Chapter 3

Millie put the food bowl in the kennel and then went to get fresh water. After filling the container, she went back to her prized pup. "Eat up, Bob. We're going to be busy in a few days, and you'll need your strength." She smiled. The dog was something special. Yes, her father made fun of her attachment to the animal, but she didn't care.

Bob had an uncanny ability to know when she needed an extra lick or two. Not to mention, he had beaten every dog in the state when it came to pointing out birds. His one big downfall was his love for chickens. She'd been embarrassed on a couple of occasions when Bob had come home with somebody's laying hen in his mouth. Millie had yet to break him of the annoying habit.

"You baby that dog too much." Fritz startled her with his gruff statement. "You'll ruin him." He walked by Bob's kennel and scowled. Bob growled at him.

"Get away from me, Fritz, and stay away from Bob. He doesn't like you, which proves to me he can also point out people of ill character." She glared at him. Father had brought him home to entice her to marry the man. Yet from the beginning, she'd disliked Fritz.

Not that he wasn't handsome and rugged. But Fritz annoyed her with his love of Germany and the mountains of his hometown. He had nothing good to say about Colorado, the United States, or anything she liked. The Fatherland, as he called it, was perfect.

Fritz sneered. "I know dogs, and I know how to make them work. You do not. Our ways in Germany are the best." He huffed at her with little intent on hiding his contempt.

"Why don't you go back to your beloved Germany? I, for one, am sick of hearing about it." She turned away from him and started for the house.

Fritz caught her arm and whirled her around to face him. "I'm sorry. Actually, I came out here to ask you to the Hightower's Ball this weekend. I am an excellent dancer."

She stared into his blue eyes. They were glacial blue, and she thought them chilling even though she had to admit they were pretty to look at. She turned away. "I am going to the dance, but I will go alone. You can ask to check my card, and I may share a dance with you." Millie had to admit that Fritz was a handsome man. Tall, he had an attractive face, although he usually fixed it in such a stern manner.

Fritz smiled at her. Although there was no pleasantness in his expression. It was more of a look of possession, as if she were one of his dogs in the kennel.

Millie shook her head. She needed to find a man she liked, and then she looked down at her attire and had to laugh. No wonder there wasn't a man around who took her seriously. It was a wonder Fritz even gave her a second look.

She wore her father's fur-lined trousers, her big buffalo coat, and the hunter's cap. Millie decided to go shopping tomorrow to buy herself some new clothes. Like it or not, she was getting older, and it was time to find a good man to settle down with. She'd not do it looking like a mountain girl.

She threw a backward glance over her shoulder. Fritz was not the man she would consider marrying. How Father could think he might be was beyond her. She wanted a man who would respect her and value her. Fritz seemed to be under the impression that women were little better than livestock.

She muttered to herself as she walked into the house.

Father looked at her. "Is something wrong?"

She hadn't seen him and jumped. "Sorry, I was just wondering how you would ever think Fritz was someone I would be interested in."

"Well, he likes dogs and enjoys hunting."

She rolled her eyes. "That's it?" Apparently, Father knew less about women than Fritz did. Although he had made Mother happy. Preston. He was the one that could make her happy. If only. Yet, how many years could she dream about a life before she began living it?

Father frowned. "You love the dogs and working with them. Fritz is a nice, honest man. I'm happy with the work he's done for us."

"He is not a man I would consider marrying." She frowned and sat down. "I really can't believe you would think he is good for me. He never treats me with respect or compassion." Millie shook her head. "With the Hightower Ball coming up, I need to buy some new clothes."

Father puffed on his pipe and looked at her with concern. "I am surprised about your thoughts on Fritz. Perhaps it is a difference of cultures." Then he smiled at her. "I was wondering when you'd get the idea men might not want a wife dressed like a mountain man."

Millie had to laugh. "You're right. Time for me to grow up."

"Just be aware, when you dress the part, you might be surrounded by men wanting to marry you. I'd suggest you start praying for the man of your dreams."

"Do you think God cares who I marry?"

Father bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Yes, He does. Trust me and ask Him to show you."

Millie grinned. "Nothing else has worked. I guess I can try asking the Lord. As long as He doesn't point out Fritz."

"Fritz is a good man, even if you two argue like cats and dogs." He gave her a sly smile. "It could be a sign that you are just right for one another. He's not done anything to harm you, has he?"

"No. He's just rude. I hope he's not the man for me." She stood and kissed her father's cheek. "I better get ready for dinner."

"Carla is fixing her famous stroganoff. Fritz is dining with us tonight." Father chuckled.

Millie rolled her eyes. It was bad enough to see Fritz working with the dogs during the day, but to have to endure dinner with the man was intolerable. She stopped at the doorway and turned toward her father. "Has Preston Chadwick returned from Boston?"

Father tensed. "I haven't heard. Not that I would care for anyone from that family. I know Frank was in trouble with the law. I don't know what he did, but that boy is headed for jail or a hangman's noose."

"I was asking about Preston."

Father nodded. "I know. I just don't want you involved with the Chadwicks. Jeremiah is a hard man, and I want you to be happy."

"Yes, Father. I better get cleaned up, or Carla will be angry." Millie ran up the stairs to her room. The feud between her father and Jeremiah Chadwick was apparently ongoing. She'd played with Preston and his sisters as a girl. Ernst was too old and Frank too young, but she got along with the other three.

Until that day when everything exploded, and her father and Jeremiah declared war on one another. They'd been partners in their gold mine. Millie was never quite sure what happened, but from that day forward, she was not allowed to play with the Chadwicks.

She sighed. Even though Father forbade it, she would meet Preston when she'd take her dogs for walks in the forest. Then Preston went to Boston. She still thought about him fondly, but he'd abandoned her without a word and never sent her a letter.

She sighed and sat on her bed. "There is no reason to even think of that man." She struck Preston off her list of potential husbands. He could have written to her. She put on her skirt, secured the belt, and buttoned her blouse. If Preston did return, he would probably have his nose in the air and a Boston woman on his arm.

Millie brushed her hair, glanced at the mirror, and was happy with her results. Not that she wanted to impress Fritz. Or Preston. Why had she even thought about that man? A crooked grin caught her lips. Preston had always had her heart. She shook her head and admitted it. Soon would be the moment of truth. When she saw Preston, she would know.