Millie knew she looked like a fish, the way her mouth had flopped open then closed. Earlier, she had seen Wes exchange a card with Ellen. Did he intend to make his way through every lady in the class before the week was over?
Anger washed over her, and one of her personal rules for conversation forbade speaking while upset. “Let me dismiss the class, then we can talk.” She swept away from him, the disappointment on his face leaving her with mixed feelings.
Her abrupt dismissal didn’t discourage Wes. After class, he waved good-bye as his friends exited, and remained at the door.
Ellen reached Wes first. After they exchanged a few words, she gestured for Millie to join them. Millie’s nose tilted in the air out of habit, but she quickly lowered it. She took her time joining them, taking leave of other girls and students along the way. Once she settled a practice time with Ruthie, Millie held her breath as she turned around to see whether either Mr. Wesley or Ellen remained waiting for her.
They both were waiting—with Mother. The conversation appeared pleasant, Mother not displaying any of the subtle signs of displeasure that Millie could recognize at this distance. Assuming a pleasant expression on her face, she crossed the floor to join them.
“A lady does not keep her escort waiting such an overlong time.” Mother had saved her scolding for her daughter.
What escort? “I needed to make arrangements with Miss Hasselblad for tomorrow.” Millie kept her smile in place. “Mr. Wesley, it was unnecessary for you to wait, for we already have a ride home.”
“Ah, but I await your answer. I’m afraid I told your mother that I had requested an opportunity for a promenade tomorrow afternoon.”
Millie’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Mother had opposed his invitation and solved her problem.
“She gave her permission, if you wish to accompany me.”
Ellen looked delighted at the news, in spite of her own upcoming outing with Mr. Wesley. With Ellen’s excitement, her mother’s permission, and Mr. Wesley’s open invitation, what could Millie say, except, “Shall I prepare for your visit at two in the afternoon?”
They made the arrangements and parted ways. On the way home, the air fairly shimmered with the things Ellen and Millie weren’t saying to each other. Why did Wes want to go with first Ellen, then Millie? Why did he have to be interested in her best friend?
For once, Millie was glad when Mother led the conversation, summarizing the high and low points of the lesson. She mentioned one humorous incident, and the friends giggled.
“Really, girls,” Mother huffed.
Both Millie and Ellen broke into laughter and the tension eased. Whatever was happening, the two of them would be able to talk through it.
When they dropped Ellen off at her house, Millie invited her to dinner in the most formal style possible. She hoped to deflect Mother’s suspicions, but Ellen’s eyes flew open in understanding.
“Unless you have other plans?” How long was her promenade with Mr. Wesley meant to last?
“I will gladly accept. If my mother says we have other plans, I will send word to you,” Ellen said.
Millie spent the afternoon in the study with Mother. Millie meant to write notes to thank each lady for her unique contribution. The first one she discarded because of an ink blot, and she stared at the next for five minutes without writing a word.
Instead of scolding, Mother left and returned with a tea platter and fresh apple. “I remember when you were a little girl that you loved apples in the autumn. You would ask me for apple dishes every day, until I thought I could never stand the sight of another apple.”
“Apple pie, of course. Apple cake, applesauce, apple raisin bread, apple crisp, apple butter…” The longer the list, the more her stomach rumbled.
“Stop! Before you demand fried apples for dinner.”
Millie took the apple, a new variety in an inviting shade of red with hints of gold and green. Before she took her first bite of crisp goodness, she polished it with her napkin. The taste made her moan with pleasure. The tea with its hint of honey added the perfect complement to the apple. After she drained her tea, she dabbed her mouth.
Mother smiled. “You ate that apple the same way you did as a child.”
Millie squirmed. If she didn’t want to be treated like a child, she shouldn’t act like one.
Mother didn’t notice her squirming; instead, she looked out the window at the tree leaves changing colors. “Life is like the seasons, isn’t it? I loved Boston. I always will. When I left, I never expected to find another apple that I could enjoy nearly as much as a McIntosh.”
Millie nodded.
“But then God brought us here. I am slowly accepting that this is a new season. An apple can be different but enjoyable. Don’t let the past rob you of your future, my dear daughter. Remember that as you finish your class.”
Was Mother expressing approval of the men in her class? Her change of mind added a new twist to Millie’s dilemma.
Wes waited outside Bertha Babcock’s boardinghouse until T-Bone escorted Ellen to meet him. As T-Bone assisted Ellen from the carriage, Wes sensed a spark of interest between them.
Ellen sprang toward Wes before she remembered herself and turned around to thank T-Bone. His face turned a shade darker. “My pleasure, Miss Harper. Happy to oblige, anytime.”
Yes, the cook was definitely smitten. How did Ellen feel? Wes took Ellen’s arm, and they strolled down the sidewalk. “How long do you intend to keep up this charade?” she asked. “If I continue to accept rides from Mr. Robinson, my parents will think we’re courting.”
Wes cleared his throat. “Speaking of that—I believe T-Bone is smitten with you. Should I discourage him?”
“T-Bone?” Ellen shook her head. “Oh, like a steak. You told me that he was your cook. Maybe he would cook my meals.” She stopped her laughter. “He is pleasant company, but I don’t know him well enough. Half of my friends believe they are in love, even Ruthie Hasselblad, who is the most levelheaded girl I know. Maybe I could fall in love with Mr. Robinson, someday. But right at this second, I am only open to the possibility.”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “But enough about me. Now that you have met Millie, what do you think?”
The expected question lacked an answer. “She is lovely enough to arouse love at first sight. Beautiful enough to inspire a moonlight serenade.”
Ellen lifted her face to see him more fully. “You do care for her. That sounds like one of your letters.”
Had Millie shared his intimate letters with her? The thought made him shiver.
“Don’t worry. She read me a poem or two. I did tell her that you liked poetry and music.” Ellen hesitated. “Maybe that’s how you can let her know who you are. Give her the music for one of your songs and ask her to sing it at the dance.”
Fear froze Wes. He wasn’t prepared to risk it all. “I still don’t know what she thinks of plain old Wes Harper, cowhand.”
“You’re not giving her enough credit. She might be more upset about the deceit than your occupation. You need to let her know, soon.”
But how? “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“So Millie said some foolish things. She may regret them, now that she’s come to know the men in the class. Even Mrs. Cain’s attitude is changing.”
Ellen’s words discouraged Wes even more. He blamed Millie for her worldly view about appearances, but lying was just as bad. In fact, it sat right up there, number nine on the list of the ten big ones.
“Pray with me about it, will you?” As he walked back to the boardinghouse, the verse, If anyone lacks wisdom, ask God, pricked Wes’s brain. As soon as he reached his room, he dug out his Bible. The verse was right where he expected to find it, in the fifth verse of the first chapter of James: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.”
A simple idea. Lack wisdom, ask God, and He’ll give it—liberally. And the best part—without scolding. “That’s me, God. I messed up. Show me how to show Millie who I am, inside and out.” He stopped for a minute, wondering if he had the right to give God a timetable. “I’d like to let her know soon, Lord, so if You could show me the answer before the class ends, I’d appreciate it.”
No answers popped into Wes’s head, but he slept better than since his arrival in Wichita. Before he slept, he lay in bed, humming a melody softly, one that pulled together bits of his favorite hymns and an old cowboy song or two into something uniquely his. When he awoke early in the morning, he was sure of his next step. He would write a song and present it to Millie to perform at the dance. If she didn’t recognize him in his music… she didn’t know Wes at all.
In fact, when he hummed the tune he had composed last night, he had the words to the first line.