Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set Read Online Free PDF Page A

her couldn’t help wondering about George. Or the man with him, the tall and tough-looking store owner. Was that the rumble of Cole’s baritone through the floorboards? And why was she straining to listen?
    “Well, you know about the sledding.” Amelia scrunched up her face, most adorably. She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling, thinking. “I tend to get in trouble at school for whispering or writing notes to my friends on my slate.”
    “I have a hard time imagining that,” Mercy gently teased.
    “I know! I try to be good, I really do, but I’m naturally bubbly.” Amelia didn’t seem all that troubled by it. “I have snowball making down to a fine art. No one can make a better one than me. The trick is to spit on it just a little. It ices up, so it holds together better when you throw it.”
    “Good to know.” Mercy wondered just exactly what kind of influence Amelia might be on poor George. An aspect she hadn’t considered when she’d been in North Carolina, trying to decide which newspaper advertisement to answer.
    A tap of footsteps caught her attention. A floorboard squeaked as a man’s heavy gait marched closer, accompanied by the patter of a boy’s. Her attention leaped, eager to gaze upon her son and see how he was doing, but her senses seemed focused on the tall, shadowed man pausing outside the open door to grip the fallen satchels.
    Oh, my. His thick dark hair swirled in a thick whirl around his crown and fell to his collar. As he straightened, hauling the satchels with him, muscles bunched and played beneath the material of his shirt. He strode powerfully into the room like a man more suited to the wild outdoors, hefting a rifle at a bear, perhaps. He dominated the room and made her pulse skid to a stop. He looked immense with his broad shoulders and muscled girth. When he caught her watching him, he jerked his gaze away, staring hard at the floor.
    “I’ll put these in the bedroom.” The smoky pitch of his tone came gruff and distant. As if he didn’t want to talk to her. He said nothing more, crossing behind the couch, where she couldn’t see him, where his step drummed in the room like a hollow heartbeat. “George, did you want to come along?”
    “Yes, sir!” The boy hurried after him, disappearing into the shadowed, narrow hallway.
    Mercy didn’t know why her chest ached so much it hurt to breathe. Her husband-to-be was doing his best to avoid her. He was courteous and responsible toward her, but she felt a vast distance settling between them. It felt lonely.
    “Pa?” Amelia hopped to her feet with a flat-footed thud. “What about supper? We are gonna have Ma and George over, right?”
    “She’s not your ma yet.” His voice thundered from the far room, sounding muffled and irritated. Something landed on the floor. Likely the satchels. “It’ll be best to let Mercy and George settle into their rooms. They’ve traveled a long way. They must be tired, right, George?”
    “Sorta.” The boy’s thin response sounded uncertain. “I was kinda hopin’ to see your horses.”
    “I have tomorrow set aside for that.” Cole’s tone warmed and he strode into sight with the child at his side. What an image they made. Towering man, little boy. “You want to be rested up because it’ll be a big day. A good day, I promise you that. Besides, I’m going to bed early to be set and ready to go come morning.”
    “Then I will be, too.” George nodded, his face scrunching up determinedly. “Will I really get to ride tomorrow?”
    “My word of honor.” Cole ran his big hand lightly over the top of the boy’s head, a fatherly gesture. “But there’s more to riding horses. You also have to learn how to take care of them.”
    “I know. I’m good at sweeping the steps whenever Ma tells me to. That’s sorta like cleaning a barn. Do I get my own pitchfork?”
    “I got one especially for you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Cole stepped away, and for an instant a