They closed and locked the wooden doors then Gideon sent Abel home. With the president of the commercial committee demanding every business in town remain closed on Independence Day so all citizens could attend the festivities, Gideon decided to leave the doors to his place locked until the following Monday. He’d reopen the business then as McBride’s Café.
Due to the number of people suddenly unemployed, Gideon had three empty rental houses and offered one of them to Cully and his mother, rent free, as part of their wages for working in his restaurant.
The woman and her son had promised to arrive early the following day to begin converting the saloon into a restaurant. Mrs. Campbell had cried tears of joy when Gideon asked her if she’d be his cook and he hired Cully to be a helper. The boy could clear tables, run errands, and polish the silverware.
Abel planned to spend a well-earned vacation with his wife and daughters. He intended to take them on a camping trip to the mountains and be back in time to start his new job as manager of the restaurant the following Monday.
In spite of the saloon owners’ efforts to file a lawsuit and have the election declared illegal, nothing came of it except a bunch of attorney’s fees.
While Kyle Steel and a few others had tried to get Gideon involved in the mess, he refused. Prohibition had arrived, whether they liked it or not, and fighting it wouldn’t do anyone any good.
The following days turned into a whirlwind of activity as Gideon cleaned and cooked, made trips to the depot to pick up the restaurant supplies he’d ordered, and organized the kitchen with the help of Mrs. Campbell and Cully.
Millie came in the evenings and helped, too. With the saloons closed, the telephone company decided there was no need for the telephone office to remain open so late. The last calls of the day ended at eight each evening.
Together, Millie and Gideon celebrated the Fourth of July with their friends, enjoying a day of fun. For once, Kade and Lars hadn’t been called in to work all night due to drunks shooting up the town. The two deputies were able to spend the evening at Nash’s Folly watching a firework display created by the bunkhouse cook, Li Hong.
That Saturday, Gideon made dinner for Millie then walked her back to her apartment before the sun fully set. After he checked to make sure all was well in her apartment, he pecked her cheek in a friendly gesture and left before he gave in to his need to hold her and love her.
With nothing better to do, Gideon went to Drake’s. His friend had turned his saloon into a theater for moving pictures. It appeared to be doing a booming business if the line at the door was any indication. For thirty minutes, he worked alongside Drake, selling tickets and greeting patrons.
Once the show began, Gideon ambled back to his place. In the kitchen, he sat down at the table with a glass of ice water and went through mail he’d neglected to open the last week.
He scanned over a few advertisements and tossed them aside to drop into the stove later. A new Field and Stream magazine caught his eye and he placed it in the pile to take into his private quarters.
Gideon opened an envelope and unfolded a note from a fellow saloon owner. Archie Cook had written a letter to members of the Saloon Owners Alliance of Pendleton. He encouraged them to remain in town and do their best to continue to operate successful enterprises even though they would no longer serve alcohol. He also cautioned them from holding any resentment toward the temperance tempest and her committee.
Much to Gideon’s surprise, there was also a note from Kyle Steel, lambasting him for not doing a better job of controlling Millie. Gideon had heard Kyle planned to move to a town in Washington to take over operation of a saloon and thought the man had already left Pendleton.
He set aside the letters and picked up the newspaper when a thought struck him. As though he stood in Millie’s bedroom staring at the writing on her mirror the day someone had painted on the glass, he recognized the distinctive scrawl on the note he’d just read.
Shocked to realize he had the proof in his hand of who’d terrorized Millie, Gideon contemplated the best course of action.
He’d just risen to his feet to go to the sheriff’s office when the phone on his wall jangled. It was past hours for the telephone office to be open and he wondered who would call at such a late hour.
Curious, he answered. He started to say, “Second Chance,” but caught his fumble and switched to “McBride’s.”
“Help me, Gideon!” Millie’s desperate whisper carried over the phone line. “He’s here. He’s upstairs.”
Gideon heard the sound of glass breaking and a thudding noise. “Millie! Get out of there, right now. Run to Grant and Lacy’s!”
She screamed and the line went dead.
The phone dropped from his hand and dangled in the air as he raced through his place and out the front door. Across the street, he caught Drake standing at the door selling tickets to his next show.
“Send someone to get the sheriff and have them go to Millie’s place. Now!”
Before Drake could respond, Gideon turned and ran down the street. His legs pumped with a speed he’d never before reached and his lungs burned with each wheezing breath he took, but he continued running.
Cutting across the lot behind the telephone office building, he took the stairs up to her apartment three at a time. Shards of broken glass littered the landing from the kitchen window that had been broken out. Heedless to the glass, Gideon swung over the railing and in the window, landing on the kitchen floor.
Glass crackled beneath his boots, but he made his way through the kitchen and glanced into the hall.
A dull thud from the sitting room drew him that direction.
Warily, he stuck his head around the corner and watched in horror as Millie fell to her knees when a man backhanded her across the face.
With no thought to his own safety, he rushed into the room.
Earlier that same Saturday evening, Millie watched Gideon stuff his hands in his pockets and saunter down the street after he’d made her a delicious dinner and escorted her home. Frustrated, she sullenly walked upstairs to her apartment.
No matter how many times she tried to convince herself it was all for the best they remained solely friends, her mind pleaded for more. Her lips tingled for want of his kiss, her arms ached to hold him, and her heart cried out to love him.
But it just wasn’t meant to be. Not when Millie refused to submit to the bonds of love or marriage.
It was because of her determination to remain independent and unburdened that she’d moved back into her apartment and pretended she wasn’t scared half to death every night.
Restless after Gideon’s departure, she sat in her rocking chair, stitching the salvaged remnants of three shirtwaists into a fancy throw pillow. Ilsa had commented on the first one she made, saying how lovely and unique it appeared. She offered to sell the pillows in her store, if Millie wanted to make them.
The creative outlet took her mind off her troubles and gave her something to do with her evenings after Gideon walked her home.
She stitched until it was too dark to see and her eyes felt too heavy to keep open. Setting the pillow covering aside, she double-checked to make sure the kitchen door was locked then readied for bed.
Sleep claimed her almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Complete darkness blanketed the room when a noise awakened her. Quietly slipping from bed, she snatched up her wrapper and shoved her arms in the sleeves before creeping out of her room and into the hall.
The sound of breaking glass made her bite her lip to keep from screaming as she raced past the kitchen and to the stairs.
Frantic, she opened the door leading down to the telephone office and cringed when the hinge squeaked. She flew down the stairs, listening to more glass breaking and the grunts of someone climbing inside.
Her first thought was to call for help. She raced to the switchboard and called Gideon. Too late, she realized her folly. The smart thing to do would have been to open the door and run down the st
reet.
Even as Gideon told her to run, she leaped to her feet and yanked off the headset, prepared to make an escape, but a clammy hand grabbed her arm and she screamed.
Struggling against her captor, Millie twisted and kicked, but he far outweighed her.
With an arm around her waist, he jerked her head back with his other hand, making her gasp in pain.
“Not so feisty now, are you?” The hood over his face muffled the man’s voice. All she could see were slits where his eyes glittered from behind the black fabric.
He dragged her toward the stairs and flicked on the light. The more she fought against him, the tighter his arm squeezed her waist and the more he pulled on her hair. If he tightened his arm any more, Millie thought she’d either pass out or become violently ill.
At the top of the stairs, he swung her into the sitting room, tossing her onto the sofa then turning on the electric lights.
“What do you want?” she asked, coming to her feet. While she stared at him, her mind scrambled to locate something she could use for a weapon. Other than her sewing scissors and the fireplace poker across the room, not much presented itself.
“Well, little temperance tempest, I’ve decided to make you pay for the irreparable and unnecessary suffering you’ve brought to this town, in particular the saloon owners. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What you’ve destroyed? You’ve left men without jobs and successful businessmen nearly penniless. And for what? So you can march around this town, swaying that sweet little backside around whenever and wherever you like?”
Millie’s panic was about to give way to full-fledged terror at the man’s words and the odd gleam in his eyes.
Although she was certain she knew her attacker’s identity, she was surprised he was there. She’d heard he’d moved away to manage a saloon somewhere in Washington. In a bid to buy herself time, Millie backed away from him.
“I’m sorry if the contributions I made with the temperance committee illuminated the need for prohibition in our town, but I do believe with or without my work, it would have arrived anyway. I had nothing to do with temperance unions in the other communities in Umatilla County, or in the three other counties that voted to go dry. My efforts were only here in Pendleton.”
“And what passionate efforts they were, Miss Matlock. It wasn’t enough you led poor Gideon on such a merry chase he lost sight of the true purpose of our plans. No, you had to charm your way into the good graces of most of our association.” The man took a menacing step toward her. “You have no idea how many men kept watch over you, making sure you and your cronies remained safe. And Gideon was at the forefront, demanding everyone stay away from you.”
Millie inched closer to the fireplace, hoping to be able to grab the poker and strike a blow before the lunatic realized her plans.
“Gideon isn’t here now, is he? You’ve got no one to protect you.” The man lunged at her and Millie made a wild grasp at his hood, pulling it from his head.
She barely registered the blow he delivered as her knees crumpled and she fell to the floor.
He whipped out a gun and pointed it at her. “You’re gonna march down that hall to your bedroom and we’re gonna have a little fun, then I’ll leave you with a bullet between your eyes and a piece of fabric torn from a purple shirt exactly like Kyle Steel’s.”
Gideon stepped from the shadows and grabbed his arm from behind. “Actually, I think you better just drop that gun and come with me to the sheriff’s office. I was on my way there to tell them the identity of the man who broke in here the last time when Millie called.”
Archie Cook sneered. “And here I thought I caught her before she managed to make a call. Well, this will work out even better. I’ll make it look like you two had a lover’s spat and killed each other, although I was hoping to see Kyle rot behind bars. That man is an infernal nuisance.”
Much to Gideon’s surprise, Archie buried the blade of a knife into his leg and used the momentum from that to wrench out of his grasp.
In the moment it took Gideon to pull out the knife, Archie reached down and grabbed Millie by the throat, tugging her to her feet and holding the gun to her head.
“What do you think, Gideon? Should I shoot you in the gut so you can watch all the horrible things I plan to do to your hello girl as you slowly bleed out? Or perhaps I should do more damage with that knife and let you die listening to her screams of terror.”
“You’re sick, Archie.” Gideon slowly moved the knife in his hand, preparing to throw it. He had one chance at stopping the crazed man. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who attacked all those girls? Everyone thought it was Kyle, but it was you all along.”
“Guilty as charged. Who would have thought the jovial Archie Cook capable of such dark, dastardly deeds?”
Millie stared at Gideon, eyes wide and filled with fear, but aware of the knife he still held. She blinked twice, as though trying to communicate that she understood what he planned to do.
“Oh, heck, I can’t have all the fun and not let you watch.” Archie fired the gun at Gideon, hitting him in his midsection.
Millie screamed and jerked downward at the same moment Gideon let the knife fly. It hit Archie square in the chest, knocking him backward.
Caught in the twisted lengths of her nightgown and wrapper, Millie scrambled across the floor on hands and knees, desperate to reach Gideon where he’d collapsed.
Hastily snatching a pillow from the sofa, she pressed it against the bleeding wound while tears dripped down her cheeks.
“Gideon McBride, don’t you dare die on me. Don’t you dare!”
“Whatever you say, Toots,” he whispered, his skin ashen as he closed his eyes against the pain burning through him.
“Millie! Are you in there?” Kade Rawlings’ voice carried through the broken window and he rattled the back door.
Millie jumped to her feet and ran into the kitchen, dropping the bar and unlocking the door.
Kade charged inside with a cocked gun in his hand. After one glance at her pale face and the blood on her hands, he holstered his gun. “What happened?”
“We need the doctor, right away. It’s Gideon,” she said, hurrying back to the sitting room. Kade took in the shallow rise and fall of Gideon’s chest and the sightless stare of Archie’s eyes. He pushed the lids down then took Millie’s arm in his hand again, pulling her into the kitchen.
“Wash your hands. Quick. Call the hospital and tell them I’m bringing in Gideon. I’ll go get a wagon.”
Before she could do more than turn on the faucet, Kade clattered down the stairs and she heard the bang of the front door.
She called the hospital then raced back upstairs and hastily dressed.
When Kade returned with two men, she sat next to Gideon, holding his hand and praying with his head cradled on her lap.
“Be careful lifting him up,” Kade cautioned as he took Gideon’s shoulders while the men each took a leg.
Millie followed them out to a wagon and didn’t say a word when Kade swung her into the back beside Gideon.
In minutes, they arrived at the hospital where Doc Reed hurried out to meet them along with two orderlies and a nurse.
Inside, Millie paced the floor. Kade disappeared and returned a short while later with Grant and Lacy. The couple stayed with her, waiting for word about Gideon as they continued to send up prayers.
In those midnight hours fraught with worry about whether Gideon would survive, Millie realized she’d been a fool.
The love of a good man wouldn’t be a hindrance. Not when it was such a blessing.
Gideon was willing to sacrifice himself for her sake because he loved her. Loved her thoroughly and completely, of that she had no doubt. And she loved him just as wholeheartedly. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to spend the rest of her life showing him just how much she loved him, how much she needed him, because she did. She needed to wake up every morning to see his smile and fall asleep every night held i
n his arms.
Just as soon as he was awake, she planned to tell him so.
Finally, Doc Reed appeared, looking haggard and weary. Millie stood with Lacy and Grant flanking her.
The doctor rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, but gave Millie a warm smile. “That boy is dang lucky, Miss Millie. The shot went through clean and just barely nicked the edge of his spleen. We’d be planning his funeral if it had been even a centimeter off in any direction. Even though he lost a lot of blood, he’ll be fine.”
Her wobbly knees gave out and Millie sank onto a chair. “Oh, that’s the best news, Doc. Thank you.” Suddenly remembering the knife wound, she looked to the doctor. “What about his leg?”
“He’ll limp for a few days, but it should be right as rain in no time as long as we keep the wound clean.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
The doctor grinned. “It certainly is. Now, if you all will excuse me, I’m going home to my wife and my bed. I’ll check on Gideon in the morning. I don’t want him disturbed, but if you’re quiet about it, you can sit with him, Millie.”
“Thank you,” she stood and squeezed the doctor’s hand before he left.
A nurse took her to the room where Gideon rested in a bed nearly too small for his frame. His skin was as pale as the sheets around him, but it no longer held a gray tinge.
Millie smiled at the nurse as the woman set a straight-backed chair near the bed and motioned for her to have a seat.
She sat down and gently lifted Gideon’s hand, holding it in her own. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she offered prayers of thanksgiving that he would heal.
Minutes, maybe even hours, may have passed as she held his hand in hers, but she lost all track of time.
Eventually, his eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes. At first, they appeared dazed. He looked around in confusion until he noticed her beside him.
“Hi,” he whispered in a raspy voice.
“Shh, Gideon. Don’t try to talk.” She lifted a glass of water the nurse had left on a narrow table by the bed and held it to his lips. He took a few sips then let his head settle back against the pillow.
Millie (Pendleton Petticoats Book 7) Page 27