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

for the stew.”
    “That’s somethin’ ya wouldn’t have to worry about anyway. I’m payin’ for yer lunch.”
    “I thought that might be the case, but on the other hand, if you don’t have to …”
    He laughed. “I see what yer saying. Maybe if’n we do these dishes, he won’t charge me for nothin’.”
    “One never knows,” she said, her eyes bright. The food had definitely done her some good. Before she’d looked tired, haggard even. But now she seemed right as rain as far as he could tell. Of course, he didn’t really know her yet, but that would be remedied the moment they married – in more ways than one.
    Until then, Daniel was content to enjoy doing dishes with his future bride.

Chapter 5
    E bba did her best not to just stare at her intended. Daniel Weaver was much bigger than she’d first thought, now that she found herself next to him. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder.
    But more important than his physique was his character. She had a list of moral attributes she wanted in a husband and hoped he could fill it. Yes, a literal list. She’d worked it up on the train trip west to fill time, revised it here and there along the way, and was now ready to start ticking off Mr. Weaver’s qualifications. She at least wanted to know if she’d get most of what she’d hoped for in a husband.
    So far she liked that he’d offered to help Hank with the extra workload. That poor man was trying to do everything. Maybe if her husband’s farm wasn’t too far out of town, she could come help him out a few days a week – perhaps even earn a little extra cash for the family. She wasn’t averse to hard work. Besides, being indoors was better than being outdoors, where the air could send her into a fit of sneezing.
    “I’m sorry I ain’t asked ya yet,” Daniel said, “but how was yer journey?”
    “Very tiring, but I managed to get some sleep at the last couple of stage stops.”
    “Did ya stop at the Gundersons’?” he asked. “It’s the last stage stop before ya reach Nowhere. We sell fruit to Mrs. Gunderson every year.”
    “Yes, we did. That’s where I met Sheriff Hughes.”
    “Harlan’s a right fine fella. But I already told ya that.”
    “He certainly is. I … hope he and your mother are able to spend time together, like he plans.”
    “Bein’ as how he was so quick to offer his assistance earlier, it’s a good bet they will.”
    “She was going into a saloon – of course he would offer.”
    “Yes, but around here everyone knows Ma.” He winked. “And I’ll let ya in on a little secret.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Ma don’t need no escort. Once she starts givin’ orders, the menfolk ‘round here jump to get things done.”
    “Really? Why is that?”
    He shrugged. “Always been like that, for as long as I can remember. She may be little, but she’s got more bark to go with her bite than most armies.”
    Ebba laughed. “I’ll be sure to behave myself around her. I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”
    “Not much chance of that ‘less ya do somethin’ real stupid. Trust me, I know.”
    “Oh dear. I can’t imagine what you could have done to bring about her wrath.”
    To her surprise, he cringed. “Just don’t mention wells ‘round Ma and ya’ll be fine.”
    “Wells?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”
    He chuckled. “Ya will if’n ya mention ‘em, especially if’n my name is in the same sentence. Try it one day and see what happens.”
    She smiled lopsidedly. “I’m not sure I should, not after listening to you.”
    He was about to reply when his mother walked into the kitchen. “There you are!” Mrs. Weaver crossed the room to where she stood, a glass in her hand. “Here you go, child. Swig this down and you should be fine.”
    Ebba dried her hands on her dishtowel and stared at the glass. “What is it?”
    Mrs. Weaver swirled the brownish liquid around a few times. “My own invention. But I’d better not tell you what’s in