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Page 6


  John Bennett was there just before two every afternoon for his lunch, and Millie was convinced he and Widow Sanders would be perfect for one another. John wanted a wife. Widow Sanders needed a husband and father for her children. Her boys were five and seven, and they were the wildest, most out of control boys Millie had ever seen. Of course, she thought of John Bennett when she looked at them.

  "Yes," Mary Sanders responded, nodding. "I'd be happy to do that." She seemed pleased at the invitation.

  Millie thought the other woman looked terribly tired all the time, and she wanted to help her, so she decided to make her into her new project.

  It would work out perfectly, just like all her plans did. Look how her plan to come to Idaho and marry him had worked out. She'd done well. She was happy to have found a way to show Connor that he'd been right to marry her. He would sing her praises once she found a good husband for the sweet widow.

  Chapter 7

  Connor asked why Millie was watching the Sanders children that afternoon, but didn't have a problem with it even though he never got a straight answer. When she fed them chicken and dumplings, and the boys actually stayed put instead of tearing up his kitchen, he really didn't mind. When he'd first seen her bring them into the kitchen, he'd been skeptical about whether they'd sit still and behave.

  She served their two guests at the same table, waiting for them to strike up a conversation and become friends. She was certain the two would be engaged before dessert and married before the day was out, and then everyone would be singing her praises. It didn't quite work out as she'd planned, though.

  By dessert the two were standing up and yelling at one another. It seemed that John thought that now she had no husband, Mary Sanders should sell him her ranch for pennies on the dollar so he could add it to his own sprawling acres. Mary, for her part, thought that John should stay on his land and her land should be left for her boys.

  When Millie carried their dessert into the dining room, she quickly put the pie down and rushed between them. "Oh, no, you mustn't fight! Don't you see? You two would be perfect for each other. John needs a wife, and you need a husband and father for your sweet boys." Millie hated to have to point out how brilliant her plan was to them. Why hadn't they seen it on their own?

  "Sweet boys?" John bellowed. "Those two think throwing rocks at old women on their way to church is a good way to pass a Sunday morning. They're hellions and need to be beaten!"

  "Don't you call my boys names, John Bennett! I seem to recall you playing terrible pranks on everyone when you were a boy."

  "That doesn't mean that I don't now see that it wasn't the right thing to do! Those boys need to be taken in hand, Mary! They're awful!"

  Mary stomped as hard as she could on John's foot, before rushing to the kitchen to collect her boys. She wouldn't even look at Millie as she ran out the door and hurried back to the hotel dragging a boy with each hand.

  John threw money onto the table to pay for his meal before stomping out the door, for once not trying to talk Millie into running away with him.

  Millie frowned as she was left alone in the dining room. That hadn't gone well, but it was because the people involved hadn't cooperated. She'd find some other way to show Connor that she was worthy of his love. There were any number of things she could do to impress him. She'd just have to stay on the lookout.

  Millie was in the mercantile the following afternoon, looking for fabrics, which were on the bottom shelf along the back wall. A young mother did her best to reach one of the jars of canned goods on the top shelf, but she couldn't get to it, so Millie got it down for her. She ended up getting down four jars for the younger woman. "Thank you so much! I wish he wouldn't put so many of the things I need up so high."

  As the other woman left, Millie looked at the wall. It did seem rather strange to her that the food would be up so high, but the fabric would be on the bottom. She didn't think twice about helping the store owner as she rearranged the shelves. She didn't know why no one ever arranged things in a logical manner. It only made sense that the things that people needed the most would be lower. She didn't care if she didn't get thanks for what she did. She simply wanted to help people.

  When she was finished, she took her purchases to the front and paid for them with a smile, knowing the proprietor would be thrilled with her work when he had a chance to notice it. He would surely see the logic of what she'd done.

  Just as she was leaving the store, she heard a loud crash and looked to the back. A child was standing with a broken jar scattered on the floor around him. Millie shook her head, hoping his mother would keep a better eye on him in the future. What kind of parent let their child run amok that way?

  She walked into the park and over to sit on the bench in front of the fountain. One of the ladies that she'd gotten to know since she'd been in town, Lilah, approached her and sat down beside her. "How do you like Gullet Gulch?"

  Millie smiled and nodded happily. "I love it here. I think it's a beautiful place. I feel like I belong here already." She stretched her feet out in front of her, carefully keeping her ankles crossed. The sun felt good on her face. It was mid-September, and it was already starting to get cooler.

  "I'm glad. I was a little worried you would feel like you didn't fit in, what with you being a substitute bride and all. Do you ever hear from you friend Berta? That was the name of the woman who was supposed to marry Connor, right?"

  Millie gritted her teeth. "Yes, that was her name. We write every week. She was my very best friend back home, you know. She's expecting her first." She was pleased to see the other woman's reaction to her words.

  Lilah looked shocked. "Already expecting? How can that be?"

  Millie smiled. "I've been here a month, and she married over two weeks before I arrived. Plenty of time for her to be carrying." Millie didn't really know if her friend was carrying, but Berta had hinted that she thought she might be.

  Lilah frowned. "But why did you have to lock her in a closet and steal her train ticket if she was already married?"

  "Lock her in a closet and steal her train ticket? What makes you think I did that?" Why would someone think she would do such a thing? She'd never done anything that bad in her life.

  Lilah shook her head. "That's just what I heard."

  "Well, it wasn't true. Not at all. She married someone else and decided not to come, so I came in her place." Millie couldn't believe people were spreading rumors about her. Why, she'd thought everyone in town loved her up until that very moment.

  "Even though you didn't know how to cook."

  Millie looked at Lilah suspiciously. "How did you know that I didn't know how to cook?" She knew Connor wouldn't have told anyone that she couldn't cook. He just wasn't like that.

  Lilah shrugged. "Well, you weren't supposed to be waiting tables, you were supposed to be cooking. When you started out waiting tables, we all knew you couldn't cook. Poor Connor. He sure got the short end of that stick, didn't he?"

  Millie stood, her back to the other woman. "I have a lot of positive attributes, Lilah. Perhaps if you weren't looking for only the negative you'd find one or two." She worked hard to keep her temper in check as she walked. Why did people think so little of her? She was a good person, and she couldn't imagine why anyone would think otherwise.

  She walked back to the hotel with her head held high. Why on earth had that woman chosen to say such terrible things to her? Millie had been nothing but loving and helpful since she'd arrived.

  Millie walked into the hotel lobby to find a sweet elderly gentleman sitting on a sofa along one wall waiting for someone. She immediately sat next to him. "How are you today? Is there anything I can get you while you wait?" She patted his hand as she spoke to him.

  The man shook his head sadly. "Nothing anyone can get me anymore I don't reckon. My wife is gone."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." She patted his hand softly. "How did she die?" Millie's heart ached for the sweet man. She couldn't imagine how her
life would be if she ever lost Connor. He was her rock.

  "Now, I don't recall saying she was dead. I said she's gone. She went out East on the last train to live with our daughter, Pamela. Said she couldn't stand to look at me or smell me for another minute."

  Millie forced herself not to wrinkle her nose at the man's words. He did smell rather...ripe. "You can't go to her?" Why if Connor left her that way, she'd be on the first train chasing him down.

  The man shook his head forlornly. "I don't have no money to go with her. She took the last of the money we had."

  "Oh, that's terrible." Millie dug some money out of the small drawstring purse that was attached to her wrist, pressing it into the man's hand. "Why don't you follow your wife out East and see your daughter. Do you have grandchildren?" She loved the idea of helping the sweet old man. Besides, she was certain the smell of the town could only be improved by his departure.

  "No, ma'am." The man's eyes were sparkling as he smiled at her. "Thank you so much for your help."

  "I'm so happy I could be of assistance," she told him. She was thrilled she'd done something nice for someone. She couldn't wait until Connor heard about it. Then he'd know she was the perfect wife for him.

  That night, just as they climbed into bed together, they heard gunshots from the street, followed by a bawdy song. The voice sounded like that of the old man she'd helped earlier, but that just couldn't be. He was resting up for his journey East, wasn't he?

  Connor pulled her against him, her head on his shoulder. He sighed. "Who gave that old drunk money?"

  Millie propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at her husband. "Old drunk? What do you mean?" The sweet old man from earlier couldn't possibly have been a drunk. She'd have known, wouldn't she?

  "Have you not met old Pappy Cromwell yet? He's been trying to drink himself into an early grave since his wife left him fifteen years ago. Mostly he just sits around town and looks sad, but occasionally, he'll talk someone from the train into giving him money with some sob story about how he needs to follow his wife back East." He shook his head. "I wonder who it was this time."

  Millie didn't answer, her heart sinking. She'd meant well with Pappy. She really had. Sometimes, though, it seemed like every time she meant well, she messed things up. Today was just one of those days she guessed. She'd find a way to make him love her tomorrow. She knew there was something she could do that would make him realize she was the perfect wife for him.

  Connor held her close, so thankful that she'd been the one to travel west to be his bride. There wasn't a woman who could be better for him on this whole planet. He wasn't happy that she'd lied to start with, but he could see that they would be happy for the rest of their lives. Someday soon, he was going to build her a house on the edge of town, and they'd live in it happily.

  He hadn't been able to propose marriage in a special way, but he would find a good way to tell her he loved her. Someday soon, he'd take her on a picnic up into the mountains and tell her. She was sweet and special, and she deserved it. For a substitute wife, she was something really special.

  Millie fell asleep wondering how she'd convince him that she was worthy. There had to be something special she could do to make the whole town see that she wasn't just a substitute wife. She was the real thing.

  She kissed his bare shoulder as she snuggled against him, happy to have him beside her. She couldn't let him send her back to Massachusetts. There had to be a way she could prove to him that she was worthy of staying.

  Millie was working on preparing the food for the restaurant to open the following morning when the owner of the mercantile, the pastor, and a couple of the other men from town came into the kitchen. She wiped her hands on her apron and hurried over to where they were. "May I help you gentlemen?" she asked, her voice more than a little nervous.

  The pastor shook his head slightly, looking at Connor. "It's you we need to speak with if we may, Connor."

  Connor looked down at his hands, covered in dough. "Let me just wash my hands. I'll be out in a moment." He washed his hands and left the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him.

  Millie knew it was rude, but she went over to listen at the door. She needed to know what the men wanted to talk to Connor about. She was his wife, and they shouldn't have any secrets from one another anyway. She stood with her ear to the door and listened.

  She could hear the pastor's voice loud and clear. "You've got to do something about your wife, Connor."

  Millie was startled. She'd thought maybe they'd come to tell Connor about the good she'd been doing around town, but apparently that wasn't the case. She frowned as she listened.

  The mercantile owner complained about her rearranging his shelf. "I don't know what came over her. Everything was arranged perfectly, and the next thing I knew, she'd moved all the jars of canned goods to the bottom shelf, and before I had time to put everything back where it goes, little Timmy Jacobs had broken six jars of vegetables on the floor. We're lucky the poor tyke didn't seriously injure himself."

  Millie bristled. She'd only been helping. It was Timmy's mother's fault for not watching him. Why didn't they see that?

  "I'm sure she was just trying to help," Connor said in her defense, and Millie smiled, glad that someone was on her side.

  "Do you think she was trying to help when she showed the Larson boys how to use a slingshot properly? They shot out two of the stained glass windows on the church," the pastor complained.

  Millie frowned. The boys had been holding the slingshots upside down. Was she supposed to just walk away and let the other children laugh at them?

  "She gave old Pappy money yesterday, and he shot out one of my windows," someone else protested.

  "Did you know she tried to get Mary Sanders to marry John Bennett? Those two have hated each other since they were knee high to a grasshopper. What is the woman thinking?" She didn't recognize the voice that said that.

  Slowly she left the door and went back to work, preparing the food for the day. Did the whole town see her as some sort of idiot who could do nothing right? She couldn't stay somewhere where she wasn't appreciated, but where would she go? She certainly couldn't go back to Beckham, because she would be laughed at.

  Finally, she hit on the idea. She'd heard the mountains near Gullet Gulch were riddled with caves. She'd go live in a cave somewhere. First she'd have to learn to shoot, though, but she had money. She could pay one of the local teenage boys to teach her to shoot. How hard could it be?

  When Connor came back into the kitchen, he looked angry, but he said nothing to her about the conversation with the men in the dining room. She knew he was angry with her though. How could he not be? She was angry with herself when she heard all the things she'd done wrong listed at one time.

  They worked together in silence, with him unable to meet her eyes. That's how she knew he was angry with her. He'd never avoided her eyes before, not even when he'd found out she couldn't cook. She would have to put her plan in action.

  That afternoon while Connor was doing the books for the hotel, she caught one of the teens on their way home from school. "Do you know how to shoot?" she asked. She knew he'd know how, because all boys could shoot, couldn't they?

  The boy nodded. "I hunt all the time. Why?"

  "Well, I want to learn to shoot. Do you think you could teach me? I would pay you." She'd never imagined that she would ask a boy to teach her to shoot, but her plan wouldn't work if she had no way to defend herself.

  He studied her for a minute. "Girls can't shoot. It would have to be a lot."

  Millie thought about what a fourteen-year-old boy would consider a lot. "How about fifty cents?"

  His eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly. "You got a gun?"

  "No, and I don't want my husband to know about this, so would you buy one for me? I'll give you the money." She was certain with the way the mercantile owner felt about her, he'd never sell her a rifle anyway. She took ten dollars from her purse and handed it to hi
m. "Is this enough?"

  His eyes gaped, and he nodded. "I'll go get it now. Going to get you some ammunition too."

  "Wait, before you run off, you need to at least tell me your name." She didn't dare let him leave with her money without knowing his name. What if he never came back? She'd be out ten dollars.

  "It's Louis. Louis Stockton."

  She nodded, watching as he ran off toward the mercantile. He met her in the park ten minutes later with a gun and a small bag that he said was full of shells. "Let's go to the woods. I don't think it's a good idea for you to teach me out in the open like this." Truly, with the luck she'd been having, she was certain that if she learned to shoot in town, she'd simply shoot a passerby.

  He walked toward the woods just outside of town. "I got you a shotgun, because it's easier to aim. You have so many pellets shooting out, it's hard to miss your target."

  She nodded. "That sounds smart." She didn't want to miss her target, whether it was a bear or a deer. She needed to be able to shoot well.

  When they got to the woods, Louis showed her how to load the shotgun, explaining what each part of the gun was called, and then showed her how to aim and shoot. She hated holding the gun, but knew if she was going to make it for any length of time up on the mountain, she'd need to be able to shoot.

  They practiced for several hours until she realized it was getting dark. "I need to get home. Do you think I'm ready to go out on my own?" She watched him carefully, hoping that he'd say yes, but she was prepared to ignore him if he said no.

  He made a face. "I dunno, lady. You probably need a few more lessons."

  "Could I protect myself if I needed to?" she asked. That was the bottom line for her. If a bear was coming at her, could she shoot it and not die?

  He nodded reluctantly. "I guess so."

  She took fifty cents from her purse and handed it to him. "Thank you for the lesson." She quickly walked back to the hotel after hiding her shotgun in the woods where it wouldn't be found.

 

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