Mail Order Minx

Book Twelve in the Brides of Beckham

By Kirsten Osbourne

Copyright 2014 Kirsten Osbourne

Kindle Edition, License Notes

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When Millie's friend, Berta, elopes instead of fulfilling her obligations to be a mail order bride, she decides to take her friend's place and be the best mail order bride a man has ever seen.  Of course, she can't exactly cook, and she enjoys meddling in other people's lives under the guise of "helping them," but surely, her future husband won't mind that.

Connor waits excitedly for his Berta to get off the train in Idaho, knowing that she is the answer to his prayers.  She's an excellent cook and a hard worker, just what he needs for his restaurant.  He's confused when Millie gets off the train in her place, but he accepts the switch good-naturedly.  His bride has married someone else, after all.  What could possibly go wrong? 

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Chapter One

Mildred looked at Berta and shook her head.  "What are you going to do?  You sent a letter to Connor in Idaho.  What are you going to do when he mails your train ticket?"  She couldn't believe her friend was going to just not show up for the man who was supposed to be her husband. 

Millie had gone with Berta to a mail order bride agency over a month before, but Berta had since changed her mind.  Millie was unsure how anyone could do something so selfish, but Berta seemed to think that her happiness was the only thing that was important at all.

Berta shrugged.  "I have no idea what to do.  How was I supposed to know Harvey would come back and want to marry me?"  She raised her hands palm up as if to say she had no choice in the decision she made. 

Millie couldn't believe how selfish her friend was being.  Poor Connor O'Reilly had sent off for a mail order bride, and he should by God have a mail order bride coming to him.  "Let's go talk to Elizabeth Miller.  Maybe there's time to send him a letter before he sends out your train tickets."  She would do whatever she could to make up for her friend's error.  She didn't know why, but she'd always felt she should right the wrongs of others.  She was good at it, and she hated knowing people were upset with one another.

Berta nodded.  "All right, but I have to be home by four.  I need to have time to cook Harvey a good supper before he gets home from work."  Harvey, Berta's new husband, worked at the hotel Millie's father owned. 

Millie thought about everything she knew about Connor O'Reilly, her heart hurting for him.  He was an Irish immigrant who had lived in Idaho for five years.  He'd worked hard and started his own hotel and restaurant.  His letter requested a wife who knew how to cook well so she could help with the restaurant.  She couldn't get the poor man out of her mind as they walked toward Elizabeth's home.

Berta could not stop talking about Harvey.  "He's so caring and considerate.  Why just last night he took off his shoes so he wouldn't trample any more mud on my freshly washed floors.  He tried to keep me from having a lot of work."  Her voice was filled with love as she talked about the husband she thought was absolutely perfect.

Millie shook her head, noting that Berta hadn't said he'd cleaned up the floors he'd already tracked mud on.  She'd never been a big fan of Harvey's, but her friend already knew that, and she wasn't going to start a fight by saying anything.  Berta's biggest shortcoming, to Millie's way of thinking, was her blind spot where Harvey Land was concerned.

They finally reached Elizabeth's house, and Berta gripped Milie's hand tightly, obviously nervous about telling Elizabeth what she'd done.

A blond man came to the door, just as he had every other time they'd come.  He let them in and led them through the house to Elizabeth, who was sitting at her desk.  He cleared his throat, and she turned smiling.  "Oh, Berta!  I was just about to come see you."  She nodded to Mildred who had come with her on her previous visit.  "Your letter came today."  She looked to the butler.  "Tea and cookies, Bernard?"

Bernard nodded, and closed the door behind him as he left.  Once he had, Elizabeth turned to Berta with a smile, handing her a letter.  Berta stared down at it as if she were afraid it would burn her.  She looked at Millie imploringly, as if she were trying to get her to do her talking for her.

Millie sighed.  "She eloped last week.  It was all I could do to drag her here to tell you today.  I hoped we could get a letter to him before he spent the money on a train ticket."  She was annoyed that Berta wouldn't even talk about what had happened herself, and instead, Millie had to explain it all.  Why wasn't her friend more responsible?

Elizabeth's face fell.  "Do you know this has never happened to me?  I'm not sure what to do."

Millie took the letter and opened it.  "Well, hopefully he said he didn't want her to come and that you need to keep looking."  She read the letter quickly as a train ticket fell into her lap.  "Dear Berta, You sound like the woman I've been waiting my entire life for.  I can't wait to have you here with me so we can build our lives together.  I've enclosed a train ticket that will leave Beckham on Monday and you'll arrive here in Idaho approximately ten days later.  I know it will be a long trip, but I'll be waiting for you at the train station.  I am tall with red hair.  I can't wait to see you.  Adoringly, Connor."

She read the letter once more before setting it down carefully.  "Your train leaves Monday."  She sighed.  "Now what do we do?"  Millie looked between Elizabeth and Berta, hoping one of them would come up with a viable solution, but they both simply stared back at her.

Elizabeth looked back and forth between the two women.  "Can you cook?" she asked, looking at Millie. 

Millie frowned.  Was Elizabeth suggesting she go in her friend's place?  She'd always lived in a home where servants took care of all of her needs.  She'd tried to cook once or twice, but always with the family's cook standing over her.  She could probably do it though.  It was just following a bunch of recipes, wasn't it?  Besides, she needed an adventure.

"I enjoy cooking," Millie said.  It wasn't exactly a lie.  She'd enjoyed it the few times she'd done it.

"Would you consider...?"  Elizabeth couldn't even finish the sentence.

Slowly Millie nodded.  "I think that's a good idea.  He'll get a wife, and I'll go out West.  I always thought I'd do better there than here anyway."  From what she'd heard, people in the West appreciated strong women, and Millie was strong.  She knew she was able to do a lot to help others, and she was determined to make a difference.  Out West was where she belonged. She just knew it.

Berta looked at Millie in shock.  "You can't go!" 

Millie frowned at Berta.  "We promised the man a wife.  He paid a lot of money for that train ticket, and he deserves a wife."  She tried to keep the anger at her friend out of her voice.  She knew she was being unreasonable, but how could Berta not fulfill her promise?  What was wrong with her?

"Your parents will never let you go!"

Millie just shrugged.  Her parents had always let her do pretty much whatever she'd wanted to do.  "They'll be fine."  If they weren't fine with it right away, she'd talk them into it.  It wasn't like she would be marrying a man who was wanted by the law.  He was an upstanding citizen who happened to own a hotel and restaurant.  Her father couldn't help but approve.

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.  "Can you be ready to go in three days?"

"I don't see why not.  I have everything I could possibly need.  It's just a matter of packing a few things."  Once her mind was made up, Millie wasn't one to waste time.  She'd go home and pack her things straight away.  She was off for an adventure that would serve two purposes--making up for her friend's betrayal and getting out of Beckham.

"I'll meet you at the train station on Monday then to see you off.  What time does your train leave?"

Millie looked at the ticket.  "Noon."  Unlike many young women her age, Millie had taken trains many times.  Her family had traveled a great deal. 

Bernard came in then with a tray laden with tea and cookies.  They sat and drank the tea, talking about what they knew about Idaho, which wasn't very much.  "I know they're trying to get statehood, but so far they haven't managed it," Berta said with a frown.  For some reason, Berta had thought it was a great adventure when she was going, but now that it was Millie going to marry Connor, it was a frightening prospect.

Millie took a sip of her tea.  "I'm certain it's just a matter of time.  I mean, everyone around them is being granted statehood."  Millie wasn't worried.  She needed the change, needed the adventure.  Her life was about to change, and she would do nothing to stop it.

Elizabeth looked between the two women.  "Are your parents going to be upset about this?"

"Oh no," Millie responded.  "They have my three younger sisters.  They say I'm the most troublesome of the lot anyway."  She shrugged.  "My father always calls me his little minx." She knew she was exaggerating a bit, but her parents usually let her do whatever she wanted to do.  She smiled as she thought about spending long days with her husband, walking hand in hand with him.  Her life would be good.  She wouldn't settle for anything less.

*****

Millie waited until after dinner that evening to broach the subject of leaving with her parents.  Her sisters had gone upstairs to play and she cornered her parents in the parlor where her father was reading a newspaper and her mother was knitting.  It was their usual way to spend an evening together.  Neither of them would speak at all unless one of their daughters came into the room.

Her mother looked up at her.  "May I talk to you both?" Millie asked politely, taking the spot beside her mother on the sofa against one wall of the room.  Her father sat in an arm chair perpendicular to the sofa.  Millie sat between them both.

"What do you need?" her father asked, his voice harsh, but it didn't bother Millie.  That was just his way.

"I've agreed to move out West as a mail order bride," Millie told them, preferring to get hard tasks over with quickly. She sat quietly looking from her father to her mother to see who would speak first.  Probably her mother, because she tended to get more upset over Millie's schemes than her father did.

Her mother gaped at her.  "A mail order bride?  You can't just leave to be a mail order bride."

"I'll be going to Idaho Territory to marry a man who owns a hotel and restaurant.  His name is Connor."  Millie continued speaking as if her mother had never said anything, knowing that if her father agreed, her mother would agree.  It was how their marriage worked.

Mr. Barrington carefully folded his paper and put it on the coffee table in front of him, watching his eldest daughter carefully.  She'd never shown much interest in marriage, although she'd attended all the parties they'd insisted she attend.  "Why?" he asked.

Millie took a deep breath, knowing that her answer to this question would be the only thing he would take into consideration.  "I've read a lot of books about the West, and I find it fascinating.  There are no men here that I'm interested in, and I'm already twenty-two years old.  It's time I marry, as you've told me many times.  This opportunity has presented itself, and I think it's time I do the adult thing and forge my own destiny."  She deliberately left out the part about it being Berta who had actually answered the letter. 

Her father looked at her as if he were trying to discern whether she was lying by the look on her face.  "Are you certain that's what you want?" he asked.

She nodded, not at all certain, but knowing she needed to make a change.  There was a restlessness inside her that couldn't be addressed while she lived here with her family.  She needed this with everything inside her, and she was suddenly thankful to Berta for backing out of the marriage and giving her this opportunity.  "Yes, Father.  It's not only what I want.  It's what I need."

Nothing was said for well over a minute while her father thought about his decision.  She'd had enough experience with him that she knew he was trying to decide what he should say, so she remained silent, knowing speaking to him further about it would only delay his decision. 

Finally he gave a brief nod.  "When will you leave?"  His words gave Millie permission to carry out her plans, and she knew it.  She felt her mother tense up beside her, but she knew that the hard part was over.  If her father agreed, then she could go.  It was as simple as that.

Millie let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.  "I have a train ticket leaving out of Beckham at noon on Monday." 

"You'll need to have everything ready before then, and that's going to be a chore."  He picked his newspaper up again and began reading, although he lowered it after a moment.  "Just remember you have a home to come back to if things don't work out with your Connor."

"Thank you, Father."  Millie could see by the look on her mother's face that she didn't approve of her father's decision, but as usual, she didn't argue with him.  She never had, and she never would.  As far as Sylvia Barrington was concerned, a man's home was his castle and his wife was his to command.  It was a philosophy that she hadn't been able to pass on to her headstrong eldest daughter.

Millie stood and walked toward the doorway.  "I'll go upstairs and start sorting through my things now."  She practically skipped from the room as she rushed up the stairs to start packing.  She was really going to move to Idaho and marry a total stranger.  Why was she so excited at the prospect?

As she walked toward the stairs, Millie heard, "Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Gus?"

"Don't worry about her, Sylvia.  She'll come home if there are any problems.  Our little minx can take care of herself." 

Millie smiled at the words of praise and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She loved it when her father called her his minx.  She didn't know why the word felt like such an endearment to her, but it did. She entered the room she shared with her sister, Carrie, and told her quickly what she'd done.  "Will you help me pack?"

Carrie stared at her sister in awe.  "You've lost your mind, Millie."

Millie shrugged.  "I've been feeling like I needed to do something crazy for a long time.  This may be just what I need."  She stood up and got two large carpet bags out from under the bed she shared with Carrie.  "I need to decide what to take and what to leave.  I won't have room for all of my clothes, and I doubt if Father would agree to ship them all."  Millie ignored her sister's shocked looked and set about accomplishing her task.  If she had help, that would be wonderful.  If not?  She'd do it herself.  She was determined.

Carrie got to her feet and helped, and the two of them worked well into the night.  It was Friday, and they only had two days to get her ready.  Millie was a little nervous but very excited.  She was going to get married.

*****

Millie spent all day Saturday at Berta's house having her friend give her some very basic cooking lessons.  Berta kept shaking her head.  "He's not going to be happy when he realizes you can't even fry an egg," she finally said after hours of working with Millie who had yet to fry an egg without leaving a huge piece of shell in with the egg.

Millie shrugged.  "I'll be a good wife in other ways."  She couldn't imagine the man actually getting angry with her for not being able to cook.  What kind of husband would do such a thing?  "Do you really think he'll care?"  How could any man look at her and say she wasn't good enough for what he needed.  She had always had boys surrounding her trying to catch her attention.  Surely Connor would be like all the others.  When he realized how good she was at helping people, he'd forgive her for not being able to cook.

Berta looked at Millie in disbelief.  "He wants someone who can cook for his restaurant.  Of course, he'll care."

"I'm taking recipes with me.  I'll figure them out."  Millie refused to be concerned about it.  She was a pretty woman, and many men had been interested in her.  Besides, they could always hire someone to cook.

*****

Connor O'Reilly was getting more excited every day.  His new wife would be there in less than two weeks.  He flipped the sign in the restaurant from open to closed and went through the lobby of the hotel to climb the stairs to his room.  Someday he'd have the money to buy a home and not have to live in one of the rooms in the hotel, but that day was not today. 

He looked forward to Berta's arrival.  It would be easier with someone else to share the cooking burden with him.  Finding front desk help had always been easy.  Finding a cook had eluded him.  He smiled as he thought about the bride he was waiting for.  He didn't care about beauty.  What he cared about more than anything was having a sweet wife who could cook. 

He needed a woman who would be biddable, do as she was told, and be willing to work as much as possible.  Was that too much to ask?

Sweet Berta sounded like all those things were just what she was looking for, so he was looking forward to finally meeting her.  He looked around the tiny room he lived in.  He left the nicer rooms for the paying customers, who he could charge a little more for the nice room.  He and Berta would take the tiny room.  The bed was big enough for two.  That and the dresser were all they really needed.  They would share the bathroom down the hall with the hotel's other guests and be thankful they had one.

When his sweet bride, finally arrived, he would celebrate like no man had ever celebrated.  He had a wedding planned for the afternoon of her arrival, and he'd even arranged to close down the restaurant for a day.  To take a full day off was a true celebration.  He hoped his Berta was suitably grateful. 

He sighed, climbing into bed fully clothed and lying on his back with his hands folded behind his head.  What more could a man ask for in life?  A good business that he owned, a good wife, and someday beautiful children. Yes, he'd done the right thing by sending off for a bride, and he didn't care what anyone thought of it.

Chapter Two

Millie went to the train station a half hour early on Monday, knowing that Elizabeth would be meeting her there.  Her mother had offered to go with her, but she'd said her goodbyes at the house, knowing she would rather break free.  She didn't know what was wrong with her because she had a good life, but for months, all she'd been able to think about was leaving and never returning.

She looked over the people mingling around the station and saw Elizabeth sitting on one of the seats with an empty seat on either side of her.  Millie walked over to sit with the other woman.  "I'm ready to go."  She couldn't keep the grin off her face.  She was about to be a married woman. 

"Do you have your ticket?" Elizabeth asked.

Millie held up the ticket.  "And I have plenty of money for food on the train, and books to read, and everything else my mother was certain I would need."  She grinned at Elizabeth.

"At least you know she cares!  Now before I send a bride out, I do a quick background check on each man, and I find out as much as I can.  Connor checked out just fine, so there should be no problems.  If there are, come home."  Elizabeth looked like she was concerned, and Millie couldn't help but wonder why.

Millie nodded.  "My parents have already told me the same thing."

Elizabeth smiled.  "You have smart parents."

"Have you ever had a woman go out to marry a bad man?" Millie asked.

"Only once.  There were two men with the same name in a relatively large city, and I investigated the wrong one.  The bride was treated very poorly, but thankfully, she didn't marry the man she set out to marry.  She married a random stranger instead, and did very well for herself."

"I'm not one to stay in a bad situation."  She didn't mention the wad of money she had hidden on her either. Some was in her shoes.  Some was in each of her bags.  She even had some tucked into the bodice of her dress.  A small amount was in her purse, ready for her to purchase meals along her journey.  She was as ready as she would ever be to spend ten days on trains.

"Write to me when you get there so I know you're safe, please."  Elizabeth always asked the same two things of all the women she sent West.  Please don't stay if the situation is bad, and please write and let me know if you're safe. 

"I will.  Right after I write my parents and Berta."  Millie knew she would write the other two first, and she wasn't about to lie to Elizabeth and say she'd be getting the first letter from her. 

Elizabeth frowned at the mention of Berta's name.  "Thank you for stepping in for Berta.  I can't believe she just eloped that way."

"I've needed to get out of Beckham for a while.  All the same men.  All the same women.  I feel like I'm going crazy doing the same thing day in and day out. I need a change.  Badly."  She shook her head.  Her parents had always had money, and they refused to let their children work.  She felt like her life had been wasted as she did only the things they approved of, none of which had been very helpful.

Elizabeth nodded.  "I felt the same way before I took over the mail order bride agency from Harriett Long." 

"I thought I was the only one to ever feel this way!"  Millie sighed.  "Thank you!"  She felt much better knowing she wasn't the only one with feelings of inadequacy.

"Well, you're not.  I hope you enjoy Idaho Territory.  From what I've read it's very beautiful.  You won't have the ocean close by, of course, but you will have the mountains.  Mountains sound so beautiful to me."

Millie looked at Elizabeth with surprise.  "You've never been to the mountains?"  She had traveled more extensively than most young women, but she assumed Elizabeth had traveled as well.  The other girl obviously had wealth with the home she lived in.

Elizabeth shook her head.  "My parents barely had enough money to feed us all, let alone take us to the mountains."

Millie was almost ashamed at that moment of her privileged upbringing.  "We went to either the ocean for a week or to the mountains for a week every summer.  I love the mountains."  Her sisters had all preferred their ocean vacations, but she'd preferred the mountains.

"I've only seen photographs."

"You'll have to come visit me then."  Millie didn't know how her new husband would react to the invitation, but hopefully he wouldn't mind.  It was going to be interesting to have to work alongside a man every day.  She'd never been one to do what was expected of her, and she hoped her husband was expecting someone who could think for herself.

The conductor called for everyone to get on the train then, and Millie got to her feet.  "Thank you for all your help making this happen," she said to Elizabeth as she hugged her tightly.

"Just stay safe.  Have a wonderful life.  I hope he's everything you've imagined."

"Oh, he will be!"  If he wasn't, she'd just help him become the man she needed to be.  She was good at that sort of thing after all.

Millie hurried toward the train and climbed the steps.  In her mind she was climbing the mountain that led her to her new home and the man who would love her beyond belief.  Who would kiss her hands and tell her she was the most wonderful woman in the world every day.  She couldn't wait.

*****

Connor stood nervously waiting for his sweet Berta.  He looked out over the small crowd looking for the girl who had described her hair as the color of "the color of autumn leaves."  He couldn't wait to hug her and kiss her and welcome her to Idaho, the land of promise.  His heart pounded in his chest at the idea of meeting his beautiful bride.

The whole town, if you could call Gullet Gulch a town, was excited for him.  Most of the shops in town would be closed as people were all going to be attending his wedding.  His wedding with Miss Berta Wyatt, his new bride and cook for Connor's Restaurant.  He sighed happily as a woman stopped in front of him.  Her hair wasn't the color of autumn leaves, though.  Who was this?

"Are you Connor O'Reilly?"  Millie couldn't keep the smile off her face as she asked.  Connor was an extremely handsome man, something she hadn't expected at all.

He nodded, his face skeptical.  "You don't look like my Berta, though."  Who was this woman and where was his Berta?

She smiled sweetly.  "I'm not Berta.  I'm her best friend, Mildred, but everyone calls me Millie."  She held her hand out for him to shake, and he took it automatically, surprised that she was there.

"Where's my Berta?"  The confusion on his face was obvious to anyone who looked.  He wanted his bride, and she wasn't there.  Was she still on the train?

Millie sighed.  "You know, all this way, I've been hoping you wouldn't ask.  Is there somewhere we can sit, so I can explain?" she asked.  She hated having to be the one to explain that her friend had chosen to marry someone else.

Connor took her bags from her, carrying them like the gentleman he was, as he looked over the crowd, hoping to see Berta's hair somewhere.  Where was his bride and who was this woman?  "We can go to the park.  There is a bench there across from the fountain."  He didn't know where else to take her, because the restaurant was closed for his wedding.  His wedding that apparently had no bride to attend.

"Oh, a fountain?  I love fountains."  She'd make a wish on it.  Maybe he would fall in love with her, and the look of disappointment over her not being Berta would eventually go away.  She'd been sure he'd take one look at her and be satisfied that he'd gotten a good woman, but it just wasn't working out how she'd expected it to.

The park was a short walk, just across main street.  It was a small park with a few benches and a beautiful fountain in the middle.  People claimed the fountain had been brought over from England, but Connor wasn't certain he believed that.  He led her to a bench, where he sat down, putting the bags on the ground at his feet.  It was a good thing it was summer, because in the winter, he'd have lost them in the snow. 

Millie didn't sit down, and instead, she chose to pace the ground in front of him.  "I was with Berta when she first read your letter to the mail order bride agency.  Her beau had just left town, you see, and she thought he'd jilted her, but he really left town to make his fortune."  She did her best to explain, but she knew her thoughts were a bit scattered on the subject.

Connor made a face at the idea of his sweet Berta having a beau before him.  He didn't like that idea at all.  "I see."

"Well, when Harvey came back to town, he had no fortune, but my father offered him a job at his hotel, so he took it, and then he had a way to support Berta, so they eloped.  Your letter came in a week after they were married."  She was still pacing and didn't see the sad expression cross his face.  "So because you had sent a train ticket, but she couldn't come marry you, I said I'd come in her place.  I need to marry, and I wanted to move to where I could see mountains every day."  She nodded off into the distance, where the mountains rose majestically over the small town.  She looked at him, hoping he wouldn't reject her and send her back to Beckham.  Of course, even if he tried, she wouldn't go. 

Connor blinked a few times.  "So you are my substitute bride?"  Why would she just assume he would marry her?  Of course, he was certain he would.  He just had to get used to the idea.

She nodded, her face lighting up with excitement that the hard part of the day was over.  She'd explained everything to him, and he was all right with it. He was a handsome man, and she hated disappointing him that way, but at least he got a wife, right?

Connor sighed.  "I guess I don't really have a choice in the matter."  She wasn't what he'd been imagining as he went to sleep every night.  Instead, she was just a pretty girl.  Beauty didn't matter to him, though.  "Do you cook?"

Millie nodded.  "I do!"  She didn't add the words 'very badly,' but she should have.  She wasn't much of a cook, after all.  She would learn though.  And she had a cook book.  How hard could it be?  She thought about the eggshells that she'd cooked every time while Berta had been teaching her but immediately dismissed the memory.  Now was the time to rejoice over her marriage to this man.

Connor got to his feet and walked to her, looking her up and down.  She was pretty, and he was attracted to her.  She wasn't Berta, but did that really matter?  He'd never met her, and she was married to another man anyway.  "Well, I guess we're getting married then.  Do you want to change first?  Take a bath?  We have a bathroom down the hall from our room at the hotel."

"Oh, do you live out of town?  We're staying in the hotel tonight?"  It hadn't occurred to her they'd live out of town since he had to work in it.

He shook his head.  "No, I live at the hotel.  We'll share a room there.  Eventually we'll be able to buy a house, but it won't be this week."  It wouldn't even be that year, but he didn't add that.  It would be just as soon as he could make it happen.

Millie tried not to let her opinion of that show.  "Well, a bath would be nice before the wedding.  Thank you."  She looked over at the fountain he'd mentioned for a moment.  "Is it all right if I make a wish on the fountain first?"  It was a beautiful fountain, rising majestically over the park.  She'd never seen anything like it, and she found herself drawn to it.

He looked at her for a moment before shrugging.  He had no idea why she wanted to wish on it, but if it made her happy, she was welcome to do it.  "I guess.  I don't know if anyone's ever wished on it, but if that's what you want to do..."  He was beginning to realize that Millie wouldn't be nearly as easily dealt with as he'd imagined Berta would be.  Had she not been raised to know that a man was the head of his household?

She stepped closer to the fountain, placing her palms flat on it.  "It feels like I should wish on it.  Are you sure people don't wish on this thing?"  She glanced at him over her shoulder, wondering why he'd never wished on it.  She felt compelled to do so, wanting to instantly make a wish that she fully expected to be granted.

"Honestly, I have no idea." 

Closing her eyes tightly, she wished silently.  "I wish that I could make a real difference in Connor's life and that he won't be angry when he finds out I can't cook, and he'll fall in love with me anyway."  She smiled at him.  "You should wish too!"  She felt better after making her wish, as if she knew it would be granted.

He shrugged, playing along with her.  He put his palms flat on the fountain and closed his eyes as she had.  "I wish that this beautiful girl beside me will be as sweet and loving as I'd imagined Berta to be."  He looked at her.  "I wished."  Would she be satisfied with that?  Or would she ask about his wish?

"What did you wish for?" she asked.  She grinned up at him mischievously, hoping he'd tell her.  She needed to know what was most important to this man she was about to marry.

He laughed.  "What did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you!  My wish wouldn't come true." 

He laughed.   "Wishes don't come true anyway."

"This one will."  She put her hand through his arm and smiled up at him.  "You'll see."

As he led her toward the hotel, he said, "I don't even know your full name."  He was marrying a woman whose name he didn't even know.  What was he thinking?

"Well, it's Mildred Ann Barrington.  I didn't bother with my last name because it'll be O'Reilly in a couple of hours anyway."  She shrugged, indicating her old name no longer mattered to her in any way.

He looked at her in surprise.  She certainly was not lacking in self-confidence.  "What would you have done if I hadn't been willing to accept you instead of Berta?" He'd briefly considered sending her back where she came from, and he was surprised that she hadn't considered that possibility.

She shrugged.  "I would have stayed in town and tried to convince you otherwise, of course.  I guess I didn't think about that a whole lot.  I just loved the adventure of traveling all this way by myself."  She didn't add that if he couldn't find a wife, there were probably dozens of other men in need of wives too.  She could have found one of them as well.

He was surprised at her attitude, but couldn't deny he was attracted to a confident woman.  She would be good for him.  He led her to his room down at the end of the long hallway. 

Millie swallowed hard when she saw the tiny space.  He expected her to live in there?  The room was much smaller than the room she'd shared with her sister, Carrie.  She put her bags down on the bed, and thought about the tiny space she would be sharing with this man.  She had a great deal of money that her grandfather had left for her, and she'd brought it all. Would he let her use her own money to buy a house? She decided to wait until after the wedding to ask him that.

"I'll just use the pitcher and bowl," she told him as she waited for him to leave.  She looked at him, and he stood with his back against the door.  "Well, I can't wash and change with you watching!"  Why didn't he just leave?

Connor flushed and left the room, closing the door behind him.  He paced the halls while he waited for her.  For a moment, he'd hoped she would undress in front of him, but she hadn't.  Instead, she'd looked at him like he was crazy.  They'd be married in just a few hours.  What would it have mattered if he'd watched her change?  He shook his head, knowing she'd done the right thing, but he didn't want to admit it.  She was a beautiful woman, and he was more than a little attracted to her.

Millie removed her dress, but left her petticoat on as she quickly washed.  Connor seemed nice enough, but he hadn't been as excited by the switch as she'd hoped.  Of course, he'd never heard of her, so maybe that was why.  He couldn't look at Berta and then at her and realize that he'd gotten a good deal, could he?

When she was dressed in her wedding clothes, and had her hair fixed, she opened the door for him, and found him pacing the halls.  "I'm ready."  She wondered if there would be food involved with the wedding, because she needed a real meal and not just train sandwiches.  She had eaten so many sandwiches during her week and a half on the train she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to stomach another.

Connor looked at his bride with her hair fixed properly and a pretty, clean dress on.  She was beautiful.  He swallowed hard.  She'd cleaned up very well.  He glanced at his pocket watch.  "The wedding starts in half an hour.  We should head over to the church."  He was already in his church clothes for the wedding, so he was ready.  He couldn't believe he'd gotten such a beautiful woman.  He wouldn't be complaining that Berta hadn't shown up.

She nodded regally, taking his arm and walking with him.  His reaction to her was more like what she'd expected when she'd gotten off the train.  Of course, she'd been rather dirty and her hair had been falling out of it's perfect knot.  Now she looked more like herself.

They walked through the streets of the quiet town.  The small crowd from the train had dissipated.  "How often does the train come through here."

"Just once per day.  That's our busiest time of day at the restaurant.  We expect to have a rush of people for about an hour before and an hour after.  It always comes at noon, so people eat lunch while they're in town either picking someone up or dropping someone off." 

"Even on Sundays?" she asked with surprise.

He nodded.  "The pastor has service at eight on Sundays for those of us who are needed at the restaurant.  I usually go in and prep before service, and then I hurry over after and get everything cooked up just as fast as I can."

Millie had never really considered just how much work it would be to run a restaurant.  They needed to find someone to cook for them fast, but she didn't say it.  She just walked along beside him.  There was already a small crowd at the church.  "Did you invite people to the wedding?" she asked, not really sure what to expect.

"Oh, yes.  The whole town was invited.  I even shut down the restaurant for the whole day."  He said it as if it wasn't something he did often. 

Millie frowned, not liking the idea of life being endless work.  What had she been thinking moving across the country?  She stopped walking for a moment taking deep gulping breaths.  Did he ever take time off?  Would she be expected to work every single day just as he did?

Connor realized Millie had disappeared and turned to find her.  She was standing with her hand on her stomach taking deep breaths.  "Are you all right?" he asked, his hand immediately going to her upper arm.

She nodded.  "I just...I guess it just hit me that this is forever."

Connor watched her carefully.  "Do you want to back out?"

Millie realized there was nothing in the world she wanted as much as she wanted to back out of her wedding just then.  Why had she thought she could go through with this?  She wasn't used to second-guessing herself, so she concentrated on breathing deeply and getting her thoughts under control.  The word panic simply wasn't part of her vocabulary.

She shook her head.  "I'll be all right.  I just need a minute."  When she finally had control of herself again, she took his arm.  "I'm ready."  But she knew she wasn't.  She hoped she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life.

The wedding only took ten minutes.  It went way too fast for Millie.  She had no idea what would happen after.  Would he take her right back to the hotel to consummate the marriage?  Her mother had told her how that worked, and it hadn't sounded pleasant.  Would they have a small party to celebrate the wedding?  Would they eat?  She really hoped they'd eat.

The minister pronounced them man and wife.  "You may now kiss the bride." 

Connor smiled at her, and lowered his head to hers, brushing his lips briefly across hers. 

Millie shivered at his touch, but not in a bad way.  She liked it.  She'd been kissed before.  She'd been kissed by three different boys back home, but not one of them had made her feel like her belly was tingling or sent shivers through her body.  Not until Connor had kissed her. She wanted to ask him to kiss her again, but they had an audience.  Could she drag him out behind the church and kiss him?  Or should she just wait and eat lunch first?

"I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. O'Reilly," the pastor called out to the assembled crowd.

Everyone swarmed around them almost immediately.  She could tell that Connor was a much loved member of their town. 

She lost track of the people she met, but they were all friendly to her.  There were many more men than women, but she'd heard it was like that all through the West.  After five minutes or so of introductions, Connor asked, "Are you hungry?"

She nodded eagerly, hoping there would be food waiting for her, and he wouldn't ask her to cook.  "Very.  I've spent the last ten days eating sandwiches.  Lots and lots of sandwiches."  She had to eat, and she needed to do it soon.  She was surprised he hadn't heard her stomach growling at him through the ceremony.  She felt like it had been terribly loud.

Connor made a face.  "I like sandwiches but not for every meal for days in and days out."  He slipped his arm around her waist and led her to the back of the church.  "My friend's wife, Tabitha, is hosting a wedding party at her home.  She'll have lots of food for us."

They walked down the main street of the town toward the hotel.  "Is everything in this town on this same street?" Millie asked.  She was eager to get to know her new home.

"Pretty much.  There's not much to it."

"I can see that."  Why she'd expected a thriving city like Beckham she had no idea.  Maybe because living anywhere else in the world seemed odd to her.  She liked the quiet atmosphere of the town, though, and hoped that the constant people coming into town for the train would make it seem like it was a bit larger.

They stopped just before the hotel, and he led her up the walk to a medium sized house, made entirely of wood.  Before they even reached the door it was flung open and Millie found herself grabbed in a big hug.  "You must be Berta!  I've been dying to meet you after Connor has told us so much about you."

Millie shook her head.  "Berta eloped.  I'm Millie.  I came in her place."  She smiled sweetly, hoping the woman wouldn't ask any more questions.

Tabitha stood back for a moment, looking shocked.  "So you're the substitute wife?"

"I'm the only wife.  I suppose I was a substitute fiancé, though."  Millie sincerely hoped that she wouldn't always be seen as the substitute.  That would be unacceptable for a woman like her.

Chapter Three

The wedding party was a pot luck and many women from the area had brought covered dishes, so there was a huge variety of food on offer.  For the first few minutes, Millie pretty much concentrated on food and ignored the people around her unless they spoke to her directly. The variety of food amazed her.  There were obviously a lot of people in the area who were first generations out of Europe, and from many different lands, so the food was more cultural than she was used to back in Beckham.

She had fried chicken, Irish stew, and lutefisk.  She wasn't feeling particularly picky, just hungry, so she ate some of everything.  She worried for a moment that Connor would think she was eating too much, but she decided she didn't care.  She was hungry, and she was going to eat her fill.

When the wedding cake was brought out, she glanced at Connor who had been at her side the entire time.  "The cake is beautiful."  She'd never seen anything like it.  It was three layers with tiers set up between them. 

He smiled.  "That I made myself."

She stared at it in shock.  "Why don't you have a bakery?"  She could see that he would be a very good baker if the cake tasted even half as good as it looked.

He shrugged.  "There was no way to make a living with a bakery here, but I could make a living with a hotel and restaurant.  So I did what I needed to do."  It made perfect sense to him.  He could move to a large city where he wouldn't be as happy and run a bakery, or he could live in Gullet's Gulch and do something he liked less.

"You should at least sell baked goods from the restaurant.  Extra pies for people to take home."

He looked at her and nodded slowly.  "I hadn't thought of that, but I might need to."  The more he watched her, the more he was glad that this girl had come and not the one he was expecting.  He'd had an image in his head of what his perfect wife would be like, and Berta was it.  Now that he'd spent some time with Millie, he thought maybe she was the one he needed for his bride, and not Berta.  Maybe God had been watching out for him.

They got up to cut the cake together and fed each other one bite with their forks.  It was slightly embarrassing for her, with everyone watching, but she did enjoy being close to Connor.

The party went on for hours, with her speaking to a few people and everyone telling Connor how much they cared about him and how happy they wanted him to be.  Millie was beginning to see just how much he meant to the people of his town.  "How long have you lived here?" she finally asked.

He smiled over at her, his hand reaching out for hers.  "About ten years.  I opened my restaurant eight years ago, and the hotel six years ago."  He was proud of what he'd accomplished during his time there, and was happy to be able to share his life with his beautiful bride.

"You're doing very well for yourself here."  He seemed to fit in with this town better than she had in Beckham, and she'd lived there her entire twenty-two years.

He nodded.  "I love it here.  I wouldn't go back to Ireland.  Here, I have everything I need."  He looked into her eyes.  "In Ireland I had no wife.   Here I have you.  Someone who will keep me warm at night and work by my side all day.  I'm glad you're here." He leaned over in his chair and kissed her softly wanting her to understand just how much her presence meant to him.

She caught the back of his head with her hand and kissed him back, her lips parting for his.  She felt a warmth spread through her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes that had nothing to do with the summer heat. 

When she heard the catcalls from across the room, she flushed and pulled away from him. "Can I help it if I married the most handsome man in Idaho Territory?" she asked loudly.

There was a lot of laughter, and Connor pulled her close to his side.  "You're going to be a good wife to me."

"I'm going to do my very best." She felt badly that he didn't realize she couldn't cook yet, but she didn't want to ruin their wedding days with any depressing news.  She'd wait.  That kind of news was always better to wait on.  Besides, as soon as he saw how good she was at helping the people around her, she was certain he'd be thrilled to have her for his wife.

Connor finally looked over at her and squeezed her hand.  "Are you ready to go?  We have to be the first to leave, and some of the children look like they're getting sleepy."  He didn't add that he couldn't wait any longer to take her into his arms and truly make her his wife.

Looking at the wall clock, Millie could see it was almost seven.  They had eaten most of the afternoon, with snacking here and desserts there.  She was grateful no one would need to cook that evening.  "I'm ready."  Her eyes didn't meet his, though, because she felt that ready meant something very different than what he did.  Her mother had talked to her about what to expect on her wedding night, and she was not looking forward to it.  How could that possibly be comfortable?

They stood, and Connor thanked everyone for coming, the Irish in his voice making Millie smile.  "We'll see you all at the restaurant and at church on Sunday."  They both waved to the others as they left the house, walking toward the hotel.

When they were finally alone, she had no idea what to say to him.  What did one say to a man she'd just met but who she was now married to?  "Your friends are nice," she mumbled.

Connor smiled.  "They are.  This whole town has invited me in and acted like I'm a long lost son.  It's a good place for me to be.  I feel like I'm loved here."

"What was your family like?" She'd never been out of the United States, so she had no idea what it would have been like growing up in Ireland.

He shrugged.  "I was the oldest of eight children.  Three girls and five boys.  My da had a farm, and we all worked on it whenever we weren't in school.  Mam had a small bakery that she ran out of the house.  I would have preferred to work with Mam all the time, but Da needed me for the farm labor.  In the evenings, after it was too dark to work outside, Mam would show me how to bake and decorate cakes."  He smiled as he thought of the long hours in the kitchen with his mother.  He knew it was odd that he preferred the baking to the farm work, but he'd been drawn to the kitchen his entire life.

"It sounds like it was a good way to grow up."  She couldn't help but smile at the idea of him in a kitchen with his mother.

He thought about that for a moment before saying, "It was the best.  I wouldn't trade it for anything."  He sighed.  "I do wish my family could have come over here with me, but Mam said she was too old to go to some strange country and start over.  I sometimes wish one of my brothers or sisters would travel over and settle near me, but they're marrying boys and girls from home one by one." 

"You miss them."  It was obvious by his tone of voice that he wanted to have his family around him again.

He nodded.  "I miss them every day.  I made the right choice for me to come here and to start my own business.  For them?  The choice wasn't as great."  He looked down at her as they entered the lobby of the hotel to go up to their rooms.  "What about you?  Did you come from a large family?"

She shook her head.  "Not as large as yours.  There were four of us, all girls.  I'm the oldest."

"So we're both the oldest of our family.  Does that make us both bossy?"  He grinned.  "My brothers and sisters all said I was bossy because I was the oldest."

"Oh, absolutely not.  It makes us both more responsible than most."  She grinned at him.

When they got to their room, he used his key to unlock the door for her, and stopped.  "I'll wait while you get ready for bed."

She sighed.  "I'd really like to take a bath tonight.  Would that be all right?"

He nodded, taking her down the hallway to the bathroom and showing her how the running water worked. 

"I'll get my nightgown first," she told him, blushing slightly.  She'd never worn just a nightgown in front of a man.  She was nervous about being alone with him, but he was her husband now.  She needed to get over that feeling.

They walked back to the bedroom, and she got her nightgown and dressing gown, along with her hairbrush, before rushing down the hall to take a bath.  She wanted to spend hours relaxing in the bath, but realized that he wouldn't be thrilled with her for that.  She needed to hurry and be with him as soon as possible. 

She rushed through her bath, washing her hair quickly.  When she got out, she hurriedly brushed her hair before dressing and going back down the hall, her dirty clothes in her hands.

He was waiting in the room for her, and jumped up when she entered.  "I'll just go and get a quick bath too," he said, leaving her there to settle in.  As he hurried down the hall he thought about how pretty she had looked with her pink dressing gown and her hair down around her shoulders.  She was a beautiful girl, and he couldn't wait to kiss her.

When he returned to the room, she was sitting on the bed with her legs folded under her, brushing through her long hair.  She carefully held each strand up as she brushed it trying to get it to dry quickly.  Her hair was long though, well past her waist, and he realized her arms must be getting tired.  "May I help?" he asked.

She looked at him with surprise.  "You want to help me brush my hair?"  She'd never heard of such a thing, but surely it was all right for him to help her.  They were married after all.

He nodded, moving around to sit behind her on the bed.  She passed the brush to him over her shoulder and bent her head forward.  Her sister had brushed her hair for her many times, as well as her mother.  They hadn't been allowed to have personal maids in their house, because her mother had said it would turn them into spoiled brats, so she'd learned to do mostly for herself.

He took the brush from her and ran it through her hair, holding up individual sections to dry it faster.  "You have beautiful hair."

She swallowed hard.  It felt odd to let a man do something so personal for her.  "Thank you."  It felt good to have his hands on her hair.  She wanted to lean back against him and give herself over to the sensation, but she didn't want to be too forward.

"When it was all on top of your head, I had no idea it was so long.  I don't think I've ever seen hair this long." 

She shrugged.  "I've never had it cut.  It's been trimmed to even the length, but it's never been cut."  Her father had believed that all women should be able to sit on their hair, and hadn't allowed them to cut it at all.

"It's truly glorious."  He said nothing else, just breathing in her scent as he slowly dried her hair with his fingers. 

She let her head drop way forward, and just enjoyed the feel of his hands on her hair.  She could have sat letting him brush it for hours, but she knew he would never agree to take so long.  She was honestly surprised he was brushing it for her at all.  She'd never heard of a man brushing a woman's hair for her.

Finally he got out of the bed and set the brush down on the dresser, returning to sit on the bed in front of her.  "I think it's dry enough," he said, tilting her face up to his with an index finger under her chin.

"Thank you.  I truly enjoyed that.  Brushing my hair is just one of those chores I have to go through every day, and you made it special."  She'd never dreamed he'd do something so intimate for her and make it feel so good.  He was going to be a good husband.  She could feel it.

He smiled, stroking her cheek.  "We'll try to make everything in life special."  He sighed happily.  "I think one of the greatest gifts my parents gave me is the ability to find happiness in the smallest of things.  If you're too poor to have a roof over your head, it means that you get to sleep under the beautiful canopy of stars God created for us.  If you have no money for cake, you thank God for the bread you have.  There's something that's good in every situation."  He shrugged.  "Tonight, I got to touch my beautiful bride by helping her with her hair.  It was a gift you gave me, letting me do it."

Millie smiled at him, reaching out to touch his cheek, which he had obviously shaven while he was in the bathroom.  "You gave me a gift as well."  She realized then that she'd made the right decision moving to Idaho.  Her new husband was just what she needed in life.  He was loving, and he saw the good in all situations.  How could she help falling in love with a man like that?

Chapter Four

Connor leaned forward and kissed Millie gently, his hand on her cheek his other braced on the bed.  He would go as slowly as his sweet bride needed this first time.  Her lips fluttered against his, and he moved closer, needing to feel her against him.

Millie liked kissing Connor, but she was certain she wouldn't like what came after the kissing.  Her mother had explained that it was her duty as a wife, though, so she didn't pull away.  When he did nothing more than kiss her, her lips parted under his, and he swept his tongue inside her mouth to tangle with hers.  She wound her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back, her hands stroking the hard muscles of his arms under his shirt. 

He moved his hands to the belt of her dressing gown and undid it, pushing it off her shoulders.  Moving his hands to the buttons at the front of her gown, he unbuttoned the top one, before her hands caught his.  She pulled away from the kiss, looking into his eyes.  "Not yet.  All right?"

He nodded.  "I can wait."  Her nightgown was made of the finest linen, and it was obvious she was from a much wealthier background than he was.  He hoped she had no complaints for the way he provided.  He smoothed his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, moving them around to her back.  His hands stroked her through her nightgown, doing his best to get her used to his touch.  He didn't want her shying away from him, but he needed her to get used to him having free access to her body.

She rose to her knees on the bed so she could get closer to him, her arms winding around him and stroking him through his shirt.  She felt her breasts flattened against the hard wall of his chest, and she found she liked the feeling.  She liked everything about touching him so far, but she was afraid of what would happen if she let him take her nightgown off.

He kissed down the side of her neck to her shoulder, and pressed soft quick kisses there.  He inched the fabric of her nightgown to the side so he had access to more of her bare flesh and he covered it all with kisses. 

She stroked her fingers through his hair, smiling as she touched him.  His lips felt so good against her flesh she couldn't contain her enthusiasm.  She wanted to kiss his shoulders and chest as well, but he had put the dress shirt he'd worn to their wedding back on after his bath.  She moved her hands to the top buttons of his shirt and began liberating them from their holes.  "Do you mind?" she asked.

Connor shook his head, moving onto his knees as well so she would have better access.  He watched her with her hands on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt, and was overwhelmed with all he felt for her.  Never in his life had he done this with a woman, and here she was, eagerly unbuttoning his shirt.  He'd been certain he would need to coerce her into making love with him, but he found she was a willing participant.  Could he have found a more perfect wife for him?

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and came into contact with his bare chest, kissing a slow path across it.  Her thumbs found his nipples and she stroked them.  She'd never seen a man with no shirt on before, and it felt strange to be touching him this way.  Strange, but wonderful.

He let out a low moan, and she looked up at him, wondering if she'd displease him somehow.  The look of bliss on his face startled her.  "You like it when I touch you."

"I love it when you touch me.  Your fingers against my bare skin is my idea of what heaven must be."

She giggled softly.  "I like touching you."  She knew she probably wasn't supposed to admit that to him, but he was her husband.  She wasn't about to hide her feelings from him.

He kissed her again, sweetly, not trying to force his tongue into her mouth.  "Is it okay if I touch you now?" he asked, his fingers plucking against the shoulders of her nightgown. 

She nodded, and while he unbuttoned her nightgown, she caught them hem of it.  As soon as he was finished, she pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor.

He stared at her, a dazed expression on his face.  One hand came up to cup her breast, and he stroked his thumb over the tip of it.  "You are so beautiful."

She quickly moved against him so her body would be hidden from his view as it was pressed against his.  He stroked his hands over her back and down over her beautifully rounded bottom.  He cupped her derriere in his hands, and she looked at him startled.  "You're touching me everywhere."  Was that allowed?

He nodded.  "I'm supposed to."  He could tell she worried that they were doing something wrong, and he wanted to keep her from worrying.

"You are?"  Her mother had said nothing about that to her.

He nodded evenly.  "I'm your husband.  I'm supposed to know your body as well as I know my own."

"Am I supposed to know your body as well as I know mine?"  She liked the idea of touching him everywhere.  What had come over her that she was interested in touching a man's body this way?

He nodded, hoping she'd take him at his word.  Her hands immediately went to the waistband of his pants, unfastening them and pushing them down over his lean hips.  She couldn't make herself look down as she removed them, not wanting to see the man-part of him.  Surely it was wrong for her to look at his bare body.  She kissed him again, her hands roaming around to his backside and touching him there, cupping him in her hands. 

He took his pants the rest of the way off, and pushed her down to her back, his hands going to her thighs, caressing them softly.  He moved his hand between them, his fingers finding her core.  Kissing her softly, he caught her cries of surprise as he plunged one finger deep inside her, stroking her softly, trying to ignite the same kind of fire in her that he felt burning inside him.

*****

Afterward, he gathered her into his arms and held her close, raining kisses over her face.  "That was the most incredible experience of my life," he whispered to her.

She sighed, snuggling into him with her face buried in his neck.  "It's...not what I expected." She was embarrassed by how passionately she'd responded to him.  She hadn't expected to like what they did in bed together nearly as much as she had.

Connor pulled away, looking into her eyes.  "What did you expect?"

Millie shrugged. "The way my mother told it, the pain would be almost unbearable, and it would be just embarrassing.  Instead, I barely noticed any pain, and...well...it was a little embarrassing, but not so much that I don't want to do it again tomorrow.  And the next day."  She blushed as he watched her grinning. 

He laughed, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her again.  "That's why you're just the right woman for me."

*****

It was still dark when he woke her the next morning, and she groaned, wanting nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep.  He tore the covers off her and threw them on the floor, before getting out his pants and dressing quickly.  She rolled out of bed and pulled her petticoat on.  She fixed her hair and dressed, buttoning her shoes with sleepy eyes.  "What time is it?" she asked grumpily.  She'd never been a morning person, and this morning was no exception.

"It's five-thirty.  We have to start the bread baking for the day, and get a couple of pies made.  We open at ten-thirty, and there's a lot of cooking to be done."  His voice was positively cheerful making her want to throw something at his head, but she refrained, quietly getting ready for the day instead.

She grumbled as she followed him out the door to the restaurant, which was connected to the hotel.  Walking into the kitchen she looked around with a smile.  He had a good set up here, and she couldn't help but be impressed.  Of course, she had no idea how to cook, so she would have to learn quickly.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, watching as he took down ingredients for bread.

"Why don't you make us some scrambled eggs, bacon, and a pot of coffee.  I can see you need coffee."  He smiled at her as he said the words, letting her know that her morning grumpiness didn't bother him at all.

She smiled as she pulled out a frying pan and found the eggs and bacon in a room filled with ice.  She walked out, shivering as she rubbed her arms.  "I've never made coffee," she told him.  "Would you show me?"  She didn't mind asking for the one little thing, because she was certain she could make the eggs.  She'd done it over and over with Berta, and she was certain she was an expert now.  Of course, she had never done it without leaving eggshells in with the eggs, but she'd be more careful this time.

He raised an eyebrow at that but showed her how to measure the coffee into the tin pot.  "There.  Now just set it on the stove and it'll cook."  He watched her as she did as he told her, hoping that she was better in the kitchen than it looked like she was.  What kind of woman didn't know how to make coffee?  From what he could tell, every American had coffee with their breakfast every day of the week.

He'd started a fire in the coal stove for her while she was getting the eggs and bacon and watched her as she laid the bacon in the still cold frying pan.  He could see she hadn't done as much cooking as she'd let on.  "The bacon will turn out better if you warm the pan up first," he said.  He gave her the advice calmly as if he didn't mind at all that she had no clue what she was doing, but he could see that she knew nothing about cooking.  Why hadn't she simply told him the truth?

"Oh, all right." She took the bacon back out and set the pan on the stove, waiting for it to warm.  While it was warming, she cracked several eggs into a bowl, having to keep fishing out egg shells. 

"Millie?"  Connor's voice was soft, but demanding as he said her name.

She nodded, afraid to look at him.

"You said you cooked." 

"I didn't say I did it well."  She bit her lip, looking down at the eggs that she'd already mangled beyond recognition.

He sighed.  "I'll teach you."  He had never been so disappointed in his life.  She'd seemed so perfect to him, and now he could see where her flaws lay.  She couldn't cook.  At all.  He'd asked for a wife who was an experienced cook, because it's what he needed.  How was he going to be able to make this work?  "While I'm teaching you, I'm going to need for you to spend most of your time waiting tables.  Do you mind taking orders from people and taking them their food?"  There was no going back now.  They were married, and he truly didn't think he'd not marry her if he'd known, but he did wish she'd have told him.

She dashed a tear from her eye as she nodded.  "I'm sorry!  I was going to tell you, but I just couldn't.  I was afraid you'd send me back home."  She sniffled loudly as she admitted why she hadn't told him the truth.

"I may have," he said.  "We'll make it work, though."  He continued mixing the bread, picking up the pace a little.  They'd slept later than they would have if he'd known he'd be doing the majority of the cooking alone.  He'd have to work harder to have everything ready by the time the restaurant opened.

He finished mixing the bread and went over to stand beside her, carefully dumping the eggs into a slop bowl.  "We give all of our scraps to one of the pig farmers outside of town, and he feeds his pigs with them.  In return, he gives us a reduced price for the slaughtered pig when the time comes."

She nodded.  "I'm sorry I'm messed up the eggs."  She looked down, unable to meet his gaze, because she knew she'd see disappointment in it.  He didn't know yet how good she was with people.

"It's fine."  He turned to the stove.  "The pan is hot enough now, so let's start the bacon."  He laid the bacon across the pan and she heard the sizzle.  Then he turned back to the bowl she'd used to mix the eggs.  After checking that there were no pieces of shell left, he cracked six eggs into it, using just one hand.  She watched carefully, knowing she wanted to be able to do it herself the next day.  She should have paid better attention when Berta was trying to teach her.

"I want you to mix this together."  He handed her a fork.  "Hold the bowl against your belly with your arm and mix it fast with the fork."  He watched her for a moment, before he nodded and walked to the stove to turn the bacon.  "Always cook the bacon first, because then you can use the grease to cook the eggs.  If you're not making bacon or sausage with your eggs, use butter or a little lard to grease the pan."

She nodded, listening to every word.  She needed to get into the mindset that she could cook, and she needed to learn from him as quickly as she could.  He hadn't yelled at her or berated her for lying to him, but he should have.  She hated that she'd let him down in something so important.  Why hadn't she listened to Berta?

He took the bowl from her.  "I'm going to add just a little bit of salt and pepper now, and we'll be ready to cook the eggs.  I'm going to let you cook them.  The important thing when you scramble eggs is not to let any on part of the egg stick to the pan for too long.  You need to keep mixing the eggs around while they cook.  All right?"  He used a tone of voice that he would use with a child he was teaching.  He tried not to let his upset show in his tone of voice, because she was obviously already humiliated.

She nodded.  "I can do that."  At least she hoped she could.  She'd do her very best.

He took the bacon out of the pan while she took a spoon and carefully stirred the eggs, just as he'd said.  He watched her a bit, but seemed satisfied that she was doing it right.  While she cooked the eggs, he mixed up a crust for a pie later.  "Do you know how to peel and core apples?" he asked.  He hoped there were some things she could do in the kitchen, because he needed her to help him even if it was just the little things.

"I've done that before."  She preferred to eat apples peeled and cored, and her mother hadn't let the cook do it for her, insisting that if she wouldn't eat the fruit in its natural state, then she should have to do it herself.

"All right.  I'll have you do that after breakfast."  He nodded to the eggs.  "They're done now.  Use your apron to shield your hand and move them off the stove onto that towel there."  He pointed to the towel he'd set down for her to use.  "That's perfect."  He handed her two plates.  "Divide the bacon between the plates and put half the eggs on each.  Pour us each a cup of coffee and set everything on the table there.  We'll eat."  He was pleased with her first lesson.  She'd done very well.

She noticed for the first time a small table for two in the corner of the kitchen.  "Is that where we'll eat all of our meals?" she asked.  She was used to eating in a formal dining room with the family's cook serving them, but she could get used to eating at the small table.  It felt intimate to her, and she liked the idea of being so close to her new husband.

"Most of them anyway."  He watched as she did as she was told and walked over to sit across from her.  He took her hand in his as he prayed for them both, and then picked up his fork, taking a small amount of the egg and tasting it.  "That's good!"

She smiled, thankful she'd at least done that right.  She squeezed his hand before picking up her fork.  "Thank you for not getting angry with me."  She knew she didn't deserve his understanding, but she was thankful to have it.  Eventually, she'd help the whole town out, and he'd see that her lack of cooking skill was a minor flaw.

He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over it.  "I'm disappointed.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't.  It really hurts me that you'd lie to me, but there's not much either of us can do about it now other than make the best out of the situation."  His words came out harsher than he'd intended them to, and he immediately felt badly.

When she looked down at her plate, he knew he had hurt her feelings, but she needed to know he wouldn't put up with lies.  "I care for you, and we're going to make things work out between us.  In a few weeks you won't be lying when you say you can cook.  In the mean time, you're going to have to do the little jobs around the restaurant that don't involve a great deal of cooking."  He shrugged.  "We'll make it work."  He would make certain of it.

She nodded, still not able to meet his eyes.  She took a bite of the eggs and looked up in surprise.  "They are good.  I made eggs!"  She said the words as if she'd climbed a mountain or finished painting a masterpiece.

He smiled, enjoying her enthusiasm.  If she wanted to be able to cook as much as she seemed to, she'd be good at it in no time.  "I told you they were."  He was thrilled to see her so pleased with herself. 

After breakfast, she washed the dishes, while he prepped food for the day.  When she was finished with the dishes, he gave her a huge basket of apples to peel and core.  "We also need them sliced, but I'll show you how I want that done when you're finished."  He preferred thin slices of apple, almost as thin as a sheet of paper, because he felt it helped the other seasonings flavor the apples better.

They worked together mostly in silence as they prepped for their day.  He would have her watch when there was something he wanted her to be able to do.  When she finished with the apples, he walked around behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.  "You're doing a great job," he said encouragingly.  He showed her how thin he wanted the apples sliced, and she went to work on that. 

He showed her how to put the apples into the crust and the right amount of sugar and spices to add.  "There, now you can mostly make an apple pie."  He added the top crust and popped the first of the pies into the oven. 

They worked well together, and he realized that she was more than capable of doing most of what he needed done in the restaurant as long as he was willing to keep cooking.  Of course, he had wanted her to take over all the cooking, so he could concentrate on baking and open a bakery as part of the restaurant, but that could be put off while she learned to cook.

By the time the restaurant opened, she already had a few tendrils of hair escaping from her bun, and he loved it.  He caught her face in his hands and kissed her quickly before walking to the front of the restaurant to flip the sign from closed to open and unlock the door.  This would be the real test for her.  Would she be able to keep up with the customers if she couldn't keep up with the cooking?  He usually did both, because the restaurant was small.  They'd see.

Chapter Five

From the time they opened at half past ten to they closed again at two, they were swamped with customers.  Millie was in and out of the kitchen taking plates to people, but she never got an order wrong.  She introduced herself sweetly to every person who walked in, and offered them all apple pie at the end of their meal. "I made it myself," she told them all, stretching the truth a little.

Most of the customers were ranchers or their hands coming into town to get something or someone from the train.  Connor had been right about that.  Several times she was asked if she had a husband, so she finally started introducing herself as Millie O'Reilly.  The name sounded strange even to her.  She wondered how long it would take for her to get used to the new name.

Just before they closed at two, she walked up to a table, taking her pencil from behind her ear where she'd tucked it.  "Hi, I'm Millie O'Reilly.  I'll be your waitress.  What can I get you today?"  She smiled, asking the question sweetly.  She'd been surprised at the tips she was receiving from the customers.

The man looked her up and down as if she wore nothing, and she wanted to hide behind something.  "You marry Connor?"

Millie nodded.  "Just yesterday."  She was pleased to be able to say she was married, because the man made her feel very uncomfortable.  He obviously needed a wife, but it couldn't be her. 

"You don't need him.  Run away with me."

Millie couldn't believe he'd even suggested it.  "I believe in the sanctity of marriage."  She stared at him as if he were a rodent.  "What can I get you today?"  She refused to think about anything else.

He looked up at the chalk board where she had written the menu for the day.  "I'll take the roast and a glass of iced tea." 

"I'll get it for you."  She walked into the kitchen and happily shut the door behind her. "There's a man out there, that's looking at me like he wants to eat me for lunch," she told Connor, shuddering.

Connor walked over to the door to the dining area, and looked out.  "That's John Bennett.  He's a rancher just outside of town; he's okay once you get to know him.  For now anytime he comes in here, you let me know, and I'll serve him."

She nodded, thankful for his answer.  "He wants the roast and iced tea." 

"You plate it, and I'll take it out to him."  He'd been working with her on the correct way to plate meals for the customers throughout the morning.  At first, he'd done it for her, but gradually, he'd made her start doing it all herself.

She carefully put two pieces of meat, the amount of mashed potatoes he'd shown her, and a spoonful of carrots onto a plate, added two slices of the fresh bread, and poured a glass of iced tea.  She handed both to Connor.  "Thank you for taking care of him."

Connor kissed Millie over the food.  "You don't have to deal with people who make you uncomfortable."  He went out the swinging door and put the food down in front of the man, who was the only person left in the restaurant.  "Here you go."  He stood over the rancher after setting his food on the table in front of him, waiting for the other man to ask him about Millie.

"What happened to your pretty little wife?  I thought she was going to bring me my food."  John seemed annoyed that he'd been served by Connor instead of Millie.

"It's time for her lunch break."  Connor walked back toward the kitchen.  "You let me know if you want anything else," he called over his shoulder.

"I'd rather have the pretty girl serve me."

"You'll need to go somewhere else for that.  I'm sure you can find a saloon somewhere.  My wife is eating her lunch."  He walked back into the kitchen.  "Eat."

"But I was going to wait for you.  I want to wash the dishes now so we can eat together."  She hated the idea of eating without him.

"I told him you were taking your lunch break, so you need to eat."

She sighed.  "I guess I'm eating lunch then."  She looked at what was left, and served herself a huge bowl of the chicken and dumplings.  She hadn't eaten since early that morning and was starving.  She took two slices of bread and buttered them before walking to the table and sitting down.

She watched as Connor got a bowl of the chicken himself and added bread, walking to sit across from her.  "I'm not going to let you eat alone," he told her with a smile.

As soon as they were finished, Connor went to check on John.  "You want anything else?"

"What kind of pie you got today?"

"Apple." 

"I'll take a piece and a cup of coffee."

Millie heard the conversation and had the pie and coffee ready for him when he came in.  He nodded his thanks and took it back out to the other man.  "I'll have your bill ready in a minute."  He spent a minute on the bill and took it back out. 

"Now when I leave my tip today, I want that pretty wife of yours to get it and to know it's from me."

Connor nodded.  "I'll tell her."  When he walked back into the kitchen she was on her feet in front of the sink washing the last of the lunch dishes.  She'd done her best to keep up with them throughout the day.  He couldn't have been more pleased with her.  It was obvious she wasn't used to hard work, but she had jumped right in and done everything that needed to be done.  How could he complain about that?

Together they cleaned the kitchen from the lunch crowd and started preparing the food for supper.  "Supper's a bit harder," Connor explained.  "At lunch we have three meals for them to choose from, and they pick one.  It's that simple.  At supper, we have those same three meals, but we add steak, which we cook to order, and baked chicken."

Millie listened eagerly, nodding.  "So for supper, we'll do the chicken and dumplings, beef stew, and roast beef, but we'll also have steak and baked chicken.  Got it."  She would learn to do everything just the way he wanted it done so that she could please him.  Never in her life had she wanted to please anyone as much as she wanted to please Connor.

He smiled.  "We do mashed potatoes as a side with both the chicken and the steak."  He pointed to a small mountain of potatoes.  "Have you ever peeled potatoes?"  He'd done them that morning while having her do other tasks.  She'd watched as much as she could, but she'd needed to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing.

She shook her head, staring at the huge pile.  "Is it much different from apples?"

"Not terribly.  Peel them, cut them into small chunks, and throw them in a pot of water.  Then we'll boil them."  He explained the process as succinctly as he could, knowing she would follow his directions after working with her for half a day already.

"Do we serve the same things every day?"  She hoped so, because she could learn to make the meals faster if they did.

He nodded.  "I change up the dessert every day, but that's about it."

She walked to the sink and grabbed a potato.  "Let's get started then."  She was eager to do everything he needed her to do and do it right. 

They re-opened for supper at five and closed at seven.  She was amazed at how much work was involved in serving meals for only five and a half hours per day.  The dinner crowd was much smaller than the lunch crowd had been, and Millie was thankful.  Her feet hurt by the time they closed, and they still had a small mountain of dishes to do. 

She went to the sink and washed them quickly, without a word, wanting to get done so she could go to sleep.  Nothing had ever sounded as good as sleep did in that moment. She knew she'd eventually get used to the hard work, but just then, it didn't feel like it.

"You look exhausted," he said as he wrapped his arm around her to walk back up the stairs to their room.

She nodded.  "I've never worked so hard in my life."

He smiled, squeezing her tightly.  "Did you have a job at home?" 

She shook her head.  "I was a wastrel.  I volunteered at the orphanage on occasion, but I just sat holding the babies.  I didn't do any real work."  She hated admitting it, but she wasn't about to lie to him after the way he'd reacted to her not being able to cook.

"How old are you?"  He couldn't believe he didn't know how old his own wife was, but he had to ask. 

"Twenty-two."  She frowned, knowing it had sounded like she'd wasted a lot of time doing nothing.   "My parents didn't think women should work." 

"Really?"  He raised an eyebrow.  "What does your father do?"

"He owns a restaurant and hotel.  Just like you do."

"And he employed no women?"

Millie frowned.  "He had a lot of female employees.  I guess what he really meant is that he didn't think his daughters should work."  She'd never thought about his double standards before, but it was clear to her then that she should have.

Connor laughed, shaking his head.  "Did he know that you'd be working with me?"

"I left that out when I told him I was coming out here to marry you."  She rested her head on his shoulder.  "Oh, I almost forgot.  I'm supposed to write three letters as soon as I arrive so everyone knows I'm all right."  She hated that she hadn't done it the previous day.  She didn't want the people she cared about worrying about her.

"Tomorrow.   Tonight, you need to just get ready for bed.  We'll have an early day again tomorrow."  Watching her, he realized he may be asking too much from her.  She wasn't used to working at all, and he was suddenly asking her to work fourteen hour days.  He wasn't sure she was ready for it.  Of course, once they were working together better, the amount of time it took to prepare would be cut way down.

They both undressed quickly and climbed into bed.  He pulled her into his arms, and she put her head on his shoulder.  She was too tired to make love, and he knew it.  He sighed.  They always had tomorrow.  Maybe he'd need to start closing the restaurant one day a week to give her time to rest.

He watched her for a few minutes as she slept, wondering why he wasn't angrier with her for lying to him.  He guessed he understood in some ways why she'd done it, but it had certainly ruined his plans for the bakery.  Maybe that was a good thing though.  He closed his eyes, curled around her.  Today had been rough, but it could only get better from there.  Right?

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.

Millie frowned.  The boys had been holding the slingshots upside down.  Was she supposed to just walk away and let the other children laugh at them?

"She gave old Pappy money yesterday, and he shot out one of my windows," someone else protested.

"Did you know she tried to get Mary Sanders to marry John Bennett?  Those two have hated each other since they were knee high to a grasshopper.  What is the woman thinking?"  She didn't recognize the voice that said that.

Slowly she left the door and went back to work, preparing the food for the day.  Did the whole town see her as some sort of idiot who could do nothing right? She couldn't stay somewhere where she wasn't appreciated, but where would she go?  She certainly couldn't go back to Beckham, because she would be laughed at. 

Finally, she hit on the idea.  She'd heard the mountains near Gullet Gulch were riddled with caves.  She'd go live in a cave somewhere.  First she'd have to learn to shoot, though, but she had money.  She could pay one of the local teenage boys to teach her to shoot.  How hard could it be?

When Connor came back into the kitchen, he looked angry, but he said nothing to her about the conversation with the men in the dining room.  She knew he was angry with her though.  How could he not be?  She was angry with herself when she heard all the things she'd done wrong listed at one time.

They worked together in silence, with him unable to meet her eyes.  That's how she knew he was angry with her.  He'd never avoided her eyes before, not even when he'd found out she couldn't cook.  She would have to put her plan in action.

*****

That afternoon while Connor was doing the books for the hotel, she caught one of the teens on their way home from school.  "Do you know how to shoot?" she asked.  She knew he'd know how, because all boys could shoot, couldn't they?

The boy nodded.  "I hunt all the time.  Why?"

"Well, I want to learn to shoot.  Do you think you could teach me?  I would pay you."  She'd never imagined that she would ask a boy to teach her to shoot, but her plan wouldn't work if she had no way to defend herself.

He studied her for a minute.  "Girls can't shoot.  It would have to be a lot."

Millie thought about what a fourteen year old boy would consider a lot.  "How about fifty cents?" 

His eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly.  "You got a gun?"

"No, and I don't want my husband to know about this, so would you buy one for me?  I'll give you the money."  She was certain with the way the mercantile owner felt about her, he'd never sell her a rifle anyway.  She took ten dollars from her purse and handed it to him.  "Is this enough?"

His eyes gaped, and he nodded.  "I'll go get it now.  Going to get you some ammunition too."

"Wait, before you run off, you need to at least tell me your name."  She didn't dare let him leave with her money without knowing his name.  What if he never came back?  She'd be out ten dollars.

"It's Louis.  Louis Stockton."

She nodded, watching as he ran off toward the mercantile.  He met her in the park ten minutes later with a gun and a small bag that he said was shells.  "Let's go to the woods.  I don't think it's a good idea for you to teach me out in the open like this."  Truly, with the luck she'd been having, she was certain that if she learned to shoot in town, she'd simply shoot a passerby. 

He walked toward the woods just outside of town.  "I got you a shotgun, because it's easier to aim.  You have so many pellets shooting out, it's hard to miss your target."

She nodded.  "That sounds smart."  She didn't want to miss her target, whether it was a bear or a deer.  She needed to be able to shoot well.

When they got to the woods, Louis showed her how to load the shotgun, explaining what each part of the gun was called, and then showed her how to aim and shoot.  She hated holding the gun, but knew if she was going to make it for any length of time up on the mountain, she'd need to be able to shoot. 

They practiced for several hours until she realized it was getting dark.  "I need to get home.  Do you think I'm ready to go out on my own?"  She watched him carefully, hoping that he'd say yes, but she was prepared to ignore him if he said no.

He made a face.  "I dunno, lady.  You probably need a few more lessons."

"Could I protect myself if I needed to?" she asked.  That was the bottom line for her.  If a bear was coming at her, could she shoot it and not die?

He nodded reluctantly.  "I guess so."

She took fifty cents from her purse and handed it to him.  "Thank you for the lesson."  She quickly walked back to the hotel after hiding her shotgun in the woods where it wouldn't be found.

She would leave after work the following day.  Poor Connor didn't need to have his reputation ruined by her 'help' for even another day.

Chapter Seven

Connor never asked where she'd been when she arrived home, and he didn't talk to her about what the men had said in the restaurant which surprised her.  When she rolled to him in bed that evening, she clung to him, wanting a beautiful experience to remember.  She loved Connor with all her heart and hated that she had to leave him, but his town was rejecting her, and his business was there.  She really had no choice.

Business was booming the following day.  She was astonished at the sheer number of people who came through, and served everyone with a forced smile.  It was hard to want to smile when she knew every one of them hated her and wanted her gone.

She had hidden a small carpet bag in the woods during the night.  It had her clothes and her shotgun in it along with a big jar of water.  Really, what else would she need?  She'd be living up in the mountains, and she'd have no problems living off nature.  Now that she could cook, it all seemed so terribly simple.  She should have thought of it sooner.

After work, she kissed Connor sweetly, clinging to him, and told him she was going for a walk. He nodded his eyes filled with passion for her.  "Be home before dark," he called after her.  She had an odd look on her face as she left, and he worried that she was up to something.

She walked away from him without looking back, certain she wouldn't be able to go if she glanced back over her shoulder at him.  He was wearing his usual outfit of pants, a button-up shirt, and a cowboy hat.  When she'd asked him why he always wore the cowboy hats, even though he wasn't a cowboy, he'd shrugged.  "I like them better than a chef's hat."

Millie couldn't argue with his reasoning.  When she got to the woods, she found her bag and looked out toward the mountain.  She knew she probably couldn't make it all the way to the mountain before dark, and she certainly couldn't try to climb the mountain after dark, so she'd have to spend one night sleeping outside. 

As she walked, she cried, thinking about how much she was going to miss Connor.  He'd been a good husband to her, even thought she wasn't the wife he'd sent away for, and she'd started their marriage with a lie.  Every little sound in the woods made her jump, afraid there was a bear or a mountain lion close.  She didn't even know what animals were indigenous to the area.  She wished she had a dog to accompany her, but she didn't. 

She reached the base of the mountain much faster than she'd expected, because she'd practically run through the woods.  She circled the mountain and found a small cave near the base, which she quickly decided would be her new home.  She slowly moved through the cave, looking for any animals that might be living in it, with her shotgun at her side.  How could she possibly make it through the night with as afraid as she was?

She went to the mouth of the cave and started a fire, thinking that would be the best way to scare off animals. It was chilly, and the fire gave off a nice warmth.  She opened her jar of water and took a drink before she realized she was hungry. What was she going to eat?  Living off the land sounded easy, but would she be able to actually do it?

She walked out of the cave for a moment having to squint into the setting sun.  She looked around for any edible plants, but she didn't really know which plants were edible.  She frowned.  Why had she assumed she would just find carrots and potatoes lying around ready for her to consume?

Millie knew she was going to have to shoot something, and she absolutely dreaded the idea.  How would she be able to shoot an animal and then ready it to cook?  Maybe she should have thought her plan through a little better.

She sat in the entrance to her cave for a moment.  Skipping supper sounded like a very good idea for that evening, and then she could get up early in the morning and worry about food then.  It wouldn't hurt her a bit to skip food for one night.

Leaning against the wall of the cave, she felt her eyes drooping.  Surprised that she was so tired, she moved back into the cave a bit further and laid down.  Why hadn't she thought to bring a pillow and something to use for a mattress. The hard cave floor wasn't pleasant. 

She'd had her eyes closed for less than a minute when she heard a commotion at the front of the cave.  Sitting up, she squinted into the darkness.  The fire gave off a little light, and she could see the shape of something towering at the entrance to the cave.  Reaching behind her, she groped for her shotgun, bringing it to her shoulder.

The gun was snatched from her hand.  "You're going to hurt someone with this!"  Connor stood over her, and he placed the shotgun against the wall behind him.  "Now tell me why you left me to come live in some cave."  He sat down beside her, not touching her, but very intent.  She could see by the dim firelight that he looked very sad.

She sighed.  "It wasn't so much that I left you as I left the town.  They...think I'm a troublemaker." She looked down at her hands.  Millie still couldn't believe anyone would think that of her.  She'd only tried to help.

Connor sighed.  "They did think that, yes, but I convinced them otherwise.  They know now that you were only trying to be helpful."  He reached out and patted her arm, thrilled that it hadn't been him to make her leave.  "Does that mean you didn't want to leave me?"  He had felt like a failure as a husband when he found out she'd left him, but he couldn't think of a thing that he'd done wrong.  He'd been beating himself up the entire way, trying to figure out how he'd failed her.

Millie threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his neck.  "Of course, I didn't want to leave you, but I didn't want to cause you any more trouble.  I was afraid that if I stayed, people would stop eating at the restaurant and stop being your friend."  She couldn't bear for him to be ostracized and have to go out of business just because people didn't like her.

His arms came around her and he stroked her back, a grin on his face.  "I have the only restaurant in town.  Of course they won't stop coming."    He was so happy that she hadn't wanted to leave him that he could barely contain it.

"I never thought of that."  She sighed, happy to have him with her again.  "When I got out here, I started looking for vegetation I could eat, and I realized, I didn't know what I could eat.  You didn't bring any food, did you?"  She was starving and couldn't help but hope he had thought of food.

Connor wanted to laugh, but knew it would hurt her feelings.  His pretty little wife always had the best intentions, but she didn't have the best grasp on how to make things work for her in reality.  "I brought a bag full of food."  He pulled away and looked down into her eyes.  "Would you like me to go get it?"  His eyes sparkled with laughter, but he asked the question with a straight face.

She nodded enthusiastically.  "I'm starving."

He got up and moved to the mouth of the cave, coming back with bread and butter and some ham.  He also pulled out a big jar of water.  He put it all on a plate for her and handed it to her.  "There."

"Thank you!"  Just before she bit into the sandwich, she asked, "How did you know I left so soon?"  She had expected him to realize she was missing when she wasn't home before dark.  It had never occurred to her he'd figure it out so soon.

"Well, Louis, the boy who taught you to shoot is the son of a friend of mine.  He came to me and told me you wanted to learn to shoot, but he wasn't supposed to tell me about it, which made me think something was happening."  He shook his head, thinking about how Louis had come to him.

"Mr. O'Reilly?" Louis has said as he'd popped into the restaurant on his way home from school.

"Yes?"  Connor had looked at the boy, wondering what he was doing there. They barely knew one another.

"That crazy wife of yours paid me to teach her how to shoot a shotgun, and said something about going out shooting on her own.  I'm worried she might be planning something that won't be good for her or anyone else in town."

Connor had nodded.  "I'm sure whatever she has planned, she means well."  He worried that it wouldn't go well either, but he wouldn't tell Millie that.  As hard as she tried, she did always seem to fall short.

"Yes, sir."  Louis left right after that, and Connor had gone to see if anyone knew where his wife was.

Coming back to the present, Connor said, "So then I left the restaurant to look for you. You weren't in our room, so I went to the front desk.  They said you'd been seen heading for the woods, so I found where you'd hidden your bag of clothes."  He rubbed the back of his neck.  "So I went back to the restaurant and packed a big bag of food, and put a sign on the door saying we'll be closed tomorrow, and then I came looking for you."  He shrugged.  It all seemed like a logical way of doing things to him.

"How do you know where I hid my bag?" she asked between bites of her food.  How could he possibly know something like that?

"You buried your things under some leaves, but that obviously changed the leaves in that part of the woods.  I could tell something had been hidden there, and I figured it was you, because you were the only one missing."  He shrugged.  "I walked through the woods, noticing where you'd snapped a tree branch here and there.  You left a nice little trail for me.  By the time I got to the base of the mountain, I could see your fire.  I just followed the smoke, and there you were." 

She swallowed the last of her sandwich.  "You're not mad?"  She knew she'd be mad if he'd taken off on her that way.

Connor shook his head.  "How could I be angry?  I knew you were doing it to help me."

Millie grimaced.  "Some help I am.  I heard the men in town complaining about me yesterday."

"I thought so."

"Why didn't you yell at me for messing so many things up?"  She really didn't understand him at all.

"I will never yell at you for having good intentions, and you are filled with good intentions.  Never have I met anyone who tried so hard to help others."  And did so badly at it, he added silently.  "Why don't you start coming to me when you want to help someone, and we'll plan out how to do it together?"  He could stop her craziest plans that way and quite possibly steer her in the right direction.

Millie nodded.  "Does that mean you want me to come back?"  She couldn't believe he wasn't happy to be rid of her.

Connor nodded.  "I can't let you go.  I love you too much."

She stared at him, astonished that he could say that.  "You love me?  Why would you love me?  I don't ever seem to do anything right."  She couldn't believe he would tell her that.  It couldn't possibly be the truth.

He pulled her to him, hugging her tightly.  "You do so many things right.  Do you know how happy I am it was you on that train and not your friend?  You make me laugh and bring me joy." 

"But she could cook!"  How could he be happy it was her and not Berta?  She knew Berta was the right wife for him.

He shrugged.  "So can you now. It only took me a couple of weeks to teach you, because you wanted to learn so badly.  If you had come here not knowing how to cook and told me that you weren't willing to try to learn, that would have been different.  You not only tried, but you succeeded.  You have several meals you can make now, and you do a good job with them."  He stroked her cheek softly.  "Every morning I'm thankful that you came into my life.  I love you, Millie O'Reilly."

Millie hugged him, sighing contentedly.  "I fell in love with you within minutes of getting off the train.  I knew you had to be the one I married.  I even wished that you would fall in love with me on the fountain in the park that day."  She grinned at the memory, happy the fountain had listened to her wish.

Connor smiled, kissing the top of her head.  "That was a good thing to wish for."  He looked around the cave and sighed.  "We're going to have to sleep here tonight."  He hated the idea, but there was no way to make it back to town in the dark.  It was just too dangerous.

She frowned.  "It's not very comfortable here."  She'd hoped they'd be able to go back instead of spending the night.

"We'll find a way to make it comfortable."  He left the cave for a moment and came back with an armful of pine needles that he dropped to the floor of the cave and left again.  He made three trips that way, putting the needles down almost an inch thick along the cave floor. 

Then he removed his clothes, piling them over the pine needles.  Once she saw what he was doing, she did the same, opening her bag and spreading out more dresses on top of it.  They each used a petticoat for a pillow, and she snuggled close to him.  "I'm so glad you came to find me.  I don't know what I would have done otherwise."  She had already been nearing panic mode, worrying about the strange noises she'd heard.

"I like to think you would have come home to me."  He shook his head.  "Why didn't you just catch a train back to Massachusetts?"  He didn't understand her thinking at all, and he probably never would.

"Because everyone would have assumed I made a mistake in marrying you then.  Getting on that train in Beckham was the best thing I've ever done."  She couldn't bear the idea of going home with her tail between her legs as if she'd made a huge mistake.  Marrying Connor had been a good thing for her, not a bad thing.

"So it was pride?"  Connor asked.

She sighed.  "Yes, it probably was.  I hate it when people tell me not to do something and it doesn't work out for the best.  It makes me crazy.  Berta was certain you'd hate me and send me right back home.  I couldn't go now, because she'd think she was right."  She was so happy Berta was wrong.  She was a good wife to him, no matter what Berta or any of the townspeople thought of her.

Connor stroked her back, sighing.  "Well, you're going to have to face the town when you go back tomorrow."

"I know."  She rested her head on his shoulder.  "You don't think we could just live here, do you?  It's a nice cave.  Very roomy."

"No, Millie, we really can't.  How would we make a living?"

"I haven't spent a lot of time thinking this through yet."

He laughed.  "I'll be right beside you when we go back to town.  I promise."  He closed his eyes. "We need to get some sleep.  We have a long walk ahead of us tomorrow."

Chapter Eight

Connor and Millie walked back to town hand in hand.  He carried her bag of clothes for her, and she carried the empty sack that had once held their food.  "I really don't want to have to face anyone," she said.  "They all think terrible things about me."  She could see the hotel from where she was and wondered if she made a run for it if she could be in their room before anyone caught up with her.

He shook his head.  "No, they really don't.  I gave them my opinion of how they've treated you, and they all agreed to be more understanding."  He still felt overwhelmed with anger when he thought about how the townspeople had talked to him about her as if she were an errant child.

"You did?  Really?" 

He nodded.  "When they all came into the restaurant, I told them that they hadn't given you a chance at all.  They were complaining about every little thing you have done since you got there, but I pointed out how hard you'd worked, and how you only ever had anyone's best intentions at heart."

"What did they say to that?" She wondered if they had been angry with him for standing up for her.

"I think they were all embarrassed to have complained that way.  They could see that you're a good loving woman, even though they all looked for the bad in you, you were looking for the good in them and always looking for ways to help them." He squeezed her hand tightly.  "I'm proud of the woman you are."

When they walked back into town, several of the people who lived along the main street came out of their houses to greet them.  The owner of the mercantile was the first to reach them.  "We're so glad you're all right," he said, squeezing Millie's arm.

Millie smiled.  "I'm sorry I messed up your display.  I really was just trying to help."  She didn't explain her reasons for reorganizing the shelves, because they suddenly didn't seem to matter.

He nodded.  "I know that now.  I wasn't very kind to you, and I'm sorry for that."

What surprised Millie the most was seeing John Bennett and Mary Sanders walking toward her, each of them holding the hand of one of her sons.  John smiled at Millie.  "We're getting married."

Millie looked back and forth between the two in shock.  "But..."  Didn't they hate each other?

John laughed.  "My Ma and her Pa were childhood sweethearts.  They had a big fight, and each ended up marrying other people.  We tried to court when we were both still in school, but our parents put a stop to it as fast as they could."

Mary nodded.  "My pa insisted that I marry William Sanders immediately, because he didn't want there to be any chance of me changing my mind.  He told me that John had two other girls he was courting at the same time, so I married William."

"And all I knew was that she'd married some other man within a week of telling me she loved me."  John shook his head.  "You got us to start talking that day.  Sure, we started out by yelling, but we ran into each other later, and really talked."  He slipped his arm around Mary's shoulders and hugged her to him.  "So now, thanks to you, I get a wife and two sons."

Millie was thrilled.  "I can't believe it.  I'm so happy for both of you!"  She wanted to shout from the rooftops that she really had done something good for the couple.  She wondered if anyone would even listen.

Mary smiled.  "We wanted you to be the first person we invited to the wedding."

"I would absolutely love to come!  When is it?" Millie asked, looking over at Connor who was grinning at her.

John shrugged.  "How 'bout right now?  I don't see a reason to wait."

"Oh, but then we can't have a big party afterward.  Connor could bake your wedding cake, and I could make a good meal for everyone there.  Please wait a few days."

Mary and John shared a look, both of them shaking their heads adamantly.  "If we wait, something else will go wrong," Mary told her.  "We have to do it now."  She leaned forward and whispered, "Before my pa finds out."

More than twenty people had gathered on the street to welcome Millie back to town and let her know that they wanted her there.  A boy of about fourteen ran ahead to tell the pastor to meet them at the church. 

Millie stood beside Mary while she said her vows, dashing happy tears from her eyes the whole while.  Now that she'd brought Mary and John together, everyone was sure to agree that her ideas were good and she was an asset to the town.  It only took one thing.

Millie couldn't have been happier for the couple, and she kept looking at Connor who acted as if he were the proud father of the bride, he beamed so much.  After the wedding, he invited everyone to the restaurant.  "I have several pies that I baked yesterday afternoon just waiting to be eaten."

They all hurried to the restaurant where Millie put on two pots of coffee and served pie to all the people.  Several people told her during the course of the makeshift party that they were "right glad" she'd ended up married to Connor and not her friend.  "Looks like you weren't a substitute bride after all."

Long after everyone had left, she kept those words in mind as she climbed the stairs to their room.  Connor had decided to do a bit of paperwork, while she went up to their room to write a letter to Elizabeth Miller. She sat with her back to the head of the bed and put her pencil to paper.  "Dear Elizabeth, I'm so glad you helped me to come out here and marry Connor.  I feel like I'm where God wants me to be.  I've done a lot of good in this small town already, and I know I can do more.  My heart is simply overflowing with love for my new husband, and I wanted to thank you once again.  Please keep in touch, and never stop the good you're doing.  Sincerely, Millie." 

Millie put the letter on the dresser to be mailed the following day.  Could life get any better?

When Connor joined her for bed, he brought up a subject that she'd wanted to discuss for a while, but hadn't wanted to make him feel like anything in her life was lacking.  "I just looked at our finances.  We have enough saved to buy a house.  It'll have to be a small house, but the Grimsley's just moved out of town, and their house is for sale."  He watched her face, hoping she'd e happy with the idea of a house.  He knew she didn't like living in the hotel.

Millie stared at him in shock.  "Really?  Do you mean it?"  She didn't complain about their lack of space in the hotel, but every day she dreamed of moving.  "I would love that!" 

He smiled.  "We'll talk to the estate agent about it tomorrow."

"Thank you!  A house is all I need to make my dream complete."  She couldn't believe he was even offering it to her.

"That's all?  You don't want...maybe a child?"  He winked at her.

Millie blushed.  "I think that's going to happen soon enough.  I'd love to have a child by this time next year."  Her hand went to her belly, thinking about how it would feel to have his child kicking inside her.

Connor smiled, climbing into bed beside her.  "I would like that as well."  He stroked her cheek with one finger.  "I got a letter from home yesterday.  My brother has decided to move to Idaho because of all the good things I've said about this place. He wants to help run the restaurant.  Would you mind?"  He quickly added, "Don't worry, he'll take our room in the hotel.  He won't live with us."

She smiled.  "That sounds wonderful.  Maybe we can take days off together occasionally if we have someone to help."

"I promise you, when he gets here, we'll start taking off at least one day every week.  We don't need to keep working this way with Sean coming."

She sighed happily, leaning against him. "Two months ago, I never would have dreamed I could be as happy as I am today."  She pressed her lips to his, suddenly thrilled with her life.  Her husband loved her.  The town loved her.  And she had a great many ideas for making everything around them better.  Life was going to get interesting very soon.