Mercy: Bride of Idaho (American Mail-Order Bride 43) by Jacquie Rogers

your skin any.”
    “It makes me nervous not to be able to see anything.  Will you stay by me?”  She’d told the truth, but it had the added benefit of maybe keeping him near her.  She craved his reassuring presence.
    He took the hat off his head and settled it over her face.  “Every second, sugar.”  He held her free hand and petted the back of it.  His touch was definitely a distraction.  Then she heard a yip and Lobo jumped on her legs.
    “At least with your hat on my face, he’s not licking me.”  Her voice sounded muffled under his Stetson.
    “No, he’s licking me.”  She felt him move over her.  “Get on, now, Dog.”
    Then Inky meowed and curled up beside her ear for a nice little snooze.  Mercy didn’t know Inky had come along.  Whoever heard of a cat on a roundup?
    In the background, she heard Jake and the men talking but couldn’t quite understand what they said.
    “How long do you think it will take them to get here with the branch?”
    “Anytime now.  We’re gonna get some ropes around that boulder and put a chock under the side by your head, so we’ll get started on that now.  Then, we’ll be all ready to get you out of here.”
    “I’m looping a rope around Mercy’s legs, too,” Jake said.  “If that boulder moves an inch, we can drag her out even if it falls the wrong way.”
    Quill patted her hand again.  “You hear that?  We might scuff you up some, but we’ll get you out in one piece.”
    She heard frequent footsteps crunching on the loose rocks, and a lot of mumbling.  Sunburn or not she wanted to see what was going on.  Inky slept through it all.  Then she heard some more commotion—wood clanking on rock and men huffing and puffing.
    “About time you got here,” Jake said.
    “Have you ever tried hauling a log up a fifty-foot boulder?” a man griped.  “I’ll set a spell and help when you get it ready.”
    “No, you won’t,” Quill growled.  “Y’all get over here.”  To Mercy, he murmured, “I’ll stay right with you.  Don’t worry yourself none.”
    Mercy listened as he instructed the others where to put the pole.  “I’ll push from the side she’s on while you lift the boulder.  Jake, you’re in charge of the pole.  Sully, get over here and help me push.”
    “That ain’t a good idea, Quill.  If the boulder tips sideways, we’ll be grease spots.”  She reckoned Sully said that.
    After some arguing, they got to work, grunting and groaning.  She heard the boulder move and did have trepidations, but knew that Quill would keep her safe.  Finally, her braid was freed and she felt the rope tighten around her legs.  The boulder crashed down the hill as they pulled her to safety, knocking Quill’s hat off her face in the process.
    “Thank you.” She scrambled to her feet as best she could, which reminded her right away that she was saddle sore—but she wasn’t about to let Quill know it.  She hugged him right there in front of everyone.  “You were wonderful.”
    He held her by the waist and pulled her even closer, but only for a moment, then he seemed to remember to keep his distance, and pushed her way.  But that one moment held promise for wondrous things to come, and Mercy was determined that she would get her man.
    “Let’s get you down to the camp and have Whip check you over.”
    Now that the excitement had ended, Mercy was ready for a good meal.  “I’m hoping he’ll give me some of that stew he’s been cooking.  It smells delicious.”
    Jake laughed.  “She’s a mite on the scrawny side and cute as a button, but I reckon she’s as tough as any man here.”
    Mercy felt honored that Jake had said that, and she might even have believed it if her legs didn’t ache so much.  “Where’s Lobo?”
    “Dog’s down with Ike,” Quill said.  “I reckon there was too many people up here to suit him.”
    “Then let’s go.  I’ve been on this pile of rocks too long.”
    “You had us all worried there