Authors: Karen Mercury
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance, #Historical, #Western, #Historical Romance, #Westerns
Working the Lode (29 page)
Cormack looked pensively up at the wood-beamed ceiling. “At least we sanded the water stains off the floorboards in time for the Erskines’ honeymoon.”
In their new San Francisco house, Joaquin had taken over the enormous upstairs bedroom next to theirs. As Zelnora did all of their housekeeping, there was no one to remark upon the connecting door they had built between the rooms. And Joaquin being Joaquin, even if known as Antonio Carillo, no one would have remarked upon it anyway, for fear of having their topknot raised. He had retained much of the wild ferocity of his outlaw days. Even when doing something as innocent as selling wine, through his persuasive skills he perhaps gained more customers than a mild fellow like Erskine did.
But the settlements had domesticated all of them in a way that suited them. Because outlying ranchos were few and far between, the men still traveled a lot, discussing wine with settlers, but when at home in San Francisco, they were the picture of civilized contentment. Thanks to the rough and tumble atmosphere of the booming town, all three were accepted into society. In the melee and muddy confusion of such a frontier, many social mores were set aside or ignored completely. True, the wives of officials were constantly introducing potential fiancées to Joaquin, but he merely smiled dazzlingly and said, “My whole life is my daughter, and my wine.” And then managed to procure yet another large wine order.
The men allowed Zelnora to lead them into the corridor.
Joaquin said, “I just noticed last week. Because of the rain, the door to the basement got warped and won’t close.”
Cormack shrugged as he strode down the corridor. The sun through the olive tree leaves left happy, dappled shadows on his serene face. “I have no excuse for that. Just say the carpenter did it.”
Zelnora walked between the two regal men, lightly holding each of their forearms. The chapel stood at the other end of the garden, where Indian servants were setting up long banquet tables.
Zelnora paused briefly, horrified. “Oh, dear. Why are Quartus’ feet purple?”
Why did Cormack grin at this? He should have been as mortified as her. And Joaquin seemed to laugh under his breath, too. Cormack steered her on to the chapel. “Have no worries, my lovely.”
“But I want this day to be perfect for Mercy!”
“It will, it will…”
“But…he looks like a wild sow that waded through a swamp.”
Cormack patted her hand. “This is a shining day, my flower. And you sure do shine in the biggest kind of crowd.”
Zelnora tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe life is just a dream, and we wake up when we die.”
THE END
www.karenmercury.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Karen knew she wanted to be a writer when she was 3. She sat on her bed gazing at her book,
The Bee Man of Orn
, thinking “What power there is in creating imaginary worlds! The reader is automatically transported into a reality that you created. She hears your characters talking, sees the vistas you painted with words.” Then she realized she had better learn to read.
When Karen was 12, she had a dream of being in a village on the coast of Kenya, so at 23 she bought a one-way plane ticket to Nairobi to find the village. She climbed the Mountains of the Moon in Rwanda to see mountain gorillas, hitchhiked overland through Egypt, Uganda, Zaire, and Zambia, lived with the Turkana in the Northern Frontier District of Kenya, went down the Congo on a decrepit steamer, and sailed up the Nile on a leaky dhow.
Her first three novels were historical fiction involving pre-colonial African explorers. Since she was always either accused or praised (depending how you look at it) for writing overly steamy sex scenes, erotic romance was the natural next step. She is currently writing about the rough and tumble life of the California gold rush, and lives in Northern California with her Newfoundland dog.
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com