Free Brides of Texas by Cathy Marie Hake Page A

trade.”
    “In case you didn’t notice, I didn’t ask what you thought.”
    “We pledged Da we’d stay together.”
    “I’m still in Texas!”
    “Not good enough,” Rob shot back.
    Chris banged his fist against the back of a chair. “I’m not about to concede to your whims. Not after you decided our house needs to have more frills than an Easter bonnet.”
    “Sore over that, are you?”
    “No.” The corner of Chris’s mouth kicked up. “Any gingerbread’s going to go on Duncan’s workshop, and I’ll pound you into the ground if you warn him.”
    “You haven’t succeeded in distracting me. I still expect you to put mining behind you after these last two days of consulting.”
    “You haven’t distracted me, either. Duncan gets any of the silly frills.”
    Rob nodded. “We have a deal.”
    “You’ve wasted half the morning. I have a stupid basement to dig in the heat of the day now that you’re done clucking like a hen.”
    Rob grabbed his medical satchel and a slip of paper. He’d already composed the order for the house—including all of the “standard” features, which included a plethora of the frills Chris was grousing about. In addition to the house, Rob had estimated enough boards to construct the partitions in the downstairs to create the washroom and Duncan’s workshop. He grinned to himself. Chris agreed to the bargain that Duncan got all of the gingerbread—but Chris didn’t consider one important fact: Duncan could put the gingerbread wherever he wanted to.

    “Grossvater is in the cornfield.” Mercy pinned Peter’s shirt to the clothesline.
    Doc didn’t stride off. Instead, he announced, “I sent for the house and extra lumber to construct Duncan’s workshop.”
    “The men will all want to help, but this kit—will it come with instructions?”
    “Aye, and each piece is numbered. ‘Twill require two cars on the train to hold all of the material.”
    Mercy kept hanging up clothes. “Two! That much to make a house?”
    “It surprised me, too.” Rob reached over and held the hem of the dress she’d taken from the basket.
    “You’ll get wet.” She tried to tug it away.
    “I’m sweltering, lass. That’s not a threat; ’tis a promise.” After she pinned the calico dress to the line, he pinched the cloth on either side of the waist. “You’ll be needing new frocks soon.”
    Mercy pretended she hadn’t seen nor heard him.
    “You’ve not asked, and I’m—”
    “I’m not asking anything.” She snapped a dishcloth in the air, then savagely pinned it up.
    “Between Christmas and New Year’s.” His words came out in a patient tone. “I just thought you might want to know.”
    Heat soared from her bodice to her forehead. Rattled, she tried to jam the wrong end of a clothespin onto the line.
    “If it’s too hard for you to discuss, I could write down a few things for you.”
    “Let me be!” Once she cried out the words, Mercy felt guilty. “I don’t want to be rude. Just please leave me alone.”
    “I respect you immensely, Miss Stein, and I’ll respect your wishes.” He didn’t even pause but changed the topic. “Your grandda is healing better than I anticipated, but I’d best not find him working too hard. If he is, I’ll scold him like he’s six instead of sixty.”
    “Duncan’s with him.”
    “Good, good.” He nodded. “Duncan’s grown quite fond of your grandda and Peter. They didn’t get a single nibble whilst fishing yester noon because the three of them kept trading jokes and made too much noise.”
    “Fish don’t have ears.”
    “Ah, but they do.” The doctor pulled a pair of britches from the basket and held it to the line so she could hang it. “They have an ear stone and little hairs inside at the back of the head. They sense vibration—much like you feel the vibration of a tuning fork or a bell.”
    “Hmm.”
    “Just because we canna see something doesna mean ’tisn’t there.”
    Everyone knows that. Why would he say