Two nights ago when she’d checked into a boardinghouse at Andrew’s insistence, she’d unpacked the small bag she’d gotten away with. David Stone’s Bible and cuff links were in the bottom of it, along with her lip rouge and frilly garters. A wave of shame had swept over her—a rare occurrence in her lifetime. She had stolen a man’s Bible, of all things. Was it for sentimental reasons?
She’d opened the cover and seen “David Stone, Esq.” written in neat script. Esq. Esquire, she supposed, but what did that mean, anyway?
Out of curiosity, she’d sat down on her lumpy cot and flipped through the leather-bound little book. The tiny print made her bring the lamp closer, but she discovered several underlined places in the text. She browsed through the book, skimming the lines that he’d underscored. It made little sense to her—random thoughts that she supposed he’d found interesting. At last she’d laid it aside and gone to bed, exhausted from riding half the day and cooking the other half. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep had been that someday she ought to return the Bible. And the cuff links. And maybe even the ten dollars she’d stolen from his room. No, maybe not that. He would never miss it.
Now the thought came to her again as she arranged fried chicken and heaps of potatoes and squash on the heavy plates. She had stolen, and she ought to return the money—that and the pie money she’d taken from this restaurant a week or two ago. She owed Andrew five dollars. He’d never realized it and had gladly taken her back to work for him. He knew he was better off with her here in the kitchen, and she would make a pile of money for him. So why was her conscience bothering her about it?
Stubby dragged in, sagging under the weight of his laden tray. “Miss Virginia says hurry up wid the chicken dinners.”
Millie arranged the plates carefully on a tray so that they wouldn’t slide and lifted it to her shoulder. She shoved the door open and swished into the dining room with a big smile on her face. Men lingered for dessert when a pretty woman served them with a cordial manner. That was why she’d hired Virginia—a pretty farmer’s daughter—over the more experienced older women who’d applied.
She caught Virginia’s eye across the room, and the waitress pointed to the table of men waiting for their dinners. Millie wended through the close tables, her skirts brushing the men’s chairs.
“Good stew, Charlotte,” one of them called.
She smiled. “Thank you kindly.”
“You can come cook for me anytime you get tired of this place,” another said as she passed.
“Thanks—I’ll keep it in mind.”
She reached the corner of the room and lowered the tray to the edge of the table, balancing it there while she set off the plates one at a time.
“Mmm, that looks downright edible, sweetheart,” one of the customers said.
“Enjoy it.” She smiled at them all without making eye contact with any of them. “Save room for some of my walnut cake.” She lowered the tray so that it was flat against her side and headed back toward the kitchen door.
“Millie?”
She whirled toward the familiar voice.
“Millie! Can’t believe I found ya!” Sam shoved back his chair and stood, blocking her way. “I shoulda known nobody could make such good biscuits but you.”
“Thank you. I’m working here now.” She glanced at the other two men sharing his table and didn’t like the look of them. Friends, or was Sam just sharing a table with strangers in a crowded restaurant? One had thick, dark hair and black eyes that raked over her. Had she seen him before? She looked away.
“Really?” Sam said. “You took a job? How long for?”
“I don’t know yet. I might stay here. I like it, and my boss is real happy to have me cooking for him.”
“Hey, Charlotte, how about some more gravy?” a man at a nearby table called.
Virginia sidled up to her. “I’ve got six more orders. You need to send this fella packing and get into the kitchen.”
Millie bristled. “Don’t tell me what to do, Virginia Shaw!” She looked back at Sam. “We close around nine o’clock. If you come back sober, I’ll talk to you then.”
Sam blinked at her guilelessly. “Sure, Millie. I can do that.”
“Millie?” Virginia asked, peering at her vulturelike.
Millie whirled and headed for the kitchen, squeezing between the tables and laughing at the men’s remarks.
Once in the kitchen, she stood for a moment breathing deeply. She hadn’t counted on meeting up with Sam again, at least not this soon. She’d only been here a few days and hadn’t really gotten herself established yet. As a good cook in high demand, she could earn a high wage here. She could be comfortable at the boardinghouse and put away a nest egg without having to do anything illegal. Andrew Willis would pay her well as long as she produced a lot of good food quickly.
Not only that, but when she’d taken Old Blue to the liveryman to see if he’d board her horse for her at a reasonable rate, he’d not only agreed at good terms, he’d done a little flirting with her. Millie had the feeling the pick of the men of Elkton was hers, if she wanted it, to say nothing of all the miners and freighters passing through.
But Sam didn’t fit into that plan. He’d come to her rescue a couple of months ago when she was down and out. Flat broke with no place to live, she was lower than the bottom of a mine shaft. She’d tracked him down at the farm where he worked and happened on a convenient circumstance. Sam’s boss was away and had let him live in the farmhouse and tend to things while he was gone. Sam had invited Millie to come and cook for him temporarily. She’d moved in and taken over the household, bullying her brother into doing whatever she wanted and taking advantage of David Stone’s supplies and the spending money he’d left Sam.
Now she felt a little guilty about that. Oh, it was far from the worst thing she’d ever done—and those things she felt even guiltier about. But she didn’t want to connect with Sam again for any length of time. It would be too easy to fall back into his lazy attitude and her thieving ways. That was what she’d been—a thief. No denying it. And she wanted to change, to become something better. She could see now that she’d have to take up an entirely different lifestyle to do that. Elkton offered her a chance, and she was determined to make a go of it.
“Hey, you better check them pies,” Stubby said.
As Millie shook herself out of her reverie and strode toward the stove, Virginia poked her head in at the door.
“Here’s my orders—got nine now. Six for stew, three for fried chicken.”
“Don’t know if I’ve got that much stew.”
“Better make more. They’re still coming in the door.”
Millie glanced at the clock on the shelf over the flour bin. “It’s after eight o’clock. Just tell ’em they’re too late and we’re out.”
Virginia screwed up her face like she’d been eating a sour pickle. “You got enough for these orders?”
Millie set a stack of soup plates on her worktable near the stove and started ladling stew into them. “Two, three, four…There’s only enough for four.”
“How much chicken?”
“Maybe six—your three and three more. After that we’re down to pie and gingerbread.”
Virginia trounced out the door without commenting on “Charlotte’s” other name.
Somehow Millie made it through the next hour. When she was done cooking and dishing up food, she helped Virginia serve coffee and pie. They both carried heaps of dirty dishes to Stubby. At nine she put the CLOSED sign on the door, and at last the dining room began to empty. Sam and the dark-haired man sat at their table long after they’d finished eating, drinking cup after cup of coffee. Millie wished they would leave. She busied herself in the kitchen, tidying up and setting out what she’d need to start cooking lunch tomorrow.
She’d drawn the line when Andrew urged her to cook breakfast, too. Two meals a day was plenty, she’d told him. He’d work her to death if she’d let him. She’d worked from ten to t
en the past two days, and she would soon be exhausted. As soon as Andrew returned, she’d have to sit down with him and thrash out some more favorable terms. And if he wanted to serve breakfast, he’d have to cook it himself or hire a morning cook.
Virginia hung up her apron, stretched, and said, “G’night. See you tomorrow.”
“Is my brother still out there?” Millie asked.
“Who?”
“The fellow who wanted to speak to me.”
“He’s your brother? I didn’t know. I tossed him out, along with the other stragglers. Sorry.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Millie said. “You about done, Stubby?”
“Almost.”
Millie picked up a dish towel and helped him dry the last rack of plates. At last he was ready to go, and she let him out the back door and locked it behind him. Then she took the money from the crock and put it in a cupboard with a lock. She got her coat, blew out the lanterns, went out the back door, and locked it behind her.
It was cold outside, and she pulled her coat closed. Walking around the corner of the building, she headed for the street and her boardinghouse. Two men detached themselves from the shadows at the front of the restaurant. Millie’s heart pounded, but she stood still, realizing that Sam and his companion had waited for her.
“You done for the night?”
“Yeah, Sam. Where you staying?”
“We’s camping down the creek.”
She eyed the shadowy form behind him, sure it was the dark-haired man who’d been at his table. “Who’s we?”
“Me and Lucky and a couple other fellas.” He jerked his head toward the other man, and suddenly Millie remembered where she’d seen Lucky before. He’d been a chum of her husband, James’s—one Millie hadn’t cared to get to know too well.
“You wanted to talk,” she said to Sam, ignoring Lucky. “You can’t come to the place I’m staying this late.”
“Can’t we talk here? I was hoping I could wait for you inside, but that Virginia girl said we had to leave.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I’m going with Lucky and the others. I want to know if you want to come with us.”
Millie frowned. “Come with you where?”
“We’re not sure yet, but Lucky thinks maybe over Fort Boise way.”
“What do you want to go there for?” Millie’s suspicions grew wings and began to fly.
“Looks like as good a place as any,” Lucky growled.
“And nobody knows us there,” Sam added.
“So?”
“Lucky thought your cooking was tops. He and the boys think it’d be terrific if you wanted to come see to us.”
“What does that mean, ‘see to you’? You want me to cook and clean house?”
“Well, we don’t have a house,” Sam said.
“Mighty good eats, ma’am,” Lucky said. “Your brother says you have other talents, too.”
“Other talents? What are you talking about?” She turned her fiercest glare on Sam.
“You know,” Sam said in soft, wheedling tones. “You’re slicker’n anyone I ever saw at liftin’ a wallet.”
She stared at him, then at his shadowy companion. “No.”
“Aw, come on, Millie. I told them about you, and they’re counting on you. We’ll need decent meals if we’re going to make our living as road agents.”
“Road—” She looked from Sam to Lucky and back. “No. Absolutely not. I’m done with crime, Sam. This is it right here for me. I’m staying here and working at the restaurant. I’m going to make an honest living. So forget it. And don’t come around here bothering me again.”
“Sounds like your sister needs a little persuasion.” Lucky pushed past Sam and stood less than a foot in front of her, holding her stare. “Me and the boys’ll take real good care of you, ma’am. That’s a promise.”
Millie ran her hand down her skirt until she could feel the comforting shape of the derringer she’d bought in Scottsburg. “No thank you, Mr. Lucky. That’s final.”
She was afraid he would insist, but Sam edged around him. “Come on, Millie. Please? We won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”
She strongly doubted that. “No, Sam.”
“Then at least give Old Blue back. The constable in Scottsburg said you took him.”
“Why should I?”
“Because Blue is my horse. And my stuff was tied to the saddle, too.”
Millie almost protested, but the guilt that had plagued her for the last few days won out. If they got down to brass tacks, Old Blue belonged to David Stone. Did she want to start her new life with a stolen horse?
“What are you riding?”
“That horse you had—the plug of a brown mare.”
Fair enough, Millie decided. She’d paid the asking price for the mare, and that was money she’d earned. Vixen wasn’t as good a mount as Old Blue, but Millie didn’t plan on fleeing the authorities again anytime soon.
“All right, I’ll take Vixen back.”
“What? You named your horse?”
“Oh, be quiet, Sam. Where is she?”
“Yonder.” He jerked his head toward the hitching rail in front of the restaurant.
Millie sighed. “Wait here and I’ll go get Blue for you.”
“We might as well come with you,” Lucky said, low and definite. Millie had a feeling not many people said no to Lucky.
She took a deep breath. “No. Stay right here. The lady I’m rooming with doesn’t want to see any men hanging around. Sam, you wait here if you want to trade.”
She walked out to the street and looked back. The two men were nearly invisible in the shadow of the building. At least they’d stayed put. She wouldn’t trust that Lucky from here to the porch pillar. Above her, the sky was clear for once. The stars glittered like tiny lamps, lighting her way to the boardinghouse. Instead of going in, she walked around to the barn and went inside. Blue and the horse that belonged to the couple that owned the place whickered. Millie went to Blue’s stall and patted his nose.
“I’m sorry, boy, but I’ve got to give you back to Sam. You were good for me.” She put the saddle on him with Sam’s bedroll still tied to it, bridled him, and led him out of the barn.
She had the assurance that this was right. She was giving the stolen horse back to Sam. From now on, settling Blue’s ownership would be between him and David. Maybe if she started doing small good things, she could eventually become a good person. In fact, she would put a dollar out of her pay in Andrew’s crock. If she did that every week for five weeks, she’d have paid back the pie money she took from him the first time she’d worked for him, and he would never notice. That would add to the “good” side of her behavior ledger. And she would read some more in the Bible tonight. What could be more virtuous than that?
She ignored the little guilt gnome that tugged at her sleeve to remind her that the Bible was stolen, too.
Back at the restaurant, Lucky and Sam emerged from the shadows. Sam untied Vixen and walked toward her. Before she could say anything, Lucky stepped up beside Sam.
“Your brother and I talked it over, ma’am, and we think you need to come with us.”
CHAPTER 24
Millie’s heart sank and hit bottom. “He’s my half brother, and it doesn’t matter what you think. I’m staying here.”
Lucky’s hand snaked to his hip, and he drew his revolver so fast she barely had time to shove her hand in her pocket.
“Mount up, Millie.” His voice had a steel edge now. Sam hung back, looking worried but saying nothing.
Millie’s pulse raced. “Give me Vixen,” she said to Sam.
He moved forward and held out the ends of the mare’s reins. She put Blue’s leathers in his other hand, at the same time pulling out her derringer.
She whirled on Lucky, who stood only five feet away.
“I’m pretty good with this little peashooter, mister. If you still want your friends to call you ‘Lucky’ af
ter tonight, you’d best mount up and ride out of here.”
His eyes narrowed. Sam gasped, but Millie didn’t spare him a glance, knowing Lucky could get the upper hand quickly if she let anything distract her. They stood for a moment glaring at each other over their guns’ muzzles.
Lucky laughed softly. “She’s a hard one, all right, Sam. Who’d have thought it to look at her? All right, Miss Millie, you win this round, but I won’t forget it.”
“Neither will I,” she said.
Sam gulped and held out the mare’s reins. “If you ever need a friend, Millie, come find me. And we’d still like to have you cook for us.”
“Don’t count on it.” She took Vixen’s bridle and turned the mare to shield her from Lucky’s view as she led her away. After a few steps she heard their horses moving and looked back. Both men were mounting. She hustled Vixen along to the corner and got off the main road before they passed.
After two days of bed rest, David seemed stronger. Anne had hardly left the suite, sitting with her uncle’s pistol in her lap whenever Dan went out. The cook, Ernie, came every day to see how David was doing, and Dr. Muller came at least once a day to examine his wound and monitor his progress. Whitey, seeing no benefit to wandering about town when he had no money to spend, had left them to hike back to his claim.
On the third day, David awoke grumpy.
“How long do you expect me to lie in bed?” he asked Anne. “Bring me some clothes. I want to get up and go down to breakfast with you.”
Anne rose and went to his dresser, where she’d put the clothing she’d unpacked after they’d realized he couldn’t travel. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for two flights of stairs, but perhaps we can have our breakfast at the table in the next room.”
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 58
