Page 6 of Mail-Order Millie (A Mail-Order Mystery #1)

Six

B ram dropped off the laundry at a service near downtown, then went to the hotel. Millie wasn’t there. Maybe she’d gone down to breakfast, and he didn’t see her when he came in.

Downstairs he checked with the man at the front desk. “Your wife had breakfast over an hour ago. Then she left,” he said.

Bram thanked him and hurried out the door. “Where could she be? And why would she leave the hotel? He scratched his head then it dawned on him. “The house.”

Bram took off at a good clip. If he was in her shoes, and woke up to no husband in her bed, he’d go looking for said husband too.

He hurried to Krantz’s house, saw that the front door was open, and went inside. “Millie?”

“In the kitchen,” she called back.

Bram sighed in relief then frowned. What was he worried about? No one knew he was undercover, and just as Jules said, his new bride was none the wiser. She’d found out where he lived and went looking for him, that’s all.

Bram smiled at the thought and headed for the kitchen. “Millie?”

She straightened and put a hand up to stop him. “I just mopped the floor. Don’t you dare track any dirt across it.”

Bram stood on the threshold to the kitchen, his hands up. “I’m staying put.”

“See that you do.” She wrung out the mop, picked up the bucket, and headed for the kitchen’s back door.

“What are you doing?”

“Dumping the dirty water, of course.”

“Let me do that for you.” He started after her.

She spun on her heel wagging a finger at him. “Stop!”

He stood, several feet from the threshold, one foot in the air. “Sorry.” He backed up. I’ll go out the front door and come around to you.” Bram hurried outside and met her at the back door. “Allow me.” He took the bucket, walked a few feet away, and dumped it. There was a pump near the back porch, so he rinsed and re-filled the bucket for her. “There. Now you have fresh water to work with.”

“Thank you.” She brushed loose wisps of hair from her face and stared at him. “Where are your spectacles?”

“Oh, um, I only need them for reading.” He plastered on a smile and tried to concentrate. She was so beautiful; it was making it hard to think. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if spending the next three days with her was such a good idea.

“Is something wrong?” she asked softly.

Bram closed his eyes. She had a sweet voice, and his chest warmed at the sound. “No,” he said and opened his eyes. “Is there something I can do to help you?”

She gazed at him, her eyes roaming over his body. “Have you gained weight recently? I found shirts in the dresser, but they look too small for you.”

Bram blinked in surprise. He’d forgotten to remove Krantz’s things! But with her sudden arrival, and having to deal with Krantz, inspecting the dresser or armoire hadn’t occurred to him. “Oh, um, yes,” he finally said. “I’ll need to get some new shirts. Nothing fits anymore.”

She nodded. “That explains things. Then I won’t bother mending them for you. Will you give them to the church? Preacher Barton asked if we’d come to Sunday service. We can ask if there’s a donation box.”

“Yes, of course.” Why was his heart hammering in his chest?

She turned, and he noticed the lovely curve of her neck, not to mention a few other curves. He shut his eyes tight. Hands off! She’s not yours, never will be.

Bram opened his eyes and watched her try to lift the bucket. “What are you doing?” he scolded. He picked it up. “Where do you want it?”

Her hands went to her hips, and she sighed. “Put it on the stove and we’ll let the water heat. I’m sure I’ll need it later.” She eyed him. “Wipe your feet before you step on that floor.”

Bram smiled. She was a feisty little thing. “Yes, ma’am.” He carefully tipped toed through the kitchen, trying to step on the dry spots, and put the bucket on the stove. “Would you like me to start a fire?”

“Could you? I noticed there’s some wood in the woodshed out back, but not much. Do you know where we might buy some?”

“I’ll see what I can find out. I’m still learning my way around.” He thought of her letter and where she was from. “Baker City must seem small to you.”

“Much smaller.” She smiled. “But I’ll get used to it. Boston seems so far away now…”

His mind raced over the letter she’d sent Krantz. It was short, to the point, telling him when she’d arrive. “Why did you become a mail-order bride?”

Her shoulders slumped. “My father… he… died.”

Bram closed the distance between them. “How, when?”

She stared at the floor. “He got shot, cheating at cards. He lived, but the wound never really healed. Eventually, he got an infection from it and died.”

Bram cringed. “All because he was cheating at cards?”

She looked up at him. “Yes. He was a gambler. He… ruined our lives.”

His heart went out to her. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do for the poor thing. Bram’s eyes widened. Oh no! A gambler?!

He caught the animosity in her eyes. “You hate gambling.”

“I abhor it.”

He fought the urge to clench his fists. This assignment kept getting better and better. After this he might never work in the field again.

“You don’t gamble, do you?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

He gulped. “I have on occasion, same as any man.” There, he hoped that was vague enough. He was going to have to rethink his strategy. But if he didn’t show up at the saloon where Krantz played cards, someone might start asking questions. Had he played with Charlie or Monty? Would they expect to see him there?

Millie eyed him. “Do you still gamble?”

He looked her in the eyes, closed the distance between them, and did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed her.