Page 14 of Mail-Order Millie (A Mail-Order Mystery #1)
Fourteen
A t home, Millie puttered around the house and worked on the dining room. She put up the new curtains, ironed the new tablecloth and spread it on the table, then took an inventory of what they still needed. They hadn’t had a chance to do any more shopping, and she figured it was best to wait anyway. She hadn’t discussed money with Bram yet, and didn’t know how he handled his. She didn’t know if he had money saved, or if he owned land or property anywhere. How many living relatives did he have? For Heaven’s sake, she didn’t even know if he had any siblings.
She sat at the dining room table, a frown on her face. Her new husband had been so busy they hadn’t had time to have a decent conversation. And what was he doing out at the Double K that took so long? Surely Bram and Mr. Kameyer weren’t going over the ranch’s books this whole time?
Millie left her chair and paced. Why would Charlie come fetch Bram to the ranch, anyway? Oh, right. “Because Mr. Kameyer is particular,” she said in a low voice. She sighed and retook her chair. She was bored and wondered if she should eat then take an evening stroll.
Millie fixed herself something for dinner, did the dishes, then went into the bedroom and looked at the rickety bed. Bram insisted it wouldn’t hold both of them and had to be replaced. Well, fine. Now if he’d stop forgetting to order a new one, they could finally share a bed as husband and wife.
Out of pure frustration, she kicked the bed, stubbing her toe in the process. “Ouch!” She sat on the bed to rub her foot. The frame creaked and groaned, and she had to admit, Bram was right. The bed might not hold their combined weight.
She rubbed her foot through her shoe and to distract herself, wondered what sort of curtains would look good in the bedroom. She’d spent most of her time working on the kitchen and parlor, and today the dining room. She hadn’t done much of anything in here.
Millie left the bed and opened the armoire. She’d dusted it before she hung up her new dresses, but wondered if she shouldn’t give it a good polishing.
She bent to the drawer at the bottom and opened it. There were more old shirts of Bram’s and a cigar box. She picked it up, opened it, and gasped. “What the…?”
She pulled out different folded pieces of paper. Several of which had IOU written on them, followed by a sum of money.
Millie dropped them like they were spiders and slammed the lid shut. “No.” She got to her feet. “No, it can’t be.”
She shut her eyes and forced herself to think. “He’s holding IOUs so someone owes him money?” Millie’s hand flew to her mouth. What did it matter? Bram was gambling!
Her other hand went to her mouth to stifle a sob. How could he?!
Millie let her hands drop and took a deep breath, then another. “Don’t panic, it might not be what you think.”
She knelt on the floor and picked up the cigar box again. “Maybe they’re old.” She dumped the contents on the floor and picked out all the IOUs. She found a few notes about money Bram owed different men. The amounts and names written not only on the IOUs, but in a small notepad. “Ever the bookkeeper,” she muttered. Millie looked at the notepad more closely. “This isn’t Bram’s handwriting,” she mused aloud. “If it’s not his, then whose is it?”
She leafed through the notebook, and saw more names, including the names of towns and cities. “Don’t tell me this is a list of all the places you’ve gambled.” Tears stung the backs of her eyes as she perused the list. “Oh, no. Please, not Bram. I can’t lose anyone else to gambling, I just can’t!”
Heartbroken, she tossed the notebook back in the box, shoved it into the drawer, and closed it.
Millie got to her feet, her heart in her throat, and did her best not to cry. She sat on the bed, ignoring the creaking springs, and stared at the wall. A familiar numbness took hold, and she wasn’t sure what to do. She’d been married two weeks, and they’d been the best two weeks of her life. In part because she now had a life . One she could call her own and direct where she wanted it to go.
Or so she thought.
Millie shut her eyes against the tears that threatened. Father’s gambling had destroyed everything she held dear, and she had to go and marry a man just like him!
She left the bed. “No!” she shook her head. “I won’t go through that again. I won’t!” For lack of a better idea, she stomped her foot in defiance.
But for all her bluster, the tears still came, and soon she found herself face down on her pillow unable to stop the flood of disappointment and anger that gripped her.