Stealing Mercy by Kristy Tate

Author:Kristy Tate [Tate, Kristy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Adventure, historical fiction, sweet romance, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 1463793138
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2011-07-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

There are four ingredients in a standard piecrust: flour, fat, liquid, and salt. Flour is necessary to form the crust’s structure and bulk. Fat adds flavor and creates a flaky texture. Liquid binds the dough and keeps it pliable. Salt enhances the flavor.

From The Recipes of Mercy Faye

Mercy screamed as a dark cloak smelling of tea and smoke went over her head. She felt strong arms encircling her waist and threatening to pull her away from Trent. He had a hold of her hand and she could feel her fingers folding in on one another in his grip. She screamed and kicked as the arms lifted her from the boardwalk. The smell of the cloak caught in her throat and she fought back rising bile.

The arms, like two small steel bands, tightened around her waist and cut off her breath. She flayed her arms, groping for Trent in the near darkness. She heard him swearing, and then she heard a muffled voice she recognized. She went still.

“Young Lee?” she asked. “Is this you?”

Suddenly the arms loosened and she fell to the ground and landed on her bottom. She scrambled to stand and cast off the cloak. Trent stood before her, fists poised. Young Lee, wiping the blood from his lip, had jumped into a crouch. Young Lee made a low guttural noise that Mercy associated with wild animals. She flung the cloak at him and stepped in front of Trent.

“Stop!” she screamed. Holding up her hands, she placed herself between the two sparring men. Each looked ready to kill and Mercy realized that Trent must not have been carrying a gun, because his hands were empty. Young Lee, however, held a strange shiny object in the shape of a star that glinted in the early moonlight. “Stop,” she repeated, her voice taking on a pleading tone.

Neither man moved.

“Young Lee,” Mercy said, her voice shaking. “This is Mr. Michaels, he’s a friend of mine.”

Young Lee didn’t look convinced, but he lowered his arms a fraction and stood a little taller. “Friend?”

“Yes,” Mercy said, inhaling deeply. “He’s a friend.”

She cast a nervous glance at Trent. “Trent, this is Young Lee. He works for my aunt.”

Trent raised his fists. “Why the cloak?”

“He no look friendly,” Young Lee asked at the same time. “Why he grab you?”

Mercy placed her hand on Trent’s arm and managed to push it down. “See, he won’t harm me.”

The small man stood straight, legs spread, arms crossed, and lids lowered. “I no like this friend. He not good friend for you.”

“Well, that may or may not be true,” Mercy bit back a nervous laugh of relief, “but, we’re going home now, so you see, I’m perfectly safe.”

“If he’d been a good friend, he no bring you here.”

“Aw, so we agree on something,” Trent said, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

“I didn’t twist your arm,” Mercy said. “You came on your own.”

“Only because I thought if I didn’t accompany you, you’d come on your own.”

Mercy flushed.

“Am I right?” Trent argued.

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