Mercer's Belles by Heather B. Moore & Teri Harman & Linda Carroll-Bradd

Author:Heather B. Moore & Teri Harman & Linda Carroll-Bradd [Moore, Heather B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western, Romance, Clean and Wholesome, Timeless Western Collection
Publisher: Mirror Press
Published: 2019-09-17T05:00:00+00:00

January 29, 1866

The Upper Saloon

Cora sat in the saloon, the favorite gathering place of the passengers, and focused on the book in her hands. The saloon was long and narrow, dotted with square tables at one end, with an open space in the middle and a sleek grand piano on the other end. The walls were paneled in yellow oak, the floor dark walnut. Simple, wide chandeliers hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly from the movement of the ship and casting a lovely glow throughout the room.

The ship had a small library, and Cora had managed to find a book on herbal remedies for common ailments. Content to listen to the background sounds of Miss Ida Barlow at the piano and the comforting hum of conversation, Cora enjoyed her quiet corner table. Several of the women had pulled chairs into a large circle in the middle of the room and were busy knitting with the great skeins of yarn Mr. Mercer had produced for them. Everyone was in high spirits, the sickness of the past weeks forgotten.

“Do you not wish to knit, Mrs. Martin?”

Cora looked up from a page on the pain-relieving qualities of St. John’s wort to find Mr. Mercer standing over her table. His fiery, strange hair always caught her off guard, but his greasy smile made the effect far worse. She stiffened so as not to flinch away. “No, thank you, Mr. Mercer. I prefer to read. Alone.”

Alone, Mercer. Go away.

“That’s too bad. You really should socialize with the other women; you’re on your own far too often. And it’s important to work on your domestic skills. Don’t you want your new husband to have some nice warm socks?”

Cora gripped the edges of the book. Mercer walked the halls of the ship with a thick air of superiority, dispensing unsolicited advice to all the ladies like some impressive father figure, pulling apart couples, breaking up card games, insisting on early bedtimes, and gathering groups to spout sermons about purity and honesty—only to be found sneaking off with his own choice of young lady soon after. He’d become quite a joke among the crew and passengers. Roger Conant had taken to calling him Old Red and often sent groups of girls into fits of giggles with melodramatic impressions of the odd leader.

Bite your tongue. Be polite. Even if he’s a detestable twit.

Cora forced a ladylike smile. “You forget, Mr. Mercer, that I’m a nurse and a widow. I have many skills and no need for another husband. Enjoy your evening.” Cora lowered her head and focused her eyes on her book, hoping he would honor her dismissal and go pester one of the younger girls. He stood there for a brief moment and then spun away in retreat. Cora half smiled and sighed with relief. She flipped the page and read only a few sentences before another masculine shadow fell over her book.

“Good evening, fair nurse.” Roger Conant grinned down at her, looking dashing in a black suit and tan waistcoat.

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