Mail Order Minx: Fountain of Love (Brides of Beckham) (6 page)

Chapter Six

When Connor woke her the following morning, she was certain she'd never be able to get out of bed and start working.  She just didn't have it in her.  Her feet hurt, and her back hurt, and she felt like she'd never be able to move again.  She took one look at his face, though, and knew she couldn't disappoint him again.  She had no desire to let him down the way she already had.  She needed to do everything she could to prove to him that she could make it work.

She crawled from the bed, feeling like death warmed over, but did her best to hide it from him.  "I'm going to make breakfast this morning," she announced, "and I'm going to do it right!"  She felt as grumpy as she always did first thing in the morning, but she did her best to hide it.

He grinned, kissing her softly.  "That's my girl.  I know you can!"

They went down the stairs and into the kitchen of the restaurant, and she immediately went into the cold room for the eggs and bacon while he started the fire in the stove and then started to mix up the dough for bread.  She carefully heated the pan and then added the bacon, before she mixed the eggs.  This time she managed to break the eggs without getting a single shell in them.  She added the milk and mixed it, then turned the bacon. 

She added the salt and pepper to the egg mixture and mixed it a little more before removing the bacon from the stove.  She carefully poured the eggs into the frying pan and stirred them the same way she had the previous morning.  They looked like they were right.  She prayed they tasted good.

She plated both of their meals and poured out their coffee carrying it to the table.  He prayed for them, and she watched as he took his first bite of eggs.  He smiled and nodded at her.  "These are delicious."  He could tell she was anxious and was thrilled to be able to truthfully compliment her cooking.

She breathed a sigh of relief.  "Thank you!"  She took a bite and smiled.  He hadn't lied.  She'd actually done it right.  "I made a whole meal by myself."
  Yes, she knew it was a simple meal, because it was the first one that Berta tried to teach her to cook, but she didn't care.  A meal was a meal, and she'd done it right.

"It's quite an accomplishment."  He squeezed her hand in his.  "I'm glad you were the one to come out here and marry me."  He realized that was the truth.  She
had lied about something that he'd considered extremely important, but she was a hard worker and willing to learn, and that was the most important thing.

"Me too. 
I appreciate the man you are.  I don't know of any other who would have been all right with the lie that I told."  She took a sip of her coffee.  "Back in Beckham, the lie seemed like nothing.  I thought, 'Oh, he won't mind.  He's getting a wife after all.' Berta tried to teach me to cook before I left, but I only had one day to try to learn, and honestly?  I didn't think you'd care that much."  She looked down at her lap as she said the words, knowing they would bother him, but needing to tell him everything.

He frowned.  "I care more about the lie than your inability to cook.  I understand that you didn't feel it was important, and I'm not angry with you, but I do ask that you don't lie again." 
He watched her carefully, wondering how she'd respond.

She shook her head.  "Having the lie come out the way it did was mortifying.  I learned my lesson."
  She would never lie to him again.  She couldn't keep hurting him that way.

He had been thinking hard about what they could do to change things, so that life wouldn't be so hard on her here, and he had an idea, but he wasn't going to bring it up just yet.  When she got what she needed to do down, then they'd talk about it.

*****

For Millie, all the days blended together.  She worked from the time she woke in the morning until she went to bed at night, with little respite.  The only day that was different was Sunday, and it was only different because they had to get up a little earlier to open the restaurant a little later.  She felt like she was constantly cooking, but she learned, and she learned well.  By her third Monday of marriage, she was able to do all the regular cooking on her own, while Connor did the baking.

She was so proud of herself for her accomplishments that she was all but dancing.  She not only cooked all the meals that day, but she also served every single customer.  Connor watched her carefully, nodding his encouragement.

At the end of the day, while they were eating their supper, he told her his idea.  "I think we should start having the restaurant only open for the lunch rush."
  He knew she hated the long hours, and he expected her to be excited.

She stared at him in surprise.  "But I finally learned that I can do it!"
  Did he think she couldn't handle the fast pace of running a restaurant?

He nodded.  "You can do it.  Here's my thinking on the matter, though.  I didn't mind working fourteen hour days when I was a single man, but now that I'm married, I want more time with my wife, and I don't want to see my wife work herself into an early grave.  I know many women work those hours, but I don't want you to have to."
  He thought about her father never allowing her to work, and how as soon as he married her, she was forced to do nothing but work.

She nodded, before asking, "But don't we need the money from the dinner hour?"
  How would they make it with the big loss of income?  He was right and well over half of their income from the restaurant was made at lunch time, but surely they needed the supper income as well.  Especially if they were going to get a house together someday.

He shook his head.  "Not with my idea.  One fourth of our income comes from the hotel.  That will remain steady regardless.  Three fourths of what's left of the income comes from our lunch rush.  That's very little money that's coming in from supper time.  I think we should close during supper, and instead, I will start baking and selling my baked goods.  We'll work from six in the morning until three in the afternoon, instead of from six in the morning until
eight or nine at night.  We'll still put in a good day's work.  The bakery should more than make up for the lost income from closing at supper time, and should even bring in more money."

She thought about his suggestion for a moment.  "When would you want to start this?"
  She liked the idea of working shorter days.  She would do what was necessary, but having more time with her husband would certainly be a welcome change.

"Well, I think one more week of this, but we'll post on the door that the new hours will start on Monday of next week.  We'll also post about the baked goods starting Monday of next week.  People are always asking to buy my pies, and we never have enough.  That way I could do custom cakes as well."
  He grinned, liking the idea of being able to use his creativity on cakes. 

"I like the idea.  In fact, I love it."  She took his hand across the small table.  "My favorite part is getting to spend extra time with my husband."
  She wound her fingers through his, smiling at him as their eyes met.

He brought her hand to his lips.  "I like that part too."

He wrote up a sign that they put on the front door, letting people know of the new hours and the bakery hours.  Most people who talked to them were very excited about it, and they started making a list of the types of baked goods people in the town wanted. 

Through it all, Millie constantly worried that Connor wished it had been Berta to come to him instead of her.  Oh, she knew he enjoyed their time in bed together, but he'd have enjoyed time there with Berta as well.  And Berta would have been a great deal better in the kitchen.

She knew she needed to do something to show him how good she was at helping people, and that she wasn't inferior to Berta.  She wasn't even inferior to the perfect Berta who lived in his head.

It was while she was in the lobby of the hotel one evening that it came to her.  Poor Widow Sanders had two small children, and her husband had been killed by someone trying to steal their land just a few months before.  She sat one evening and talked to the widow for hours, working the details of her plan out in her mind.  "Will you come to lunch at the restaurant tomorrow?" she asked.  "Come around two, and I'll feed the children in the kitchen so you can have a nice quiet meal for a change.
" 

John Bennett was there just before two every afternoon for his lunch, and Millie was convinced he and Widow Sanders would be perfect for one another.  John wanted a wife.  Widow Sanders needed a husband and father for her children.   Her boys were five and seven, and they were the wildest
, most out of control boys Millie had ever seen.  Of course, she thought of John Bennett when she looked at them.

"Yes," Mary Sanders responded, nodding.  "I'd be happy to do that." 
She seemed pleased at the invitation.

Millie thought the other woman looked terribly tired all the time, and she wanted to help her, so she decided to make her a project.

It would work out perfectly, just like all her plans did.  Look how her plan to come to Idaho and marry him had worked out.  She'd done well.  She was happy to have found a way to show Connor that he'd been right to marry her.  He would sing her praises once she found a good husband for the sweet widow.

Chapter Six

Connor asked why
Millie was watching the Sanders children that afternoon, but didn't have a problem with it even though he never got a straight answer.  When she fed them chicken and dumplings, and the boys actually stayed put instead of tearing up his kitchen, he really didn't mind.  When he'd first seen her bring them into the kitchen, he'd been skeptical about whether they'd sit still and behave.

She served their two guests at the same table, waiting for them to strike up a conversation and become friends.  She was certain the two would be engaged before dessert and married before the day was out, and then everyone would be singing her praises.  It didn't quite work out as she'd planned, though.

By dessert the two were standing up and yelling at one another.  It seemed that John thought that now she had no husband, Mary Sanders should sell him her ranch for pennies on the dollar so he could add it to his own sprawling acres.  Mary, for her part, thought that John should stay on his land and her land should be left for her boys. 

When Millie carried their dessert into the dining room, she quickly put the pie down and rushed between them.  "Oh, no, you mustn't fight!  Don't you see?  You two would be perfect for each other.  John needs a wife, and you need a husband and father for your sweet boys."
  Millie hated to have to point out how brilliant her plan was to them.  Why hadn't they seen it on their own?

"Sweet boys?" John bellowed.  "Those two think throwing rocks at old women on their way to church is a good way to pass a Sunday morning.  They're hellions and need to be beaten!"

"Don't you call my boys names, John Bennett!  I seem to recall you playing terrible pranks on everyone when you were a boy."

"That doesn't mean that I don't now see that it wasn't the right thing to do!  Those boys need to be taken in hand, Mary!  They're awful!"

Mary stomped as hard as she could on John's foot, before rushing to the kitchen to collect her boys.  She wouldn't even look at Millie as she ran out the door and hurried back to the hotel dragging a boy with each hand.

John threw money onto the table to pay for his meal before stomping out the door, for once not trying to talk Millie into running away with him. 

Millie frowned as she was left alone in the dining room.  That hadn't gone well, but it was because the people involved hadn't cooperated.  She'd find some other way to show Connor that she was worthy of his love.  There were any number of things she could do to impress him.  She'd just have to stay on the lookout.

Millie was in the mercantile the following afternoon, looking for fabrics, which were on the bottom shelf along the back wall.  A young mother did her best to reach one of the
jars of canned goods on the top shelf, but she couldn't get to it, so Millie got it down for her.  She ended up getting down four jars for the younger woman.  "Thank you so much!  I wish he wouldn't put so many of the things I need up so high."

As the other woman left, Millie looked at the wall.  It did seem rather strange to her that the food would be up so high, but the fabric would be on the bottom.  She didn't think twice about helping the store owner as she rearranged the shelves.  She didn't know why no one ever arranged things in a logical manner.
  It only made sense that the things that people needed the most would be lower.  She didn't care if she didn't get thanks for what she did.  She simply wanted to help people.

When she was finished, she took her purchases to the front and paid for them with a smile, knowing the proprietor would be thrilled with her work when he had a chance to notice it.  He would surely see the logic of what she'd done.

Just as she was leaving the store, she heard a loud crash and looked to the back.  A child was standing with a broken jar scattered on the floor around him.  Millie shook her head, hoping his mother would keep a better eye on him in the future.  What kind of parent let their child run amok that way?

She walked into the park
and walked over to sit on the bench in front of the fountain.  One of the ladies that she'd gotten to know since she'd been in town, Lilah, approached her and sat down beside her.  "How do you like Gullet Gulch?"

Millie smiled and nodded happily.  "I love it here.  I think it's a beautiful place.  I feel like I belong here already."
  She stretched her feet out in front of her, carefully keeping her ankles crossed.  The sun felt good on her face.  It was mid-September, and it was already starting to get cooler.

"I'm glad.  I was a little worried you would feel like you didn't fit in, what with you being a substitute bride and all.  Do you ever hear from you friend Berta? That was the name of the woman who was
supposed
to marry Connor, right?"

Millie gritted her teeth.  "Yes, that was her name.  We write every week.  She was my very best friend back home, you know.  She's expecting her first."
  She was pleased to see the other woman's reaction to her words.

Lilah
looked shocked.  "Already expecting?  How can that be?"

Millie smiled.  "I've been here a month, and she married over two weeks before I arrived.  Plenty of time for her to be carrying."
  Millie didn't really know if her friend was carrying, but Berta had hinted that she thought she might be.

Lilah
frowned.  "But why did you have to lock her in a closet and steal her train ticket if she was already married?"

"Lock her in a closet and steal her train ticket?  What makes you think I did that?"
  Why would someone think she would do such a thing?  She'd never done anything that bad in her life.

Lilah
shook her head.  "That's just what I heard."

"Well, it wasn't true.  Not at all.  She married someone else and decided not to come, so I decided to take her place."
  Millie couldn't believe people were spreading rumors about her.  Why, she'd thought everyone in town loved her up until that very moment.

"Even though you didn't know how to cook."

Millie looked at Lilah suspiciously.  "How did you know that I didn't know how to cook?"  She knew Connor wouldn't have told anyone that she couldn't cook.  He just wasn't like that.

Lilah
shrugged.  "Well, you weren't supposed to be waiting tables, you were supposed to be cooking.  When you started out waiting tables, we all knew you couldn't cook.  Poor Connor.  He sure got the short end of that stick, didn't he?"

Millie stood, her back to the other woman.  "I have a lot of positive attributes,
Lilah.  Perhaps if you weren't looking for only the negative you'd find one or two."  She worked hard to keep her temper in check as she walked.  Why did the other woman think so little of her?  She was a good person, and she couldn't imagine why anyone would think otherwise.

She walked back to the hotel with her head held high.  Why on earth had that woman chosen to say such terrible things to her?  Millie had been nothing but loving and helpful since she'd arrived. 

Millie walked into the hotel lobby to find a sweet elderly gentleman sitting on a sofa along one wall waiting for someone.  She immediately sat next to him.  "How are you today?  Is there anything I can get you while you wait?"  She patted his hand as she spoke to him.

The man shook his head sadly.  "Nothing anyone can get me anymore I don't reckon.  My wife is gone."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that."  She patted his hand softly.  "How did she die?"  Millie's heart ached for the sweet man.  She couldn't imagine how her life would be if she ever lost Connor.  He was her rock.

"Now, I don't recall saying she was dead.  I said she's gone.  She went out East on the last train to live with our daughter, Pamela.  Said she couldn't stand to look at me or smell me for another minute."

Millie forced herself not to wrinkle her nose at the man's words.  He did smell rather...ripe.  "You can't go to her?"  Why if Connor left her that way, she'd be on the first train chasing him down.

The man shook his head forlornly.  "I don't have no money to go with her.  She took the last of the money we had."

"Oh, that's terrible."  Millie dug some money out of the small drawstring purse that was attached to her wrist, pressing it into the man's hand.  "Why don't you follow your wife out East and see your daughter.  Do you have grandchildren?"  She loved the idea of helping the sweet old man.  Besides, she was certain the smell of the town could only be improved by his departure.

"No
, ma'am."  The man's eyes were sparkling as he smiled at her.  "Thank you so much for your help."

"I'm so happy I could be of assistance," she told him.
  She was thrilled she'd done something nice for someone.  She couldn't wait until Connor heard about it.  Then he'd know she was the perfect wife for him.

That night, just as they climbed into bed together, they heard gunshots from the street, followed by a bawdy song.  The voice sounded like that of the old man she'd helped earlier, but that just couldn't be.  He was resting up for his journey East, wasn't he?

Connor pulled her against him, her head on his shoulder.  He sighed.  "Who gave that old drunk money?"

Millie propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at her husband.  "Old drunk?  What do you mean?"
  The sweet old man from earlier couldn't possibly have been a drunk.  She'd have known, wouldn't she?

"Have you not met old Pappy Cromwell yet?  He's been trying to drink himself into an early grave since his wife left him fifteen years ago.  Mostly he just sits around town and looks sad, but occasionally, he'll talk someone from the train into giving him money with some sob story about how he needs to follow his wife back East."  He shook his head.  "I wonder who it was this time."

Millie didn't answer, her heart sinking.  She'd meant well with Pappy.  She really had.  Sometimes, though, it seemed like every time she meant well, she messed things up.  Today was just one of those days she guessed.  She'd find a way to make him love her tomorrow.  She knew there was something she could do that would make him realize she was the perfect wife for him.

Connor held her close, so thankful that she'd been the one to
travel west to be his bride.  There wasn't a woman who could be better for him on this whole planet.  He wasn't happy that she'd lied to start with, but he could see that they would be happy for the rest of their lives.  Someday soon, he was going to build her a house on the edge of town, and they'd live in it happily.

He hadn't been able to propose marriage in a special way, but he would find a good way to tell her he loved her.  Someday soon, he'd take her on a picnic up into the mountains and tell her.  She was sweet and special, and she deserved it.  For a substitute wife, she was something really special.

Millie fell asleep wondering how she'd convince him that she was worthy.  There had to be something special she could do to make the whole town see that she wasn't just a substitute wife.  She was the real thing. 

She kissed his bare shoulder as she snuggled against him, happy to have him beside her.  She couldn't let him send her back to Massachusetts.  There had to be a way she could prove to him that she was worthy of staying.

*****

Millie was working on preparing the food for the restaurant to open the following morning when the owner of the mercantile, the pastor, and a couple of the other men from town came into the kitchen.  She wiped her hands on her apron and hurried over to where they were.  "May I help you gentlemen?" she asked, her voice more than a little nervous.

The pastor shook his head slightly, looking at Connor.  "It's you we need to speak with if we may, Connor."

Connor looked down at his hands, covered in dough.  "Let me just wash my hands.  I'll be out in a moment."  He washed his hands and left the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him.

Millie knew it was rude, but she went over to listen at the door.  She needed to know what the men wanted to talk to Connor about.  She was his wife, and they shouldn't have any secrets from one another anyway.  She stood with her ear to the door and listened. 

She could hear the pastor's voice loud and clear.  "You've got to do something about your wife, Connor."

Millie was startled.  She'd thought maybe they'd come to tell Connor about the good she'd been doing around town, but apparently that wasn't the case.  She frowned as she listened. 

The mercantile owner complained about her rearranging his shelf.  "I don't know what came over her.  Everything was arranged perfectly, and the next thing I knew, she'd moved all the jars of canned goods to the bottom shelf, and before I had time to put everything back where it goes, little Timmy Jacobs had broken six jars of vegetables on the floor.  We're lucky the poor tyke didn't seriously injure himself."

Millie bristled.  She'd only been helping.  It was the Timmy's mother's fault for not watching him.  Why didn't they see that?

"I'm sure she was just trying to help," Connor said in her defense, and Millie smiled, glad that someone was on her side.

"Do you think she was trying to help when she showed the Larson boys how to use a slingshot properly?  They shot out two of the stained glass windows on the church," the pastor complained.