Millie (Pendleton Petticoats Book 7) Page 6

  Aundy laughed as she worked her daughter’s fingers free and took her from Gideon. “Well, Mr. McBride, you’ve done the impossible today. Emma usually doesn’t take to strangers.”

  “There’s no accounting for a baby’s taste,” Millie muttered under her breath, making Bertie choke and Lacy bite her cheek to keep from laughing aloud.

  Ilsa shot her a strange look then beamed at Gideon. “We’re just about to head over to Caterina’s restaurant for lunch. Would you care to join us, Mr. McBride?”

  “The offer is much appreciated, Mrs. Campanelli, but I really must be on my way.” Gideon pretended to tweak the baby’s cute little nose then tipped his head to the women in the shop. “Enjoy the rest of Market Day.”

  “Thank you for escorting us, Mr. McBride. It was very kind of you,” Lacy said, walking with Ilsa as they accompanied him to the door.

  “My pleasure. It’s not every day I have the opportunity to be seen with three of the loveliest ladies in town.” Gideon settled his hat on his head, touched the brim with his fingers then strolled down the street.

  Ilsa turned from the door and snatched up a fashion magazine from a nearby table, fanning it in front of her face. “My gracious! That is one handsome man.”

  “I agree,” Bertie said, waggling an eyebrow at Millie.

  “And so polite, too. Even Grant’s mother would approve of how gentlemanly he behaved,” Lacy said, casting Millie a teasing smile.

  “Girls, I’m telling you anyone Emmalee takes to like that can’t be all bad. Even if he is a saloon owner, he seems like a very nice one.” Aundy rocked her sleepy baby in her arms.

  “I like him,” Laila declared, jumping off one foot to the other, trying to stomp the streams of sunlight coming through the front windows.

  “Well, there you go, then, Millie. With Laila and Emma’s endorsements, how could you not show an interest in Mr. McBride?” Ilsa locked the front door and motioned for Laila to run into the workroom.

  Exasperated with her friends, Millie released a long-suffering sigh. “Regardless of his dimpled smile, charming ways, and apparent kindness to children, I’m not the least bit interested in that man. Not at all.”

  The four other women in the store gave each other knowing looks.

  “Whatever you say.” Bertie looped her arm around Millie’s, tugging her into the back room. Millie held Emmalee while Aundy slipped on her coat. Ilsa hurried to put on Laila’s coat and mittens before pulling on her own.

  “Will you still be able to join us for lunch today?” Aundy asked as they stepped outside and wandered toward Caterina’s back door.

  “Yes. I appreciate the invitation. I know Caterina isn’t open for lunch as a rule, so it’s nice she offered to prepare a meal for us today,” Millie said, wanting to change the subject. “Have you heard the saddle shop is running a contest to give away a saddle or merchandise up to thirty-five dollars in value?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Aundy said, grinning at her. “They make the best saddles.”

  Later, as they sat around tables pushed together in Caterina’s restaurant and enjoyed bowls of steaming soup and hot bread drizzled with olive oil and spices, the conversation came back around to Gideon McBride.

  “Garrett?” Aundy smiled at her husband as he helped himself to another slice of crusty bread.

  “What do you need, honey?” he asked. Adoration shone in his eyes as she rocked Emmalee on one arm and ate with her other hand. “Do you want me to hold Em for a while?”

  “No, but I was wondering what you know about Gideon McBride?” Aundy ignored the scowl Millie tossed at her from her seat across the table.

  If left up to her friends, Millie concluded they’d have her married to the handsome scoundrel before the week was through.

  Aundy gave her a saucy smile then turned back to Garrett. “Has he always lived here in Pendleton?”

  “I believe so.” Garrett leaned back in his chair and looked down the table at Deputy Kade Rawlings. The two of them had been best friends since Kade moved to town to live with his uncle when he was a young boy. “Do you remember him from school, Kade?”

  “Vaguely,” the deputy replied, grabbing Rachel’s bowl before she upended it on Caterina’s cat, Rufus. “Wasn’t he five or so years younger than us?”

  Garrett nodded. “That sounds about right. Always seemed like a nice kid, never got into a lot of trouble. But then his father would have beaten him into next week if he had.”

  “His father? Do his parents live in town?” Surprised the thoughts in her head tumbled out her lips, Millie fought the urge to squirm when everyone turned to look at her.

  Thankfully, Garrett didn’t take long to respond. “Not now. Well, they did until they died. Ma would know more about them than me, being as how I didn’t pay much attention to things like that when I was a rambunctious youth.” Garrett jabbed his thumb in the direction of the kitchen where Marnie and Lars’ children ate with Laila and Caterina’s twin boys. Giggles and laughter poured out of the room with the intermittent order from Sadie that kept the younger children in line.

  “And you think you’ve outgrown that?” Tony Campanelli teased, helping himself to another serving of soup.

  Garrett scowled at his brother-in-law and continued. “From what I recall, Gideon’s mother always seemed rather quiet and withdrawn. We’d see her at church on Sundays and that’s about it. His father ran a few saloons with a bro…” Garrett shot Marnie a quick glance before changing his word choice, mindful that his sister-in-law had once been one of the most popular harlots in town. “With a special type of companionship enterprise in the upstairs rooms. From what I recall, Judas Seymour wasn’t particularly liked by anyone. He was a mean son of a gun. More than once, I remember seeing him knock Gideon around. That’s probably why Mrs. Seymour was always so quiet. Anyway, after he died, Gideon took over his businesses. He sold all but the one saloon and changed the name of it from…” Garrett looked to Kade.

  “I think it used to be called the Rusty Bucket or some other equally unappealing name,” Kade said, swallowing the bite of bread in his mouth.

  “That’s right,” Garrett said, turning his silvery gaze back to Millie. “Anyway, Gideon’s mother passed away not too long after Judas died. From what I heard, Gideon discovered ol’ Judas wasn’t really his father. He took his birth father’s last name of McBride, changed the name of the saloon, and cleaned out the upper rooms, sending the women on their way to other establishments. Now, he rents the rooms out to men looking for a clean, inexpensive place to stay for a while, like a boardinghouse.”

  “He’s certainly a good cook, if the sample I had was any indication,” Grant said, grinning at Millie. “Why, if my wife wasn’t already besotted with me, Gideon might just turn her head.”

  Lacy blushed then smacked her husband’s arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d never find someone willing to put up with your mother and I’d be hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t run for the hills when my family comes to call.”

  “True,” Grant said, kissing his wife’s cheek and giving her a teasing wink. “Gideon McBride is an astute businessman and well-liked around town. I’ve never heard anyone say a disparaging word about him, other than the fact he runs a saloon. He appears to be a good man and a gentleman. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have entrusted you ladies into his care earlier while Riley made the winning bid on that questionable piece of horseflesh tied up outside.” Grant turned to Riley with mirth in his eyes. “Did you buy it to make Steve jealous or do you want to give your horse Mud a run for his money with this new beast?”

  Millie blocked out the animated conversation around her as Riley defended his choice of horses. Her thoughts spun around what her friends shared regarding Gideon McBride. Suddenly, she wanted to know more about him, more about what made him the man he was.

  Despite the abuse of his stepfather, he’d learned fine manners. It spoke of his character that he’d closed the brothel part of the businesses he inherited. If only
he wasn’t tied to one of the most successful saloons in town, Millie might have considered, for the briefest moment, the thought of giving the man a second look.

  Memories of her own miserable childhood flooded through her thoughts and dimmed her joy in the day. Quiet and introspective, Millie helped with the dishes, cuddled both Rachel and Emmalee one more time, and then took her leave. The excuse of returning to the telephone office to check on the girls gave her a convenient reason to escape.

  In truth, the hired girls minding the switchboard were capable of handling all the calls. She just needed time to mull over the fact that there might be more to Gideon McBride than first met her eye.

  And what met her eye was a pair of broad shoulders, firm chest, muscular form, dimpled smile, and eyes positively made to entrance foolish women.

  Aware the direction of her thoughts would only lead to heartache, Millie hurried back to her lonely apartment, determined to keep from entertaining any further notions about the good-looking saloon owner.

  Chapter Seven

  Gideon strolled down the street, wondering what had come over him. After spending the morning escorting Mrs. Hill, Mrs. Walsh, and Millie Matlock around to various stores, then holding the sweet little Nash baby, his heart felt like a mess of overheated syrup.

  Resigned to never having a wife or family of his own, Gideon attributed his current curiosity about those very subjects to the presence of Millie and her friends. The woman had shoved his entire world off kilter and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  It was bad enough she and her temperance committee disturbed his customers and those of the other saloons in town. But now she’d disturbed him.

  Greatly disturbed him.

  Visions of her rosy lips and winter sky eyes rimmed with dark lashes trickled through his head. A deep breath conjured up her spring-flower scent. The palms of his hands itched just thinking about how much he wanted to feel the smooth, creamy curve of her cheek.

  Despite the frigid air blowing around him, his temperature climbed, recalling the way Millie looked in the fashionable pale gray suit she’d worn with a matching gray hat, adorned with a large pink plume. Most times when he’d seen her, she’d been dressed in a simple dark skirt and pale shirtwaist. Today, though, the gray woolen suit she’d worn over a pink shirtwaist not only suited her coloring, but nearly made his eyes bug out of his head when she’d unbuttoned the jacket in one particularly warm store. The current fashion for women demanded a silhouette shaped like an “S,” and there was no denying the fact Millie possessed a well-endowed figure with plenty of curves.

  Curves that made him wish he could take her in his arms and find out if she was as soft and luscious to hold as he imagined.

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Gideon stopped when a handful of saloon owners beckoned to him to talk for a moment. Inwardly he groaned at the sight of Kyle Steel’s flashy purple shirt beneath his black coat.

  “Didn’t I see you followin’ around Millie Matlock earlier?” Kyle asked, thumping him on the back. The man took a step closer to Gideon, looking up at his face. “Just checkin’ to see if she’d put a ring through your nose yet.”

  The men around them laughed, but most appeared aware of the warning glint in Gideon’s eyes.

  However, Kyle seemed oblivious to his irritation and continued with his unwanted observations. “She’s sure keepin’ company with some pretty little fillies these days. Don’t suppose any of them are lookin’ for a job? I could sure use some high-dollar chippies at my place.”

  Gideon clenched his fists, struggling against the urge to pop Kyle in his crooked nose. “Show some respect, Steel. Mrs. Hill and Mrs. Walsh, just like Millie, are respectable women and there’s no call for you to speak out of turn about any of them.”

  “Calm down. I’m only kiddin’ with you,” Kyle said, cautiously backing away. He might run his mouth both directions, but he sure didn’t need to pick a fight with Gideon. The man stood a head taller and outweighed him by a good fifty pounds, all of it muscle.

  Archie Cook placed a hand on Gideon’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You know how these boys get on Market Day, Gideon. Say, I had a question for you. Let’s talk as we walk back to your saloon.”

  Angry and not in the mood to be coddled by Archie Cook, Gideon pulled away from the man’s grasp but kept step with him as they ambled down the sidewalk toward their businesses.

  “How are things progressing with Miss Matlock? I took it as a good sign that she allowed you to accompany her and her friends today.” Archie shot him a hopeful look as they crossed a street and made their way through a crowd watching the band. Gideon motioned for Archie to follow him down an alley and across an empty lot to the back of his saloon.

  It wouldn’t do for his fellow businessman and leader of the saloon owners association to know that Gideon had enjoyed every minute in Millie’s company. Not at all.

  “It’s a hardship I’ll endure for the good of our group,” he said, taking a key ring from his pocket and unlocking the back door.

  Archie laughed and slapped him on the back. “I’m sure it’s a real hardship spending hours in the company of such fine ladies. We all appreciate your efforts, Gideon.” He took a step toward the alley. “And don’t let Steel get to you. That man hasn’t got a lick of sense in his bony little head.”

  Gideon chuckled and waved a dismissive hand at Archie. “I know it. Have a good afternoon, Archie.”

  “I plan on it. Market Day is always good for my account book.” The man disappeared down the alley as Gideon stepped inside.

  Abel stood behind the bar, serving the few customers who’d arrived. On Market Day and other days when large groups gathered in town, Gideon opened his saloon a few hours early.

  Since he didn’t have a brothel and ran a clean, well-tended property, his customers tended to be men with plenty of money in their pockets, looking for a place to escape the cares of the world for an hour or two.

  Quickly shedding his coat and hat in his private quarters, Gideon stoked the stove in his sitting room then made his way to the kitchen.

  Abel heard him and stepped into the room. “How’d things go this morning? Did I see you with Miss Matlock and the banker’s wife and pretty Mrs. Walsh?”

  “You did,” Gideon said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  “Well?” Abel asked, waiting for Gideon to elaborate.

  “Well, what?”

  “Has she gone from loathing you to only disliking you?” Abel asked, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a cookie from the jar Gideon kept on the counter.

  “How should I know?” Gideon shrugged. “It’s not like she’d admit it even if she’d fallen in love with me.”

  “You better try harder. The men are counting on you to get her to do that precise thing.” Abel dunked the cookie in his coffee and took a bite of the spice-laden treat.

  “Don’t you have work to do?”

  Abel grinned. “Sure, boss, but it’s more fun to torment you. Say, did Mrs. Walsh tell any funny stories about their crazy mule?”

  Gideon smirked. “As a matter of fact, I heard her tell Mrs. Hill she’d found the mule in the outhouse the other day.”

  “The outhouse?”

  “Mrs. Walsh’s brother, Bobby, installed a bathroom for them last fall. Since then, they haven’t used the outhouse. It seems the other day when Mrs. Walsh went outside, there was the mule, sitting in it.”

  “Boy, I wish I could have seen it,” Abel mused, finishing his cookie before he returned to his bartending duties.

  “Me, too.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sugar-laden steam wafted up from the pot of syrup Gideon kept watch over on his big cook stove.

  With great care, his spoon dipped into the pot and he lifted it from the sticky mass of melted sugar, holding it up to catch the light.

  A thick drop of syrup slid downward. Wispy, gossamer threads dangled from the spoon.

  It was almost ready.

  “What
are you making now?” Abel asked as he strode into the kitchen and stepped close to the stove, looking into the pot of bubbling sweetness.

  “Fudge,” Gideon said, testing the mixture by spooning a drop into a cup of cold water. The syrup formed a soft ball. Quickly picking up a pre-measured dish of vanilla, he stirred it into the mixture then poured it into a buttered pan.

  “You’ve been making candy for two days.” Abel hadn’t minded the candy production. Gideon let him sample everything and offer opinions on his favorites. His employer had made caramels, pralines, peppermint wafers, coconut balls, and a berry-flavored meringue drop that literally melted in his mouth.

  “I know. This is the last of it,” Gideon said, handing the empty pot and spoon to Abel.

  Abel took it with a grin, scraping the remnants of the candy from inside the pot and licking it from the spoon. “You sure she’s worth all this work?”

  “Based on my knowledge that Miss Matlock has a bit of a sweet tooth and does not know how to cook, combined with the fact today is Valentine’s Day, candy seemed like a perfect choice to woo my way into her good graces.” Gideon carefully pressed little heart-shaped pieces of candy he’d made from melting sugar and mixing it with red coloring into the fudge.

  “Are you sure it’s a good idea to take her something today?” Abel asked, offering him a questioning look as he scraped the last bit of chocolate from the pot then set it in the sink. “Women set a whole different store of expectations in days supposed to be full of romance than men.”

  Gideon continued decorating the fudge with candy pieces. “Why do you think I went to all this work? If I’m going to convince Miss Matlock I’m serious in my pursuit, today would be the day to make some sort of memorable gesture.” He looked up and grinned at Abel. “Did you do something nice for your wife?”

  “Darn tootin’ I did. I bought her one of those fancy hair combs with a heart etched on it. And I got the girls new hair ribbons and candy sticks. All three of my little ladies were in good spirits when I left the house.”