear around these parts.”
    “I think it’s a lovely name,” the young woman at the other end of the table said. “Allow me to introduce myself – I’m Charlotte Quinn.”