Gideon sipped his coffee. “And here I thought I’d have to spell the whole thing out for you.”
“I’m not nearly as stupid as I look or my wife thinks.” Abel helped himself to another cookie. Thoughtful, he glanced over to the newly installed phone on the wall. “Why the telephone? I thought you said they’d have to scrape icicles off the gates to Purgatory before you’d have one of those things in here.”
“Would I say that?” Gideon asked, feigning innocence.
“I believe your original choice of words was more colorful, but that was the gist of things.”
Gideon stood and retrieved the coffeepot from the stove, refilling their cups before regaining his seat at the table. “Miss Matlock would rather be tarred and feathered than set foot in here. I don’t run in the same social circles as that woman, and she’s been avoiding coming here on Tuesday evenings for some reason. The one guaranteed way I can spend time with her is because of that blasted nuisance on my wall.”
“I still don’t understand how the telephone is going to help your cause. It’s not like she installed it.”
A conniving grin filled Gideon’s face. “But she will march over here and set me straight when I fail to use it properly.”
“But, boss, it’s as easy as anything to turn the crank and…” Abel smiled, realizing what Gideon intended. “I see.”
Gideon held out his coffee cup in a toast. “To many more years of successful business.”
“Many more years.” With a broad grin, Abel clanked his cup against Gideon’s.
“Hello. Pendleton Central. Number please.” Millie waited to connect the call, but the caller remained silent. “Hello? May I help you?”
Finally, someone spoke. “Hello? Anyone there? Hello?”
The deep male voice made tingles shoot from Millie’s head down to her toes. Of course, a voice that smooth and resonate had to belong to the owner of the Second Chance Saloon.
“Mr. McBride? What number would you like to reach? I will connect you if you state the number or name.”
“Hello? How’s this dad-blasted thing work? Hello? Hello!”
Millie cringed when the call disconnected with a loud click.
Only a few minutes passed before Lacy answered a call and seemed to have a similar experience.
The third time Gideon called, Millie happened to be the one to answer. “Mr. McBride, please state whom you wish to reach.”
“Hello? Is this thing on? I don’t think it works.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear again. If she wasn’t so agitated with him for his improper use of the telephone service, she might have succumbed to a delicious shiver.
“I assure you it works, Mr. McBride. Unless you are completely deaf and dumb, there is no reason you can’t hear me. Now, let’s try again. Number please?”
“Hello? Hello?” His sigh carried over the connection. “I guess I’ll just try again later.”
Millie disconnected the call, yanked the headset off her head, tossed it down, and jumped to her feet. She stomped across the office and rammed her arms into the sleeves of her coat, not bothering to pin on a hat. “Either that man is playing games with us, or he’s a complete ignoramus. At any rate, I won’t allow him to continue to disrupt this office in such a manner.”
Lacy grinned over her shoulder as Millie opened the door. “Don’t enjoy taking him to task too much.”
Millie made a silly face then rushed outside and down the sidewalk. She turned at the corner and walked past Ilsa Campanelli’s fashion boutique. The woman waved from the front display window where she hung red and pink paper hearts in preparation for the fast-approaching Valentine’s Day.
Returning her wave, Millie continued down the street. She walked past Caterina Rawlings’ Italian restaurant where mouth-watering spices filled the air.
As she glanced in the window, she almost ran into the feisty woman and her three energetic children.
“Good afternoon, Millie. What brings you my direction in the middle of the afternoon?” Caterina asked, shifting her little girl from one arm to the other while her twins ran in circles around them.
“I have a new customer in need of more instruction on how to use his telephone.” Millie smiled at the almost six-year-old twins as they skidded to a stop and looked up at her. “How are you boys?”
“Great, Miss Matlock. We learned about President Washington in school today,” one of the boys replied.
Millie thought Brett spoke, but she was never quite certain. The only visible difference in the twins was their eye color. She still struggled to keep straight which one had brown eyes and which one had green.
The brown-eyed rascal spoke with mischief snapping in his eyes. “And at recess Brett and I climbed highest in the tree with the swing, even higher than the big boys.”
“You did? My goodness!” Pleased she’d guessed the boys correctly, she made another mental note that Brett had green eyes. She glanced from the twins to their baby sister. “And how is little Rachel? Did she recover from her cold?”
Caterina bounced the toddler, making the little girl giggle and flap her arms in the air.
“Mo, Mama. Mo!” she squealed.
With love glowing in her eyes, Caterina smiled at her curly-headed daughter then looked at Millie. “You wouldn’t believe how many times a day I am ordered by this one that she wants more. Thank you for asking about her cold. She’s well. Unless the boys bring home something else from school, I hope to keep her that way.”
Millie reached out and touched Rachel’s tiny hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before she took a step away. “I best be on my way, since I left Lacy alone in the office.”
“It was nice to see you, Millie. Come by for supper some evening.” Caterina unlocked the door to her restaurant and motioned her boys inside.
“I’ll do that. Have a pleasant afternoon, Caterina.”
The sound of a cat screeching rolled out the door. Caterina raised her voice and pushed the door open farther. “You boys leave poor Rufus alone. I mean it!” She turned back to Millie. “I better go. It takes those two less than a minute to tie the cat’s tail in a knot. See you later.”
The antics of the rambunctious Rawlings twins provided ongoing amusement for those who knew them. Little Rachel seemed to be less inclined to mischief than her brothers were, much to everyone’s relief.
Briskly marching down a side street and crossing it, Millie approached the Second Chance Saloon. She stepped into the alley and walked around to the back door. She tapped on it once and waited for someone to open it. When no one did, she rapped again.
The door swung open and Gideon offered her a surprised glance. “Miss Matlock? What brings you to my door?”
“Your telephone, Mr. McBride.” Millie didn’t wait for him to issue an invitation to join him inside. Instead, she strode forward, right past Gideon. By sheer will, she managed not to stare at his broad shoulders, bisected by the navy suspenders vertically crossing over his pristine white shirt. He wore no coat or vest. The dark trousers on his legs only served to outline his tall, muscular form. The afternoon sunbeams that danced through the open door landed on his head, causing his copper hair to shine.
“My telephone?” he asked, closing the door and taking a step closer to her.
Forcing herself to look up, she caught a glimpse of gold flecks swimming in the grassy fields of his eyes. Determined not to allow herself to let his good looks and engaging personality distract her from her purpose, she offered him a curt nod. “More specifically, your problem using the telephone is what brought me to your door.”
“Why’d you come to the back door?” he asked, leading the way down a hallway. “I’m not sure it’s safe for you to wander around the alleys.”
“I would not, under any circumstance, walk in your front door.” Light spilled into the hall from a large room that looked like a man’s office or library, drawing her interest. Books lined the shelves of one entire wall, a fireplace took up a portion of a second wall and big,
leather furniture gave it a masculine appearance. A broad desk with two chairs in front of it rested beneath a window that caught the afternoon sun.
Astonished to see such a nicely furnished and homey room, Millie turned her focus back to the matter at hand and traipsed behind the saloon owner.
Gideon stepped into a kitchen every bit as expansive as the one at Caterina’s restaurant and equipped with the latest equipment including a gas stove and refrigerator. She took in the round table with four chairs, long counters with plenty of workspace, and an assortment of cupboards.
The scent of roasting chicken mingled with the yeasty aroma of bread, reminding her she’d skipped lunch because they’d been so busy taking calls. Mindful of Lacy left alone in the office, she hurried over to the telephone on the wall nearest the doorway they entered and motioned for Gideon to stand next to her.
“To my knowledge, you’ve phoned our office at least three times today, Mr. McBride. We heard you each time you called, but you didn’t seem to hear our response. Please pay close attention and I’ll demonstrate how to place a telephone call.” Millie lifted the receiver and showed him how to crank the phone and place a call. She made him speak to Lacy when she answered back at the office.
When he disconnected the call, he turned to her with a satisfied smile. “That wasn’t so hard, Miss Matlock. You’re a very good teacher.”
“Thank you, Mr. McBride. Now, I expect you to use the phone properly from this day forward. Is that understood?” It took every ounce of restraint she possessed not to fall into the warmth in his eyes and linger over the dimples in those handsome cheeks.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gideon battled the urge to offer her a salute as she stood rigidly in his kitchen, barking orders.
Pink suffused her cheeks with a color that put him in mind of flower petals. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her skin to see if it felt as soft as it looked. The alluring hint of her fragrance certainly went along with his musings about spring flowers.
Hair the color of midnight swept away from her face in deep waves, confined by pins on top of her head. A few wisps enticingly danced around her face, highlighting its adorable heart shape.
Eyes as pale as the winter sky gazed at him, rimmed with lashes every bit as dark as her hair. Curious, he wondered how hard he’d have to work to bring a spark of fire to them.
If he was interested in courting a woman, which he absolutely was not, the one standing in his kitchen would be worthy of pursuit.
The sound of her stomach growling made him tamp down a grin. “Hungry?” he asked.
Her cheeks went from pink to red as she tugged on her gloves. “I need to go,” she said, and took a step toward the hall.
Gideon placed a hand on her arm. She stopped and stared at his hand, as though each finger was a foreign object she didn’t recognize. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his.
His look held a hint of pleading. “Please stay for a cup of coffee. It’s the least I can do after you came all the way over here and provided such invaluable instruction.”
Millie shook her head. “I really must go. Mrs. Hill is alone in the office and we’ve been unusually busy today.”
“Then I insist you take something with you.” Gideon opened the warming oven and removed a pie tin, wrapping it in a dishtowel. “Please accept this.”
Millie kept her hands at her sides, refusing to take what he offered. “I couldn’t, Mr. McBride.”
“Oh, but you can, Miss Matlock. Please? You’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t.” He affected a boyish pout so full of charm, no one could have told him no, least of all her.
Reluctantly, she reached out and accepted the towel-wrapped gift. “Do you have a cook?” she asked, taken aback by the orderly kitchen full of wonderful mouth-watering smells. She’d expected the entire building to reek of liquor, but the delicious aroma of dinner cooking permeated the air. Even degenerates like Mr. McBride needed to eat.
He shook his head and took her elbow in his hand, guiding her down the hallway to the back entry. “No. I do my own cooking.”
Shocked by that statement, Millie stared at him as he opened the door.
“Would you like me to walk with you to the telephone office?” He reached for his coat but before he could put it on, she rushed outside.
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine. Have a pleasant remainder of the day, Mr. McBride.”
Gideon smiled and tipped his head to her. “I plan to, Miss Matlock. Enjoy your evening.”
She turned and hurried to the side alley, aware that he observed her departure. As she reached the sidewalk and strode past the front of his business, he waved to her from where he watched out the window.
Unsettled by the sight of him, she wanted to pick up her skirts and run back to the telephone office. Instead, she maintained a decorous pace.
The moment she stepped inside the telephone office, Lacy turned to her with an inquisitive look. “Well?”
“That is a very deep subject and one the farmers enjoy discussing at length,” Millie said with a saucy grin as she set her towel-wrapped gift on the counter and removed her coat.
“You know I’ll keep pestering you until you tell me how things went with handsome Mr. McBride.”
Millie raised an eyebrow at her friend and tipped her head toward the bank across the street. “Perhaps I should run over and tell Grant you’ve become enamored with a saloon owner.”
Lacy gave her a dark look. “We both know that’s not true and Grant wouldn’t believe you anyway. He knows I love him with every bit of my heart and then some.”
“That he does.” Millie folded back the dishtowel and inhaled the scent of cinnamon as the fragrant spice wafted up from a pie. The flaky golden crust called to her, encouraging her to cut a piece.
“Mmm. What smells so good?” Lacy asked, removing her headset and rising to her feet as Millie carried over the pie.
“Evidently, Mr. McBride either knows how to cook or is a very good liar. He sent this as thanks for my help and said he made it himself.” Millie’s stomach growled again and Lacy giggled.
“Why don’t you sample that and see if it’s as good as it looks?”
“Only if you have a piece, too.” Millie started up the stairs to her apartment but glanced back at Lacy. “With tea?”
“Yes, please.” Lacy snatched up her headset and answered an incoming call.
Millie hurried up the stairs and made two cups of tea. She carried them downstairs then returned to slice two pieces of the pie. Her stomach nearly staged a revolt and climbed right out her ears as she cut into the crust. Cinnamon-laden juice ran out of the slice, beckoning her to savor its sweetness.
Rather than give in to the desire to swipe her finger through the juice and lick it, she rushed downstairs and handed Lacy a serving of the pie.
The two women each took a bite then looked at each other in astonishment.
“My heavens, but that’s good.” Millie forked another bite. “I thought it was apple, but is it pear?”
“I believe it is.” Lacy took another bite then grinned at Millie. “If you aren’t going to lay claim on a man as handsome, polite, and mannerly as Mr. McBride who also cooks like this, I’ll take you to see Doc Reed. Only a crazy woman would be able to resist that combination.”
“You better reserve a room for me at an asylum, because I’m not interested in that man.” Millie sipped her tea, unwilling to admit even to herself how hard it was to resist Gideon McBride. “Besides, what makes you think he’d give me the time of day?”
Lacy choked on the pie she’d just swallowed and coughed into her handkerchief. Once her eyes stopped watering and she could speak, she shook her head. “You’ll figure it out.”
“What’s that supposed to…?” The bell above the door jangled and Grant walked inside, smiling at his wife.
“Millie, might I steal my wife away from you? The weather this afternoon is lovely and I hate to pass up the opportunity to sneak in a ride to see her grandmother.
Loren can handle the bank until closing time if you two ladies aren’t overwhelmed with calls.”
Lacy grinned at her husband. “Come here, Grant. You must taste this.” She held a bite of pie out to him on her fork.
Hesitant, Grant walked behind the counter and over to Lacy. “Millie didn’t make it, did she?”
Millie glowered at him while Lacy smiled. “No. Just try it.”
Grant took the bite, pleasure showing on his features. “That’s good. I better have another taste, though, just to be sure.”
Indulgently, Lacy gave him the last bite of her pie.
“That’s really good.” Grant wiped his mouth on the handkerchief Lacy handed him then turned to Millie. “Where did you get it?”
“Gideon McBride.”
Grant’s eyebrows rose upward. “The saloon owner? He gave you a pie?”
“He not only gave her the pie,” Lacy said, shooting Millie a teasing grin. “He baked the pie.”
“Is that so? Perhaps he should consider opening a bakery once you women run all the saloons out of town.”
Lacy stood and wrapped her hand around Grant’s arm. “I think Mr. McBride is infatuated with Millie.”
Ready for the conversation to end, Millie rose to her feet. “Grant, do me a favor and take your wife out for some fresh air. Evidently, the confines of the office have altered her ability to think with any degree of reason today.”
“I’ll gladly take her off your hands.” He hurried to grab Lacy’s coat from the rack by the door and held it while she slipped it on. “Do you need anything before we leave?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll take the dishes upstairs when Susan comes.” Millie pointed toward the door. “Go on and enjoy the beautiful weather while it lasts and be sure to tell Rebecca hello for me if you do ride out to the reservation.”
“Thanks, Millie.” Lacy waved as Grant opened the door and escorted her outside.
Millie slumped back in her chair and finished her pie. As she sipped her tea, she considered Lacy’s comments.
Gideon McBride would make someone a fine husband if he made a living doing something other than ruining people’s lives.
Millie (Pendleton Petticoats Book 7) Page 3