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

it ‘til after you drink it down.”
    Ebba took an unconscious step backwards and gave the glass a worried look. “Maybe you shouldn’t have told me that.”
    “There’s nothing bad about it, child. It might taste a little funny, but trust me, it works.”
    Ebba steeled herself and reached for the glass. Once she had it in her hand she sniffed at the contents, grimaced and coughed. It had an odd smell that she could not identify – not terrible, but not exactly pleasant either.
    “Maybe ya oughta hold your nose when ya down it,” Daniel suggested.
    “There’s an idea,” Ebba agreed. “Are you sure this will work? I’ve seen more than my share of doctors, Mrs. Weaver, and none of their tonics have done much for me.”
    “This ain’t some tonic made by a quack. This here is good wholesome … ingredients.”
    “Best just drink it, sweetie,” Daniel said.
    Ebba brought the glass to her lips and took a tentative sip. It didn’t taste any better than it looked, but it was drinkable. She looked at Mrs. Weaver. “There are herbs in here. I can taste them.”
    “Yep – several, in fact. Now drink up. Won’t do you any good while it’s still in the glass.”
    Ebba exhaled, took a deep breath and downed the contents in one shot. She coughed and sputtered a few times, almost dropping the glass in the process. “Thank … you …”
    Daniel patted her on the back. “Maybe she should drink some water now, Ma.”
    “No, that stuff needs to coat her throat – it’ll help with the coughing. You don’t want her hacking all night, do you? Poor thing looks as if she hasn’t had a full night’s sleep for a week as it is.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Weaver,” Ebba managed. “I hope it helps.”
    “It will, you’ll see. Now let’s get you to the hotel and settled. Then you can rest a while before supper.”
    “The hotel?” Ebba said. “I don’t understand why we’re spending the night in town.”
    “It’s on account of everyone who can’t attend the weddin’,” Daniel said. “Not everyone can make it all the way out to our place, so this way they get a chance to meet ya before we leave.”
    “Oh.” Ebba looked between Daniel and his mother. “We’re to be married at your farm?”
    “Yep! It’ll be a lot nicer than having it in some stuffy old church …” Daniel stopped, then quickly corrected himself. “I mean, not that the church here ain’t nice or nothin’, but the weather’s been right fine lately and I thought it might be nicer to get hitched in one of the orchards.”
    Ebba smiled as she pictured the two of them standing beneath blossoming apple trees. “I think I’d like that.” Provided I can breathe through it, she mentally added.
    The man actually blushed! “I was kinda hopin’ ya would.”
    A tingle ran up her spine at the boyish look on his face. “Do you have a lot of apple trees?”
    “An orchard usually does,” he said with a laugh.
    Now it was her turn to blush. “I suppose what I meant was, do you have a lot of orchards?”
    “Sure do,” he said as he studied her face.
    “Ahem,” Mrs. Weaver said. “The hotel?”
    “Oh! Sure, Ma.” Daniel offered Ebba his arm.
    A sudden shyness came over her and she hesitated to take it. When she finally did, a rush of heat hit as if pulsing through his arm to hers, then through the rest of her body. She’d never felt anything like it and wondered if there was something wrong with her. Maybe his mother’s concoction had a few side effects. She blinked a few times to make sure she could still see straight.
    “Is somethin’ wrong, sweetie?” Daniel asked. “Ya ain’t getting’ sick or nothin’, are ya?”
    “No, not at all. I just felt a little … funny for a moment.”
    “Best get her to the hotel, son,” his mother suggested. “She’s going to need to lie down.”
    Daniel looked from Ebba to his mother and back again. “That right, sweetie? Do ya need to lie down quick-like? If so I can carry ya to the