Free Mercy: Bride of Idaho (American Mail-Order Bride 43) by Jacquie Rogers

as the other ranchers and their outfits arrived at the Circle ID.  Dog wagged his tail—he knew something was happening.  A man could fool another man, but he could never fool a dog.  Cat’s hair stood straight up and he eyed Quill suspiciously.
    As expected, Jake and her bunch were the first to show up—Jake was never late.  B.J. rode a few paces behind her on his Shetland pony, between Homer and Teddy, who both rode full size mounts.  They’d been working cattle their whole lives and were as useful as grown men for anything that didn’t require a lot of heft.  A dozen hands followed, herding the Bar EL remuda.
    It took an hour longer than Quill wanted, but all the ranchers finally showed up at the Circle ID, which made for more of a circus atmosphere than a working ranch’s, and the whole outfit was finally ready to ride.
    “Everybody ready?” Quill shouted.  “Canteens full?”
    Nearly all the men hooted and hollered, for it was fun to go on roundup even though it was danged hard work.  But the freedom of riding on the range had buried itself in every man’s heart.  Quill glanced at Jake and smiled.  He knew she felt the same way.
    “Mount up, then.”  To Jake, he said, “There’s two times of the year—roundup, and the rest of the year.”
    “That’s a fact.  I just hope this bunch of beef-headed rascals is up to the job.  We have quite a few new hands in the crew.”
    “We’ll make do, we always have.” He waved to all the cowhands.  “Let’s ride!”  Quill nudged Horse to a walk and Dog moseyed along beside.  Then he ran back to Mercy, who held Cat, and nuzzled her hand, then jumped and barked as if he wanted her to come along.
    “C’mon, Dog,” Quill yelled, and the brown mutt trotted back to Quill’s side, but looked back at Mercy a few times.
    “Looks like Dog wants Mercy to come along,” Jake said.
    “She’d be useless.”  His voice sounded a mite more gruff than he’d intended.
    Until the crews all got the hang of where they were supposed to ride in relation to the rest of the roundup cowhands, Quill didn’t want to travel too fast, but in twenty minutes or so, he’d pick up the pace.
    “Wait!” he heard Mercy call.  “You forgot your new chaps.”
    She ran out, skirts flying, clutching a bundle to her bosom, and handed it to him.  The package was neatly wrapped in blue calico tied with a red ribbon.  “I didn’t have much choice for wrapping, but I finished with your chaps not long before the dance, and afterward I didn’t have time to find anything better.  I hope they serve you well.”
    He took the package, a mite touched that she’d worked so hard on something for him.  “Much obliged.  See you in a few weeks.” 
    She smiled that sweet smile at him, the one that went straight to his heart every time, then she picked up her skirts, ran back to the porch, and stood next to Uncle Ike.  The two of them waved until Quill couldn’t see them anymore.
    Whether he was happier to finally be getting away from Mercy and all her temptations, or whether he was sorrowful to leave her, he couldn’t say.  She wouldn’t stay a single woman for long, though, that he knew for sure.  Not just because of her physical beauty, either.  She shined happiness from the inside out and every man who met her wanted to bask in her sunshine.
    Except him.  He had no interest in risking his heart on any woman, especially her.
    Jake’s baby started squalling.  She tucked him under her poncho and pretty soon Quill heard suckling noises.
    “That baby sure does eat a lot,” he said.
    “He’s a big boy and he’ll grow into a big man—gotta give him a good start.”
    Quill wouldn’t mind a couple boys tagging along after him, and some girls, too.  Little girls with red hair and sunny dispositions—like Mercy.  He could do without the stubbornness, though.  But stubborn as she was, would she stay around to raise the kids?  Would she stay around long enough to have