Millie (Pendleton Petticoats Book 7) Read online

  “Did you need something, Mr. McBride?” she asked.

  “I just wanted to make sure Miss Matlock is well. I’ve yet to see her miss an evening of temperance work.” Gideon hoped that sounded impersonal. He didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about his preoccupation with Millie’s whereabouts.

  “Actually, Millie’s been sick the last few days. Doc Reed forbade her from coming to work. She spent the day in bed. I checked on her a little bit ago. She was sleeping.”

  Disturbed by the news, Gideon wondered if she’d caught a chill the night of the fire. After all, the woman had traipsed around in the freezing temperatures dressed in a thin nightdress and her coat. “Is there anything I can do?”

  A smile wreathed Lacy’s face, making her cheekbones even more prominent. “I think she’d enjoy seeing you. Perhaps you’d drop by to visit her tomorrow?”

  “It’s probably best I not disturb her, Mrs. Hill. I could, possibly, send a note to her, though, wishing her a speedy recovery.”

  Lacy shook her head and gave him a knowing look. “Tell her in person, Mr. McBride. I’m certain a visit from you is just the thing to help her feel better.” She glanced up as the women started singing across the street. “I better go, but I do hope you’ll stop by tomorrow. Good evening.”

  “Good evening, Mrs. Hill, and thank you.”

  Gideon watched her cross the street then returned inside the saloon.

  “Where’s Miss Matlock?” Abel asked as Gideon carried his coffee cup and magazine back into the kitchen.

  “According to Mrs. Hill, she’s been unwell.” Gideon removed his suit coat and rolled up his sleeves before tying on a waist apron.

  “What are you doing?” Abel asked, watching as Gideon took a large mixing bowl down from a shelf and dropped in a measure of butter and a cup of sugar, creaming the two ingredients together.

  “Baking something that might make her feel better.”

  Late the following morning, Gideon packed a box full of food, dressed in his favorite suit, and made his way to the telephone office.

  Three sets of eyes gave him a speculative glance when he set the box on the counter and politely removed his hat, leaving it next to the box.

  “Good morning, Mr. McBride.” Lacy Hill greeted him with a cheerful smile as she removed her headset and approached the counter. “What can we do for you?”

  “I brought a few things Miss Matlock might enjoy,” he said, sliding the box toward Lacy.

  She grinned and pointed toward the stairs at the back of the office. “That’s very kind of you. Go ahead and take them on up to her.”

  Gideon stepped back from the counter. “I think it best if I go. Will you please give that to her?”

  Lacy started to lift the box, grunted under the weight, and plunked it back down on the counter. “That’s heavier than I thought. Would you mind carrying it upstairs?”

  Suspicious of the woman’s inability to lift the box, he held his tongue. Gideon hefted the box and followed Lacy as she rushed up the stairs to Millie’s apartment. At the top, she tapped once on the door and opened it.

  “Millie? You have company,” Lacy said, stepping aside so Gideon could carry the box to the kitchen. He set it on the table and turned to see Lacy in the doorway. “I’ll leave her apartment door open, but don’t worry about rushing off. We trust you, Mr. McBride.”

  With that, the woman breezed back downstairs, leaving him alone in Millie’s apartment.

  Gideon removed an enameled coffeepot he’d wrapped with a thick towel to keep hot and took down a cup from Millie’s cupboard. He filled it with the honey-laced tea he’d made then left the pot on the stove to stay warm. He lifted a soup pot from the box and set it on the stove, and placed a loaf of bread in the warming oven.

  Fortified with a deep breath, he picked up the cup of tea, stepped into the hall and walked past an open bathroom door to a sunny bedroom.

  Millie rested in the middle of a bed against a pile of lace-edged pillows, decorated with embroidered pink roses and pale green vines. For the first time since he’d noticed the woman years ago, she looked small and vulnerable instead of a formidable force.

  The lacy, scooped neckline of her nightdress drew his eyes to her full bosom where a pink satin bow bobbed up and down with each breath she drew in then released.

  Promptly averting his gaze, he took in her black hair standing out in contrast to the crisp white sheets surrounding her.

  Although he’d seen her hair down the night of the fire, it had been contained in a braid. Now, it flowed free. She looked like a gorgeous temptress with wild curls and waves frothing around her. His hands trembled with the desire to glide through those glossy tresses so he placed the cup of tea on a small table by the bed.

  Unable to leave, but knowing he shouldn’t stay, Gideon reached out and tenderly brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead, lightly trailing his index finger along her heart-shaped face.

  Slowly, Millie’s eyes opened. Her long, dark lashes fluttered against her creamy cheeks until her blue eyes locked on his.

  “Gideon?” she croaked in a harsh whisper, pushing herself upright against the pillows. A cough wracked through her and she grabbed a handkerchief, holding it against her mouth.

  He moved the pillows until she could comfortably recline against them and smiled at her. “I heard you’ve been sick and brought you a few things.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered, coughing again.

  He handed her the cup of tea and she took a sip, her eyes probing his over the rim of the cup. “How’s that taste?” he asked

  She nodded her head and took another sip.

  “I told you wandering around in the middle of the night was bad for your health,” Gideon teased, uncertain what he should do.

  Millie pointed to a chair across the room, so Gideon carried it near the bed. She motioned for him to move closer, and he did, sitting close enough he could touch her hand, if he dared.

  However, the more he tried to focus his gaze on her face, the more that darn pink bow kept bobbing at the edge of his vision.

  Up and down. Up and down.

  Unable to ignore it any longer, he allowed himself the indulgence of watching it just long enough Millie glanced down and yanked the sheet up to her chin.

  Gideon bit back a grin. His mother’s high-necked long-sleeved nightgowns looked nothing like the beautiful lace-trimmed bit of filmy cotton Millie wore. For a moment, he wondered what an unmarried woman such as Millie was doing wearing such pretty nightwear. Thoughts of what she wore to bed led to more questions about what she wore beneath her prim and proper dresses and shirtwaists.

  Heat curled through him and he ran a hand over the back of his neck. “How long have you been sick?” he asked, settling his attention on her face again.

  “Since Saturday,” she rasped.

  “I would have come sooner if I’d known.” And he realized he would have. Even if Lacy hadn’t encouraged him to pay her a visit, he would have found some excuse to call on her before long anyway. He’d missed seeing her, far more than he wanted to admit.

  She nodded but her eyes began to water and she sneezed multiple times into her handkerchief. Barely had she drawn a breath when a fit of coughing assailed her. Once she finished, she held a hand against the ache in her chest and brushed at her red nose.

  “You should go,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to get whatever this is.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Millie. I hardly ever get sick.” Gideon handed her the cup of tea and she took a few more swallows before resting against the pillows again.

  “Tell me some news.” She scooted down and tugged the sheet up to her chin. Gideon pulled up a pink and white quilt, tucking it around her. She gave him a grateful smile.

  “Some news, huh?”

  At her nod, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I got a new horse this week.”

  Interested, she quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “
He’s a thoroughbred stallion. His name is Carbonado. It means black diamonds. How’s that for a fancy name?”

  She grinned and gave him a questioning look.

  “What am I going to do with a racehorse?”

  Another nod.

  “Well, if I have time to work with him, I might enter him in a race or two. Otherwise, I’m hoping he’ll sire a bunch of future racehorses for other folks. When you decide to quit lounging around in bed all day, maybe you’d like to come out to my ranch and see him.”

  “Your ranch?” Millie whispered.

  “Did I tell you I have a ranch?”

  A slight shake of her head affirmed they had not discussed his ranch.

  “I bought it about eight years ago and I have a wonderful foreman, Ezra, who keeps everything running smoothly since I spend so much time here in town. I own about seventy-five head of Simmental beef cows and I raise a few horses, too. Ezra keeps on three hands to help with things. Darren, Rod, and David are all good men.”

  “I’d like to see it,” Millie whispered then coughed again.

  Gideon slid a hand behind her shoulders and lifted her up then handed her the cup of tea. She drained the cup and he set it aside, letting her recline against the pillows.

  “Do you want more tea?” He started to rise, but she shook her head.

  “Not right now.”

  He sank back onto the chair. Uncertain what to say, he told her about checking on the Wendell family, the new cake recipe he planned to try, and something humorous Abel had said the previous evening.

  She fought to keep her eyes open but lost the battle. A smile settled on his lips as he adjusted her covers and smoothed the hair from her face as she slept.

  Aware he should leave, he remained in the chair by her bed. As he watched her sleep, he knew it might be his only chance to do so. He didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

  A floorboard creaked and he glanced up to see Lacy in the doorway. She grinned at him. He rose and followed her to the kitchen where he stirred the soup he’d left simmering on the stove.

  “That smells so good, Mr. McBride. The girls have been pestering me to come up here and see what you were making.” Lacy inhaled the blend of herbs in the steam rising from the pot of chicken soup.

  “I made plenty. You ladies are welcome to a bowl, if you’d like.”

  Lacy shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to deprive Millie of any.”

  Gideon smiled and took down three bowls from a shelf. “I can make more. You hello girls need to keep your strength up.” After filling the bowls with soup and setting them on plates, he took a loaf of bread from the warming oven and sliced it, setting a piece of cinnamon and honey-laced bread on each plate. “Shall I help carry these downstairs?”

  “Yes, please.” Lacy carried a plate in one hand and lifted her skirts with the other as they descended the stairs. Susan and Fae sniffed appreciatively as Gideon set the plates beside them at the switchboard.

  Both of the young women mouthed “thank you” before Lacy looked at Gideon. “You may visit Millie any time you like if you come bearing gifts like this.” She pointed her spoon at the bowl of delicious soup.

  Gideon smiled. “Glad you like it. I suppose I should be on my way.”

  “Millie will be miffed if you leave before she wakes up. Unless you have somewhere you need to be, you might as well stay awhile.” Lacy gave him a sassy grin. “You might even want to try a bowl of this soup. Although I’ve heard the cook is of questionable character, I’ve not tasted any finer.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks, I think.”

  After returning upstairs, he looked around Millie’s apartment, taking in the cozy sitting area with a small sofa and matching chair, upholstered in pale yellow velvet with an assortment of floral-printed throw pillows. Piecrust tables looked at odds with the heavy mission-style rocker that sat beneath a window next to a small bookcase filled with books and bric-a-brac.

  One photograph on the fireplace mantel showed an adorable girl with lively eyes and thick black braids standing between a handsome man and a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Millie. The photo had to be of Millie with her parents. He lifted the image, studying the happiness on all their faces, wondering why Millie had never mentioned her parents.

  Turning away from the fireplace, he noticed the assortment of intricately embroidered doilies around the room and the scarf along the fireplace mantel. He wondered if Millie was the one who did the beautiful stitching.

  As restless as she so often seemed, he doubted she could sit still long enough to complete such detailed work.

  In the hallway, a few more samplers, similar to the one in the kitchen, decorated the walls.

  He stuck his head in Millie’s room and noticed her stirring. He took her teacup to the kitchen and refilled it, dished a bowl of soup, then sliced off a piece of bread.

  After discovering a tray leaning against the end of the counter, he set everything on it and carried it to Millie’s room.

  Her eyes opened as he walked in and he nearly stumbled at the look in the wintery-sky orbs. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Millie was entirely pleased to see him.

  “Are you ready for lunch?” he asked, waiting as she scooted back against the pillows before setting the tray across her lap.

  She studied the bowl of steaming soup and the piece of toasted bread. “Thank you,” she whispered, then quietly bowed her head, offering a silent word of thanks over the meal.

  Gideon held his breath until she took her first bite of the soup and gave him a grateful smile. She pointed her spoon at him. “You eat, too.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He hurried to dish himself a small bowl of the soup then returned to sit with her as she ate. Although he’d spent the evening baking, he’d risen early to make the soup and bread. He recalled his mother making the lightly sweetened loaf anytime he’d been sick as a boy.

  Millie pointed to the bread in her hand as he regained his seat near the bed. “So good,” she whispered.

  “Thanks. It’s my mother’s recipe. The bread has a little cinnamon and honey in it. She always said it would help me get well faster.” Gideon watched as Millie ate all her bread and every bite of her soup.

  He returned the tray to the kitchen, refilled her cup of tea, and carried it, along with a tin back to her room.

  “I made you a little something sweet,” he said, gratified by the way she eagerly opened the tin and stared at the tea cakes nestled inside.

  “Oh, Gideon. They’re lovely,” she rasped. “Too pretty to eat.”

  “Nonsense. It’s just white cake.” He lifted one of the dainty teacakes from the tin and set it in her hand. No more than a bite or two, each tiny cake had been glazed with a sweet frosting and decorated with a pink rosebud on top. “Go on.”

  She closed her eyes as she ate the cake and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Delicious.”

  A twinkle in her eyes let him know how much she enjoyed the treat, even as she settled back against the pillows and sipped hot tea.

  Not much later, she started fidgeting in the bed. Gideon gave her a concerned look she chose to ignore. A few more minutes passed before she sighed and motioned for him to turn his back to her.

  “After all that tea you poured down me, I have to get up,” she croaked, flipping back the covers and rising to her feet.

  “Need any help?” he asked, giving her a cocky smile over his shoulder.

  “No!” she barked, shuffling out of the room to her bathroom. Gideon straightened her covers and fluffed her pillows while she was gone. The simple actions dredged up the pain of nursing his mother in her final days, so he cast the memories aside and returned his thoughts to the intriguing woman he could hear coughing her way down the hall.

  He glanced up as Millie grasped the edge of the doorframe. As violently as she coughed, he worried she might rupture something. Rushing to her side, he waited until the coughing subsided to pick her up and tuck her back in bed.


  She sniffled and her eyes watered as her head settled against the pillows.

  Uncertain if she cried or the moisture was from her illness, Gideon brushed away the drops with his thumbs.

  She grasped his hand with hers and squeezed it. “Thank you, Gideon. You’re a good friend,” she wheezed.

  “And you’re in need of more rest. I hope you feel better soon, Millie. If you don’t object, I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

  Her eyes drifted shut as she nodded her head.

  Gideon watched her long eyelashes fan her creamy cheeks, convinced Millie had to be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

  With her teacup in hand, he returned to the kitchen and washed the dishes. He stowed the leftover soup in a bowl and set it in the icebox, and wrapped the remaining bread in a clean dishtowel. After a final look around to make sure the kitchen was set to rights, he lifted the box and carried it back downstairs.

  “Thank you, Mr. McBride. That soup was better than my mother makes,” Susan said, smiling at him as he dug in the box for a tin and set it on the counter.

  “What’s that?” Lacy asked, after she finished connecting a call. She removed her headset and hurried to the counter.

  “It’s for you hello girls. I left a tin upstairs for Millie.”

  Lacy popped the lid off the tin and held it up so the other girls could see the teacakes inside. “You better watch out, Mr. McBride, or word will get out you’re not only a gentleman, but one who can cook. The women will line up outside your door and it won’t have a thing to do with the temperance committee.”

  Gideon laughed and lifted the box again then picked up his hat. “I seriously doubt that. There’s soup in the icebox and more bread if Millie would like it later.”

  “I’ll be sure to warm some for her before I go home.” Lacy walked him to the door and pulled it open. “Perhaps it’s best I not tell Grant how good it all tastes, or Millie might have to make do with a sandwich.”

  “If no one objects, I’ll stop by to see how she’s faring tomorrow.” Gideon stepped outside and settled his hat on his head.

  “You’ll get no objections from us,” Lacy said, waving as Gideon tipped his head and sauntered down the street.