скачать книгу бесплатно
As Mrs. Heaton’s maids, Gretchen and Maida, began to serve the meal, Millicent tried to put her and Matt’s differences out of her mind and concentrate on the wonderful dishes being passed around.
“How was the ball game?” their landlady asked, guiding the conversation to a safe subject. Mrs. Heaton seemed to have a way of quieting any disturbance between her boarders almost before it began.
“It was great,” Matt said. “Our Giants won by one point in the last play of the game.”
“They did a bang-up job!” Stephen added.
“Oh, Millicent, I forgot to tell you—Elizabeth telephoned and asked me to remind you about having Sunday night supper with them tomorrow,” Mrs. Heaton said.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” Millicent smiled at her landlady. “I’m looking forward to it. She said they want to talk to me about something but didn’t say what.”
“Maybe they want you to take more photos of one of the apartments in the tenements,” Julia suggested.
“They might. It’s been a while since I took any for them.” She’d been blessed when Elizabeth and John, one of the couples who used to live at Heaton House before they married, asked her to take photographs for some articles they were doing. It’d brought her some much-needed business and continued to do so now. But it still wasn’t enough that she felt she could open her shop yet.
Matt handed her a basket of rolls and smiled at her, as if asking, Are we okay now? She sighed, raised an eyebrow and smiled back, trying to let him know that if he didn’t bring up the topic of the meeting again, neither would she.
But as she took the basket from him and their fingers brushed, what she wished for most was to quiet her suddenly racing pulse. Why did this man have the ability to do that to her? He was very nice looking—with his almost black hair, sky-blue eyes and smile that showed even, white teeth. But he also could make her more frustrated than anyone else. She’d felt that way ever since the first night she’d moved in, when he’d made clear he disapproved of any woman wanting to open her own business.
He’d brought Robert Baxter to mind, the man she’d almost become engaged to. That was, until she’d seen his true side and realized all he wanted was someone to take care of his needs. From that time on, she’d decided she’d be better off making a living for herself than giving her heart to a man with no interest in her ideas and opinions. A man who thought his word was law. She was so glad she’d seen through Robert and never accepted his proposal.
Matt’s attitude and that reminder seemed to have set the tone for their relationship from the first—in spite of any fleeting attraction she felt for him. And over time, when the topics they disagreed on weren’t brought up, they managed to get along for the sake of Mrs. Heaton and the other boarders.
Millicent hoped that would continue—but perhaps it was better to be reminded of her resolve to not fall in love, in order to keep on guard when Matt did something to make her heart flutter.
As dinner came to an end, Millicent found she wasn’t in the mood to spend time in the parlor with everyone. She didn’t want to take the chance of another argument. “I think I’m going on up tonight. I’m kind of tired. ’Night, all,” she said as she headed out the door. But Matt stopped her with a hand on her arm before she got to the staircase.
“May I speak with you a moment, Millicent?”
“What about? I don’t—”
“Don’t worry. It’s not about the meeting.”
“Oh? What is it, then?”
“John went to the game with us this afternoon and asked me to come to Sunday night supper at their place, too. Said he might need my help on something.”
“I wonder what they want to talk to us about.”
“I don’t know, but I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow. I thought I’d offer to escort you over. Seems silly not to go together and there’s no need in having Joe or Stephen escort you when we’re both invited.”
Her heart gave a little flip. She didn’t think they’d ever gone anywhere, just the two of them. But someone would have to escort her anyway—it was one of Mrs. Heaton’s hard-and-fast rules. The female boarders must go in a group or have an escort if they went out at night.
At first Millicent thought her rule a bit old-fashioned—it was nearing the turn of the century after all. But then she’d found out Mrs. Heaton’s daughter had gone missing and that was the reason she’d started the boardinghouse to begin with—so young women would have a safe homelike place to live. Thankfully, Mrs. Heaton and her daughter had been reunited, but the edict remained in place. She must have an escort.
“Oh, I... Yes, you’re right. Thank you for your offer.”
“You’re welcome. John said six-thirty, so I’ll meet you in the parlor at six, if that time works for you?”
“That will be fine. Good night.”
“’Night, Millicent.”
Millicent turned and hurried upstairs. What could John and Elizabeth possibly want to talk to the two of them about?
* * *
The next evening Millicent came downstairs and entered the parlor to find most of the boarders gathered waiting to be called to supper. Apparently, Matt hadn’t come up from the men’s quarters yet, and she felt quite proud of herself for being ready before him.
She’d chosen a brown skirt with pleated ruffles on each side, a green-and-brown bodice trimmed in green ribbon and a short green jacket to complete the outfit.
“Millicent, you’re all dressed up. Are you going out?” Emily asked.
“Yes, I am. Remember, I’m going to the Talbots’ tonight.”
“Oh, that’s right. We’ll miss your company,” Stephen said. “Do you need an escort?”
“No she doesn’t,” Matt answered from behind her, something in his tone sending her heart pounding. “I’m escorting Millicent tonight, as I’ve been invited to dinner, too.”
He looked quite striking in a brown suit, cream shirt and brown-and-cream tie. Matt worked as a foreman on a high-rise building that once finished would be the tallest in the city. Normally he hurried home in his work clothes to change into nicer pants and a clean shirt. That attire always seemed to emphasize the broadness of his shoulders—but in his Sunday suit, they seemed wider still, and Millicent fought down the fluttery feeling his presence quite often brought her.
“You ready to go, Millie?”
She’d let him know the first time he ever shortened her name that she wanted to be called Millicent only. But it hadn’t stopped him. In fact, she was certain he did it just to get a reaction out of her.
“I’ve been ready and waiting for several minutes.”
He grinned, as if he knew she was irritated with him, but he didn’t apologize, only crooked his arm and said, “Then let’s get going. We don’t want to be late, do we?”
She fought to keep from showing her vexation. That was exactly what he wanted her to do, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction—not here in front of the new boarders. She took his arm and gave him a smile. “Of course not. Let’s be on our way.”
But as soon as they were out of sight from any of the boardinghouse windows, she disengaged her hand and looked straight ahead as they made their way to the trolley stop.
“Did I say something to upset you, Millie?”
“Why, no, Matty, whatever would make you think that?”
He threw back his head and laughed, causing her to expel a breath of frustration. But his laughter was contagious and Millicent giggled in spite of herself—frustrating her to no end. They had the oddest relationship ever. One minute he had her laughing with him, the next he said something that tempted her to wallop him over the head with her parasol—or anything else within range. They reached their stop a few minutes early and she hoped they could make it through the evening without him irritating her to that point.
Their trolley arrived and Matt motioned Millicent on first, then followed her up the aisle, taking a seat beside her once she’d slid over by the window. She pretended to be looking at the scenery outside while trying to relax before they arrived at the Talbots’. It did no good to let Matt get under her skin—doing so only served to frustrate her further.
It was a beautiful September evening. Not too cool yet, with only a light breeze, making her glad she had a jacket on. If she didn’t already know she and Matt were totally wrong for each other, she’d be thrilled with the opportunity to spend this time with him without the others around.
“How is the quest to open your business going?” Matt asked.
His question surprised her. Matt rarely showed any interest in her profession, and she wasn’t going to pass up the chance to talk about it. She loved being a photographer.
“Actually, quite well. After taking wedding photographs of Luke and Kathleen, John and Elizabeth, and Ben and Rebecca, word is getting around, and I have several weddings booked this month. I’m thankful my business is growing. I’m hoping to find the right place for a studio before long.”
“That’s good news, I suppose. You do take very good pictures.”
What was going on with him? He’d never complimented her about her photographs or anything else she did. “Why, thank you, Matt. It’s something I love to do. I’d be taking photographs even if I never got paid for it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I would. But since I do need to support myself, I might as well be in charge instead of working at a position I don’t like.”
He gave a little nod. “I suppose I can understand that. It’d be awful to have to work at a job I hated.”
“Are you saying we might have something in common after all, Matt?”
Matt laughed. “Oddly enough, I think we might.”
Their trolley came to a stop and they hurried out into the aisle, Matt blocking the people from behind until Millicent made it out in front of him.
He crooked his arm once more and raised an eyebrow as if challenging her to take it. The way she’d felt when they first got on the streetcar would have her ignoring the polite custom, but there was no need to start their visit with friends on bad terms. She took his arm and they headed down the residential street to the Talbots’.
John opened the door wide for them to enter. “Come in, you two. We’ve been watching for you.”
“I hope we aren’t late,” Matt said. “If so, it’s entirely my fault.”
“No, you aren’t late,” Elizabeth said from behind her husband. “You’re right on time. It’s wonderful to see you both.”
She led them into the parlor and Millicent noticed the brass bowl the boarders all had chipped in to buy their friends for their housewarming party. It held a nice fern and sat in the bay window. “Your home is as cozy as Heaton House, Elizabeth.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “I must say I admire how Mrs. Heaton makes it feel like a true home for all who live there. Much of my decorating skills, such that they are, came from seeing how she arranged things and the little touches she added. Let me just go dish things up and we’ll be ready to eat very soon. Come keep me company, Millicent. John, you and Matt can take your seats now if you wish.”
The ladies soon returned and began placing dishes in the dining room.
“We took the table’s leaves out to make it a bit smaller, so that it has a more intimate feel when we’re dining with only a few guests. Most nights John and I take our meals in the kitchen, so it feels like a real event when we eat in here,” Elizabeth said as she took her seat at the end of the table nearest the kitchen. John seated his wife while Matt pulled out a chair for Millicent before taking the one across from her.
John said the blessing and began serving the roast chicken his wife had prepared. Once they were all served, Matt turned to John. “Now tell us, what it is you want to discuss with Milli—cent and me?”
Millicent was surprised at his effort not to call her Millie. Lately he’d begun to use it even more, and she appreciated his restraint at the moment.
“As you know there’s been a couple of near-fatal accidents to others working on your building in the last few months.”
Millicent’s stomach clenched. Matt never mentioned anything about those accidents—at least not in her presence.
“I do. And there were several less serious ones last week. Thankfully, no one was badly hurt, although it could have been disastrous if their harnesses hadn’t held them. Are you doing an article about the accidents for the Tribune?”
Because of the articles he and Elizabeth worked on, him for the New York Tribune and her for the popular ladies magazine the Delineator, describing the appalling conditions of the tenements, John had recently become one of the paper’s top reporters. He shook his head. “Not an investigative piece so much as informative one. Many people aren’t aware of how dangerous it is to build those sky-touching buildings you love to work on. I’m hoping my boss will get your supervisor’s permission for me to do a series of articles on the building. He wants me to write about how these high-rises are built and the danger in working on them. It’d be great publicity.”
“So what is it you’re thinking of doing?”
“I’d like to be able to go floor to floor and interview the workers, see for myself how dangerous it is and—”
“Elizabeth, aren’t you worried about that?” Millicent found herself interrupting.
“About John going up so high? Not really. I feel if they get behind the article, they’ll keep him away from the really dangerous areas.”
“I’m sure we would,” Matt said. “But what do you need me to do? I’m not the boss. I can’t give you permission.”
“I know. But should he bring it up to you, should he want to know what you and the men under you think about it, I’d like you to give me a good word.”
“You’ll have it.”
John nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“But how does any of this have anything to do with me?” Millicent asked. “Or is there something different you want to talk to me about?”
“Not really different,” Elizabeth said. “You take such wonderful photographs—you tell her, John.”
“My editor at the paper asked if we could talk you into being the official photographer for the articles. Elizabeth is going to do a different take for her articles for the Delineator—more of a human-interest piece on what the families of these men think about the work they do. Our articles about the tenements were received so well, our editors love the idea of doing the different kinds of views of the Park Row Building and we’re really excited about it.”
“What kind of photographs will you be wanting me to take?”
“You’d need to take the ones you feel would best illustrate the stories we want to write.”
“What do you think, Millicent?” John asked. “We know you don’t like heights, but you are the best photographer we know and we didn’t even have to bring your name up. You’ve been asked to come in with us. Will you do it?”
Millicent let out a deep breath. There was no doubt in her mind this could be the opportunity she’d been waiting for. But why did the chance of a lifetime have to involve her going to the top of what would be the tallest building in the city—the very thing that paralyzed her with fear?
“Even if you get permission to go up, John, I’m not sure my supervisor would ever agree to letting Elizabeth and Millicent up where the men are working. And with Millicent’s aversion to heights—”
“Oh, surely when he knows she’s the one the Tribune trusts to do the job—”
Matt shrugged.
“We won’t know until he’s asked. I’ll make my decision then,” Millicent said decisively. “At least I have time to think it over.”
“The color drained out of your face at the thought of it now.” Matt glanced over at John. “There’s no need to put her through—”
“It’s Millicent’s decision to make, don’t you think, Matt?” John asked.
“Of course it is.” Matt shrugged again. “It may be a moot point anyway. I just don’t see how having a woman on the job is going to happen.”
Not if he had any say about it, Millicent was sure of that. And that attitude irritated her. If the opportunity to do this photo shoot came about, she’d pray and ask the Lord to ease her fear, at least long enough to get the job done. One thing she knew for sure. She certainly wasn’t going to let Matt’s opinion keep her from trying.
Chapter Two (#ulink_e0567ce7-7407-5a23-b016-57527a9cc971)
By the time Millicent and Matt left Elizabeth and John’s, she had a raging headache. After their friends told them they’d be in touch once John’s editor gave them the go-ahead on the articles, they’d played a few games of charades after dinner. But Millicent could think of little else than what she would do if Matt’s supervisor said yes. Now on the trolley back home, she rubbed her temple and closed her eyes.
“You know,” Matt began, “you don’t have to say yes to this, Millicent. I realize it’s a good opportunity, but I also know how emphatic you’ve been about your fear of heights. If you don’t want to—”
“Matt, John’s articles are probably going to make the front page, and the exposure of my photos could bring in enough business that I could finally open my shop.”
“What if you agree and then find you can’t...do it? What will that do for your reputation?”
