Millie grinned. “I don’t think we’re quite that glamorous, but it was fun to see.”
Gideon leaned down until she could see shades of evergreen and moss blending with flecks of gold in his eyes. “I think you’re far prettier, Miss Matlock. In fact…”
“Millie!” A high-pitch voice squawked from down the street, drawing their attention.
Gideon glanced over his shoulder, recognizing Almira Raines. Not only was she a member of the temperance committee and a confirmed spinster, but Miss Raines could talk the ears right off a dead dog.
Before the woman could identify him, Gideon tipped his hat to Millie. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Matlock. Good bye.” With a few long strides, he disappeared down the alley.
Annoyed by Almira’s ill-timed appearance, Millie refused to watch him go. She forced a smile to her face as the woman bustled up to her. “Good afternoon, Almira. How does this day find you?”
“It finds me utterly distraught, Millie! Mrs. Peabody heard from Mrs. Gorman that Mrs. Bradshaw saw you at the park with that detestable Mr. McBride. I hurried right over to see for myself.” Almira glanced around, hoping to see who’d been with Millie. With weak eyesight and a strong dose of vanity that kept her from confessing she couldn’t see anything more than five feet in front of her, Almira wasn’t sure if Millie was alone or with someone when she turned the corner.
“As you can see, I’m here by myself, but I do appreciate your concern.” Millie stepped inside the telephone office. “Have a pleasant evening, Almira. Do hurry home, dear. It’s terribly cold outside.”
Before the woman insisted on accompanying her inside, Millie closed and locked the door. She rushed up to her apartment, allowing her thoughts to linger over how much she enjoyed the time spent with Gideon.
Once she removed her gloves, she stared at the palm of her hand, recalling the delightful tingling sensation that flooded over her when his hand held hers.
She knew it was foolhardy and stupid to allow herself to think of the handsome saloon owner. It couldn’t hurt, just for one day, though, to pretend he was more than an enemy turned friend.
Chapter Ten
Wrapped in the loving embrace of her dreams, Millie snuggled against her pillow. Visions of eyes as bright and warm as a spring meadow made her smile while the fresh, decadent scent that was uniquely Gideon filled her nose.
Lost in the imaginings of what it would feel like to be held against his firm chest, to have those tempting lips of his pressed against hers, she failed to hear the chime of an incoming call.
Once the switchboard shut down for the night, Millie had a bell that would sound in her apartment in the event a call was placed after hours.
The bell rang again, stirring her from her dreams.
The third ding drew her fully awake. Not taking time to grab a robe or shove her feet into slippers, she flipped on the light and raced down the steps to the switchboard.
“Pendleton Central,” she said, slightly out of breath.
“Call the fire department! There’s a house in flames just a block past the Methodist church.”
Before she could identify the caller, the line went dead.
Immediately, she called the head of the volunteer fire department, awaking him from a sound slumber. After assuring him she’d phone the others on the volunteer list, she swiftly called them all to duty.
Curious and concerned, Millie raced back upstairs and shoved her bare feet into a pair of winter boots. She wrapped a scarf around her head and neck then jabbed her arms into the sleeves of her long coat, buttoning it on her way out the door.
Without her petticoats and corset to hamper her efforts, she ran through the silent streets, hastening past the Methodist Church. The impressive building had been constructed the previous year of majestic stone shipped by railcar from Baker City. At least wandering sparks from the nearby fire wouldn’t set it aflame.
Ahead, bright orange flames licked upward against the night sky. She arrived at the house at the same time the fire chief pulled up with the fire wagon and half a dozen men.
Millie stopped at the edge of the street, watching as a man raced outside with the back of his shirt on fire and a baby in his arms. A frantic woman took the baby from him. The man started to go back into the burning house, but one of the firefighters tossed a blanket over him, tackling him and rolling him on the ground to put out the flames.
Once the man’s shirt was no longer burning, the fireman returned to the fire wagon, helping drag hoses toward the house.
The woman holding the baby screamed and pointed toward the second floor of her home. Two firefighters raced inside and soon returned with the limp figure of a young boy.
Unable to stand by when she might be of help, Millie hurried into the yard, taking the crying baby from the woman’s arms so the distraught mother could hold her son. At that point, Millie didn’t know if the boy was unconscious or the unthinkable had happened.
Gently rocking the baby, Millie murmured soothingly, offering what comfort she could. “It’ll be fine, baby. No need to fret, little one. You are safe and loved.”
The man the fireman had tackled lumbered to his feet and shook off the blanket covering him. Millie inhaled a sharp breath as Gideon McBride tried to glance over his shoulder at his back.
Stunned to see him there, she watched as he looked around the yard, appearing to count the number of children. She crossed the distance between them and placed a hand on his arm. “Mr. McBride? Are you well?”
“Did they get the last child out?” he asked, without acknowledging her presence.
“How many are there?”
He pointed toward the mother still holding her lax son. “She said there were six kids and a dog. I couldn’t find the dog.” Gideon’s voice sounded hoarse and gravelly. A cough wracked through him and he bent over, trying to catch his breath.
Millie started to pat his back, but jerked her hand away at the sight before her. The back of his shirt was in charred tatters, revealing deep scars crisscrossing his back. She sucked in a gulp of air, wondering what kind of circumstance had left such hideous wounds.
Gideon didn’t give her time to dwell on it though. He coughed again then drew in a long breath of air before noticing the baby in her arms. “Do you see six of them?” he asked.
Quickly, Millie counted the children who sat around their mother and waited to see if their brother would awaken. “They’re all safe. You got them out.” It was then she noticed a heavy coat draped around the shoulders of the mother and recognized it as Gideon’s. The family wasn’t on Millie’s phone subscriber list and they didn’t attend her church, but she thought their last name was Wendell.
“Do you know the family?” she asked, looking at Gideon.
He shook his head and ran a soot-covered hand through his disheveled hair. “I don’t. I was out for a walk when I heard an explosion and followed the sound over here. Flames were shooting out of the back of the house when I arrived and it didn’t take long for the whole thing to catch fire.”
“Mrs. Wendell is fortunate you were nearby. Were you the one who called for help?”
“I asked one of the neighbors to call you.” Gideon coughed again and his lungs rattled. He braced his hands on his knees until he caught his breath.
Millie snatched up the blanket he’d discarded and carefully draped it over his back. “You’ll catch your death of cold out here with your back uncovered.”
“I got plenty warm trying to get the kids out of the house.” His voice sounded even raspier when he straightened, but he kept the blanket pulled around his shoulders.
The baby girl Millie held had fallen asleep. One tiny hand clutched a curl that had escaped Millie’s night braid and fallen across her chest.
Too far gone to save, the firefighters stood in the yard and watched the house burn, careful to keep any sparks from catching neighboring houses on fire. Thanks to snow covering the ground, at least there wasn’t any worry of dry grass burning.<
br />
A cheer went up when the boy Mrs. Wendell continued to hold coughed and gagged, revived by the cold night air.
“Thank goodness!” Millie watched the woman hug her son. The other children crowded around their brother and a soot-streaked dog ran up to them, barking.
“That’s good,” Gideon said with a crooked smile.
The flames burning in the background added an amber glow to his copper head while fiery light shone in his eyes. Millie struggled against the urge to smooth a hand over his hair and wipe the soot from his face. Rather than surrender to it, she gave Gideon a questioning glance. “What in the world were you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
He kept his gaze on the boy being lavished with kisses by Mrs. Wendell. “Once I close down for the night, I sometimes find myself in need of a little fresh air. I like to go for walks.”
Another rattling cough kept him from further explaining that he needed the night air to clear the smell of alcohol from his nose and the exercise to help his body rest when he eventually allowed himself to sleep. There’d been many times on his walks he’d put a stop to a robbery about to happen or kept a woman from enduring an unspeakable tragedy. The sheriff’s office asked for his help from time to time and he gladly gave it.
Pendleton was his home and he loved living in the growing town. As a member of the community, he felt a sense of duty to protect it when at all possible.
He was on his way home from a long walk when he happened to hear what sounded like firecrackers exploding. Only a block away, he ran down the street and around the corner about the time flames shot from the back of the Wendell home.
With no thought to his safety, Gideon raced to the front door, but found it locked. He shouted to a neighbor to call the fire department then used a brick to shatter the front window and hurried inside. By then, Mrs. Wendell was standing in the front hall, disoriented. She summoned enough sense to tell him she had six children asleep in the house along with a dog.
Gideon charged up the stairs and started hauling the kids out as he found them. He didn’t recall giving Mrs. Wendell his coat, but he must have at some point.
He had no idea his shirt was on fire. After the third trip inside, his entire body felt hot enough to light kindling, so he hadn’t paid it any mind.
It was a good thing the fireman snuffed out the flames when he did. Other than a few minor burns and lungs full of smoke, Gideon hadn’t suffered any injury.
He watched as Deputy Rawlings arrived along with Doc Reed. The doctor wasted no time in looking over each of the children and Mrs. Wendell.
One of the firefighters insisted Doc take a look at Gideon. After listening to Gideon’s labored breathing, the doctor insisted he spend the night at the hospital. Steadfastly refusing to go, Doc gave up trying to convince him and turned to Millie.
“Will you see he at least gets those burns doctored and drinks at least a quart of water before he goes to bed, Miss Matlock?” Doc Reed asked, aware the two of them were friends.
“I will, Doc.” Millie handed the sleeping babe in her arms to the doctor. “Is there anything I can do to help Mrs. Wendell?”
“Not tonight.” Doc spoke to her although he kept his attention on the baby. “I’ll take them all back to my office for now. I want to make sure the little ones are breathing well and Mrs. Wendell has a burn on her arm that would benefit from some salve. From what I can see, though, they should all be fine come morning.”
Millie nodded and waited as Kade Rawlings wrote down Gideon’s statement.
“This family is mighty lucky you just happened by, Gideon.” Kade started to thump him on the back then thought better of it. “Go on home and get some rest. If I have any other questions, I know where to find you.”
“Thanks, Kade.” Gideon turned toward Millie, noticing she wore a coat over her nightgown. Her hair was down but the end of her braid was tucked beneath her scarf and coat. “I’ll see you home, Miss Matlock.”
“I think perhaps I should be the one to see you home,” Millie said, keeping step with Gideon as he moved onto the sidewalk. His hand cupped her elbow and she smiled as he guided her to the end of the block and turned left onto the street.
Although she assumed he allowed her to accompanying him back to the Second Chance so she could clean and doctor his burns, he abruptly turned right at Main Street, planning to take her home.
Millie set her feet and refused to budge. “Either you allow me to follow through with Doc Reed’s orders at your place or I’ll march you over to the hospital right this minute.”
“I’m fine, Miss Matlock. Truly. I’ve always had a little trouble with asthma and the smoke makes it worse.”
She glared at him. “You have bronchial problems and you ran into that fire without giving it a second thought?”
“I was there and they needed help.” Gideon didn’t feel any more explanation was necessary. He took Millie’s upper arm in his hand, pulling her along with him. “It’s too cold and I’m too tired to stand out here and argue with you. Just to be clear, there is no way I’m allowing you to walk home by yourself from my saloon or anywhere else at this time of night.”
“Then you’ll come in with me and I’ll see to you at my place.” She stared at him in the yellow haze from the gaslights lining the street.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Exasperated, she released a huff that turned into a fluffy plume in the cold night air. “Mr. McBride, you’re being thoroughly and undeniably ridiculous. I must insist on providing you with the medical attention you need.” Millie started to pull away from him, but he tightened his hold on her arm. Not enough to hurt her, but with a hint of pressure that let her know he wasn’t stopping until they reached her apartment.
In silence, he walked her to the front of the telephone office. At that moment, she couldn’t recall locking the door, but a test of the knob assured her it was secure. Suddenly, Millie realized that in her haste she’d forgotten to grab her key.
Annoyed she’d locked herself out, upset that Gideon had placed himself in danger, and saddened by the fire that claimed the Wendell’s home, she marched around to the back alley and climbed the steps to the landing outside her apartment.
“What are you doing?” Gideon asked from behind her, turning away to cough again. The rattle in his chest sounded worse instead of better.
“I hid a spare key out here, if I can just find it.” In the dark, her fingers groped along the brick wall surrounding the door. She counted ten bricks up from the bottom and over three, wiggling a loose brick. When she pulled it out, she stuck her hand in the hole and retrieved a key. Hastily sliding it in the lock, she opened the door, returned the key to the hiding spot then entered the warmth of her kitchen.
Gideon followed her, observing her kitchen when she flicked a switch and light bathed the room in a soft glow.
“Have a seat.” She pointed to a kitchen chair then hurried to add wood to the stove and slide a kettle to a burner that would soon heat. “I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared down the hallway. In her absence, Gideon took in the neat and tidy appearance of the kitchen. The stove shone, like it had been recently polished, the glass doors on a cupboard gleamed, and a framed sampler on the wall showed off someone’s talent at embroidery as well as the sentiment that the apartment was “home, sweet home.”
It took only a few minutes for Millie to return. She wore a thick robe instead of her coat and slippers on her feet instead of her boots. In her hands, she carried a towel and a box of what appeared to be medical supplies.
“I really don’t think I’m hurt, Millie. I’ll be on my way.” Gideon started to rise, but she glared at him.
“Please sit down.”
He returned his backside to the seat of the chair and let the blanket he’d held draped around him fall away. Other than streaks of soot marring the front of his expensive pearl gray shirt, it didn’t look any worse for wear.
&
nbsp; However, the back was a different matter. All that remained in a solid piece were the collar and yoke. The rest of it hung in burned strips. The backs of the sleeves were scorched and the smell of it made Millie almost gag.
“Take that thing off, Mr. McBride. There’s not enough left of your shirt to do you any good.”
His gaze dropped to the front of his shirt, taking in its filthy yet whole state. “It’s fine.”
She shook her head and filled a large glass of water at the sink, handing it to him. “No. It’s a long way from fine. If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.”
Gideon turned just enough he could see the reflection of his back in her kitchen window. She was right. The few threads holding it together were useless.
“I better go.” He stood but Millie blocked his ability to move away from the table.
Her index finger poked into his chest as she took a step closer to him. “Sit down. You aren’t going anywhere until you drink that water and I take a look at your back.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll just…”
“Sit. Down.” Her finger poked him again and her legs bumped against his. Without layers of petticoats and all her proper attire to swath her form, he could feel the soft contours of her legs as she pushed against him.
Reluctantly, he resumed his seat and gulped half the glass of water. It caused him to have such a fit of coughing that he clutched a hand to his chest, pressing against the pain before it subsided.
Millie took a mug down from a cupboard and filled it with hot water. After stirring in a generous spoon full of honey, she set it in front of him. “Drink that. Slowly.”
He inhaled the sweet steam and took a few sips, letting his gaze travel over the fluffy white curtains at her windows. Pink rose-sprigged dishes lined a shelf, and a clock on the wall let him know precious little remained of the night.
The ache in his throat eased as the honey coated his airways. Almost instantly, he found it easier to breathe. Nonetheless, the last thing he wanted was for Millie to examine his back, so he sat with it pressed tightly against the kitchen chair.
Millie (Pendleton Petticoats Book 7) Page 9
