Free Brides of Iowa by Connie; Stevens

doesn’t change anything, and it’s my fault you got fired. Please allow me to help you find another job.”
    Words failed her. Never in all of her nineteen years had she ever seen a man apologize for anything, much less for losing his temper. Twice now Gideon had sprung to her defense. Her eyes remained riveted on his face, and the words she wanted to speak refused to line up in the right order.
    “I … It … it wasn’t … your fault. I … I—”
    Gideon grasped both her hands. “Did he hurt you? Is your arm all right?”
    Lucidity finally made its way back to her brain. “Yes.”
    “Yes, he hurt you?”
    “No, he didn’t hurt me, and yes, my arm is all right. Gideon, why?” Her hands seemed to not have a purpose. She clasped them together and held them to her chin. “
Why
did you get angry? Why did you grab him? I’m not worth your trouble.”
    Gideon jerked his head up, his eyes darkened. “Don’t say that, Tessa. You shouldn’t believe those things your father told you. You’re a lady, and I will never stand idly by while a lady is treated disrespectfully.” The anger on his face softened. “And besides that, you’re not just any lady. You’re … well, you’re special.”
    His face flushed crimson. Perhaps he didn’t mean to say what he’d just said. Maybe, like her, he had a hard time putting words together when he was upset. At any rate, his hangdog look spoke volumes. He regretted what happened—but did he regret defending her, or was he just sorry she’d lost her job?
    “Well, thank you, Gideon. Don’t worry. Something will work out. Mama always said tomorrow will be brighter.”
    He gave her a tiny smile, lifted his fingers in a half wave, and walked away.
    She turned and walked toward the shed. Maybe Mr. Kilgore wouldn’t care if she stayed there tonight. She hadn’t planned on having to look for a new place to live so soon.
    She turned the corner at the end of the alley and stopped short. Stuck in the door handle of the shed was a bouquet of daisies. They looked rather forlorn and slightly wilted, but they seemed to echo Gideon’s words. She was worth something, even if it was just a bunch of wildflowers.
    If they were from Gideon, it meant he knew where she was living, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. She reversed her direction and trotted down the alley to see which way Gideon had gone.
    Just as she reached the boardwalk, Mr. Kilgore stepped out the front door of the hotel. “Ah, there you are.”
    What did he want? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good.
    “I suppose you’ve learned your lesson. In fact, I wondered if you had given any more thought to my previous offer. If you can’t manage to serve tables efficiently in the dining room, maybe you’re better suited to a different type of establishment. You know, standing around and flirting with my clients at the Blue Goose might make you one of the favorites over there. They like it when the girls are nice to them. What do you say?”
    Her mouth dropped open at his audacity, and she snapped it shut before she said something she’d regret. Did he expect her to lick his boots for telling her she could work serving whiskey? Besides, according to Tillie and Flossie, the girls who worked at the saloon did more than just serve drinks. Tessa didn’t want to think about what other duties they might have to perform. Maybe the kind of work Mr. Kilgore suggested was the best she could be, but the unceasing tug on her heart reminded her that Gideon thought her to be a lady. She took a deep breath and met Mr. Kilgore’s icy eyes. “No, Mr. Kilgore. I will not work in your saloon. Good day.”
    She started to go around him, but he stretched out his hand to stop her. Her feet froze, and she glared at his hand touching her arm, then up at his face, and back down at his hand.
    Mr. Kilgore lifted his hand from her arm and held it slightly aloft, scorn coloring the sneer on his face. With methodic motion, he splayed his