Read Online Mercy: Bride of Idaho (American Mail-Order Bride 43) by Jacquie Rogers - Free Book Online
Authors: Jacquie Rogers
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Saga, Family Life, Western, Short-Story, Religious, Christian, Inspirational, Bachelor, Marriage of Convenience, Faith, rancher, Past Issues, Idaho, matchmaking, victorian era, Forever Love, Single Woman, Charade, groom, Fifty-Books, Forty-Five Authors, Newspaper Ad, American Mail-Order Bride, Factory Burned, Pioneer, distrust, Uncle, Forty-Third In Series, Owyhee County, Seventy-Years-Old, Fireball, Mistaken
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eleven—practically a grown man.” The younger brother took a swipe at his sister’s shoulder but she ducked and clobbered him back. “Dammit all, I told you not to call me Teddy no more.” He grinned at Mercy. “You really gonna marry Uncle Ike?”
“No cussin’ till you’re twelve.” Henry frowned and crossed her scrawny arms in front of her chest. “Jake said.”
“You ain’t telling, are you?”
“Depends.”
Ben held up his forefinger at the two of them. “Finish taking care of the horses and then you can argue.” He chuckled and gave them a shove. “Do it right, or Jake’ll have your hide.”
Chapter 8
A whole caravan of neighbors piled in and Mercy lost track shortly after Jake’s family came. Several young men, Harper’s friends, strutted around with their jinglebobs, dancing with every available lady. That included her.
“The fellows are sure smitten with you, as well they should be,” Ike said when Mercy returned to his side, nearly breathless after a vigorous polka. “You are beautiful tonight. That blue dress becomes you.”
“Thank you.” But she noticed a dearth of single young ladies, so she didn’t take his compliment much to heart.
“It certainly does,” another lady, named Suzanne if Mercy remembered right, said. “Did you make that? Because I was admiring the same material at the store but I didn’t think my sewing skills could do it justice. I was right because you’re very talented.”
Mercy could feel warmth creeping up her cheeks—that blasted blush again. “You flatter me more than I deserve. I bought the material Monday morning because I didn’t have anything that would be nice to wear for the party.”
Ike chuckled. “You could wear longjohns and be beautiful.”
She felt exhilarated with all the music, laughter, and dancing. It seemed as if the world partied with them that night. As the hours passed, more spirits were not so discreetly passed around. With the liquor came a good bit of rowdiness, and the barn warmed with the crowd. Mercy loved watching it all. She’d never seen an inebriated person other than the drunks on the street, so the whole affair fascinated her.
Harper’s friends, some of whom had striking good looks, whooped it up—laughing and dancing. Several of them grabbed her for a spin around the dance floor. She had to be careful to pick up her feet, since dancing on planks was a lot different than on a finished floor, not to mention the ever-present danger of getting her toes stomped. The two-step and the polka were popular. She could waltz better, but these fellows two-stepped to every song, including waltzes. Mercy found the whole thing amusing, especially when they had to hop around to get their feet back under them.
Two of Harper’s friends had a friendly spat over who got to dance with her next. She settled the feud by begging off. “Please, I need a refreshment.”
“I’ll bring you a drink,” a man offered.
Harper stepped to her side. “Back off, Sully.”
Mercy was glad to visit the refreshment table with Harper. She spied some pretty pink punch. “I’d like some of that.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
It looked so pretty, it had to be good. “Yes. I’m very thirsty.”
Harper ladled out a large glass and gave it to her. “Enjoy.” Then he steered her toward the benches where Ike sat. “I think you ought to be sitting when you drink it.”
The punch tasted a little strong but she was mighty thirsty. After she’d drunk half, she just couldn’t stop smiling. “Isn’t this the most wonderful party?” She gave Ike a sideways hug and he chuckled.
“Yep, especially with a little pick-me-up in the punch. Of course, it’s looking to me like we’ll be picking you up.”
She giggled. “What a strange remark! But I find everyone here so friendly. I was a wee bit afraid that people wouldn’t like
“No cussin’ till you’re twelve.” Henry frowned and crossed her scrawny arms in front of her chest. “Jake said.”
“You ain’t telling, are you?”
“Depends.”
Ben held up his forefinger at the two of them. “Finish taking care of the horses and then you can argue.” He chuckled and gave them a shove. “Do it right, or Jake’ll have your hide.”
Chapter 8
A whole caravan of neighbors piled in and Mercy lost track shortly after Jake’s family came. Several young men, Harper’s friends, strutted around with their jinglebobs, dancing with every available lady. That included her.
“The fellows are sure smitten with you, as well they should be,” Ike said when Mercy returned to his side, nearly breathless after a vigorous polka. “You are beautiful tonight. That blue dress becomes you.”
“Thank you.” But she noticed a dearth of single young ladies, so she didn’t take his compliment much to heart.
“It certainly does,” another lady, named Suzanne if Mercy remembered right, said. “Did you make that? Because I was admiring the same material at the store but I didn’t think my sewing skills could do it justice. I was right because you’re very talented.”
Mercy could feel warmth creeping up her cheeks—that blasted blush again. “You flatter me more than I deserve. I bought the material Monday morning because I didn’t have anything that would be nice to wear for the party.”
Ike chuckled. “You could wear longjohns and be beautiful.”
She felt exhilarated with all the music, laughter, and dancing. It seemed as if the world partied with them that night. As the hours passed, more spirits were not so discreetly passed around. With the liquor came a good bit of rowdiness, and the barn warmed with the crowd. Mercy loved watching it all. She’d never seen an inebriated person other than the drunks on the street, so the whole affair fascinated her.
Harper’s friends, some of whom had striking good looks, whooped it up—laughing and dancing. Several of them grabbed her for a spin around the dance floor. She had to be careful to pick up her feet, since dancing on planks was a lot different than on a finished floor, not to mention the ever-present danger of getting her toes stomped. The two-step and the polka were popular. She could waltz better, but these fellows two-stepped to every song, including waltzes. Mercy found the whole thing amusing, especially when they had to hop around to get their feet back under them.
Two of Harper’s friends had a friendly spat over who got to dance with her next. She settled the feud by begging off. “Please, I need a refreshment.”
“I’ll bring you a drink,” a man offered.
Harper stepped to her side. “Back off, Sully.”
Mercy was glad to visit the refreshment table with Harper. She spied some pretty pink punch. “I’d like some of that.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
It looked so pretty, it had to be good. “Yes. I’m very thirsty.”
Harper ladled out a large glass and gave it to her. “Enjoy.” Then he steered her toward the benches where Ike sat. “I think you ought to be sitting when you drink it.”
The punch tasted a little strong but she was mighty thirsty. After she’d drunk half, she just couldn’t stop smiling. “Isn’t this the most wonderful party?” She gave Ike a sideways hug and he chuckled.
“Yep, especially with a little pick-me-up in the punch. Of course, it’s looking to me like we’ll be picking you up.”
She giggled. “What a strange remark! But I find everyone here so friendly. I was a wee bit afraid that people wouldn’t like
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