“Go to the devil!” she yelled, and turned over to face the wall. And cried a lot more.
Chapter Thirteen
“We’re so happy you’re home, Violet.” Sophie sat beside her on the blanket. They were on an outing in the park, a few of the younger girls picking wildflowers. But their favorite park didn’t have wildflowers. She tried to tell them that, but no one was listening to her. One of her cousins reached into a picnic hamper and asked her, “D’you want crumpets or cat meat?” Appalled, Violet looked around, expecting to see a cougar, but saw Lord Elliott approaching instead. He looked so handsome in riding jodhpurs and holding a crop. All the girls gathered around him excitedly. He kissed Sophie’s hand, patted each of the younger girls on the head, then glanced at Violet and raised his nose a little higher in the air and walked on. He was snubbing her?! Sophie stopped giggling long enough to say, “He heard you’re a pauper now. Shame on you, Vi, for letting that happen.” Violet burst into tears and started throwing carrots at Elliott’s retreating back. But Elliott must have forgiven her, because suddenly she was dancing with him in a beautiful ballroom, laughing at his clever quips. Everything was right with the world again until he pulled away from her, looking horrified: “A snake is slithering out of your reticule!”
It was the snake that woke her. She looked around frantically for a moment to make sure there wasn’t one with her in the bed that had wormed its way into her dream—nightmare was more like it. She shuddered briefly once she was sure there wasn’t a snake in the cabin, as far as she could see.
She took note of her surroundings. There were just the two windows in the front wall to let in light, the glass so thick she could barely see through it. There was next to no furniture. Instead of a cabinet, Morgan had a wall of deep shelves, one for folded clothes and bedding, one for dishes and pans, the rest for supplies, some of which were stored in baskets. Several crates were now stacked against a wall, too. Three chairs surrounded a rectangular table in the center of the room. Apparently, he did get visitors. There was no kitchen, just a fireplace with two raised griddles over it. A Dutch oven sat on the higher one, two pots on the lower one, a low fire burning beneath them. It was a decent fireplace, though, built of stone with a mantel on which a lantern and a few knickknacks sat. She was disappointed by the spartan accommodations. No sofa, not even one comfortable chair, just two narrow beds in opposite corners. Two?
Morgan walked in with a large sack of grain over his shoulder. She could see that he’d bathed. A long towel was still hanging about his neck, but he hadn’t fully dressed. His chest was bare and wet, his hair wet, too. It was too much when she wasn’t fully awake yet, all that bare brawn utterly transfixing her, not letting her thoughts through, not letting her breathe. . . .
“I built most of the furniture, so it’s as rough as you might expect, since I’m not a carpenter. The table wobbles. Ignore it, I do.”
She breathed deeply, and tore her eyes off him. He must have noticed her looking about the room to say that. She’d rather ignore him and his comments about his living quarters. Was he trying to soothe her with trivial conversation? That wasn’t happening.
She glanced between the two beds, one crumpled with bedding, the one she was sitting on made up neatly. “Who else lives here with you?”
He put the grain sack on a shelf before he turned and said, “No one now.”
“Was it my father? Is his mine actually that close to yours?”
“Should I brace myself for another conniption?”
Normally she would be mortified that she’d let him see her at her worst. Good Lord, she’d actually thrown things at him. But he’d deserved it. And then she realized he’d just evaded again!
“I think if I had a gun right now, I’d shoot you,” she said tonelessly.
“And miss.”
“Probably,” she agreed. “Though it would be satisfying to try. You really can’t keep doing this to me. That mine is too important to my family.”
“Well, that’s the thing, Violet Mitchell pretender, it’s not. It’s important to Sullivan, and what’s really important to you is his agenda. Now, I might have thrown a wrinkle into your plan by figuring that out, but you apparently had a fallback plan ready in case I did. Bottom line, Charley’s mine is still none of your business, so do us both a favor and stop nagging me about it.”
“This is bloody absurd. You assumed this impostor nonsense simply because Katie Sullivan befriended me in town, but it’s simply not true. I am exactly who I said I am.”
“I spent enough time with Charley to know he was from the East, Philadelphia, I think he said. You, however, aren’t from there. Sullivan was pretty dumb to hire a foreigner to play the part of Charley’s daughter.”
She sighed. It was suddenly clear why he refused to believe her—he’d even brought it up before. Her accent. Even her brothers had mentioned it.
“I tried to tell you on the trail that I’ve been living with my aunt and uncle in England for the last nine years, which may be why my father never mentioned me to you, and is why I speak with an English accent. Even my brothers teased me about sounding like a Brit now.”
“Are they children?”
“What difference does that make?”
“Then they are?”
“No, they are two years older than I.”
“Then they wouldn’t have let their younger sister come out here alone. You’re just providing more proof that you aren’t a Mitchell.”
She growled under her breath in frustration. “On the trail you implied that once we reached your mine, the truth would be revealed. Well? What kind of proof do you have that what you say and not what I say is the truth?”
“You won’t be leaving here until you admit the truth,” he replied. “That’s all I implied, and I don’t give a damn how long it takes.”
She was dismayed. Her brothers needed help immediately! “That’s unacceptable. My visit to this territory is a matter of the greatest urgency, and besides, I can prove who I am. You need only send a telegram to my brothers. Time is of the essence. I can give you the address, but you might think that’s prearranged. I can also give you their names, but again, you might think they are coconspirators. So just send it to Charles Mitchell’s sons. Our family is well known in Philadelphia. It will be delivered to them and they will confirm that I came here to find our father. And one of them intended to come with me, but he was detained. He was supposed to follow, but sent word that he couldn’t. They are depending on me to find Father’s money. D’you have it?”
“You’re too interested in that money,” he remarked. “Why is that?”
“Because my brothers and I need it.”
That got her a long stare before he said, “The brothers who aren’t actually yours? When it’s more likely that Sullivan has promised you that you can keep any money of Charley’s you find out here?”
“D’you realize how exasperating you are? I told you exactly how you can prove who I am. I demand you take me back to town to do so!”
“Well, that’s not happening, not until I’m ready for another trip, and maybe not even then. You don’t get to lead anyone back here, and letting you loose back in town will just have you running to Sullivan to do that.”
Her brief burst of anger petered out, leaving her with a sigh. “I have no intention of parting company with you when you are the only one who can help me. My brothers are counting on me to fix the dilemma our father left us in.”
“You mentioned you’re on a tight schedule. What’s the hurry, other than Shawn’s damn impatience?”
“I don’t know anything about that man, but my brothers and I are going to lose our family home if you don’t turn over our father’s money immediately. The loan Papa left them with used the house as collateral, and the payments have escalated. If you won’t take me to town so I can get you proof of my identity, then you go. I’ll wait here. You can cover the distance in half the time if you travel alone.”
“No.”
“
Why are you being so bloody stubborn about this?!”
He straightened. “Maybe I’m going to enjoy having you around. Maybe I think you’re so good at your job that you planned for all contingencies, including paying a visit to Philadelphia first to find out what you could about Charley. Lady, there’s all sorts of ways you could have prepared in advance to pull off this scam.”
Chapter Fourteen
VIOLET GLARED AT MORGAN. He had to be an idiot if he thought his comment about enjoying having her there could disarm her into telling him what he was convinced was the truth. It occurred to her that he might have been taking what he could from her father’s mine before relatives arrived to claim it. And that was why he didn’t want to show her where it was and why he might insist to the bitter end that she wasn’t a Mitchell.
“What are you going to do when you find out you’re wrong and I’m not working for Shawn Sullivan?” she asked.
“I’d rather hear you admit the truth and give me a reason to shoot the son of a bitch.”
“Men don’t seem to need much reason to do that out here,” she replied, remembering that frightful duel she’d witnessed in Butte. “Are you a thief? Have you been working my father’s mine all this time since he died? Is that why you’re being so evasive?”
“If you want to see me angry, you’re sure working in the right direction.”
He didn’t sound angry. Actually, the bear sounded amused. “Do you have his money?”
“No.”
An actual answer, but not the one she’d hoped for. “If you’re not a thief, why won’t you talk about my father or his mine? I have a right—”
He cut in, “That’s just it, you don’t. D’you think I don’t know that you’ll take anything I say right to Sullivan’s ears? So give it a rest, ’cause I’m damn tired of reminding you that it’s simply not your business.”
She sighed. Her belly rumbled, but he hadn’t mentioned eating yet, and she’d rather bathe first, so she asked, “Where is that bath you mentioned? You said there’s a water hole.”
He laughed. “Oh, hell no, that’s for drinking and cooking in case the stream dries up. There’s a spot in the stream that’s backed up a little and has formed a small pool. It’s where I bathe when I feel like it.”
That implied he didn’t bathe often. She grimaced as she carefully stood up. Her legs still hurt, but she hoped soaking in cold water would ease her thigh muscles. She reached for the valise he’d set next to the bed and pulled out some clean clothes. Very wrinkled clean clothes. She might have asked if he had an iron, but it would no doubt make him laugh again.
“You’re determined?” he asked, watching her.
“Of course.”
“The pool is outside the fence, so it’s not safe for you to go alone.”
“I’ll brave it.”
“You’d still need a gun—if you know how to use one.” When she frowned, he sighed, adding, “I’ll take you, as long as you’re quick about it. And don’t worry, the only thing you’ll see of me is my back. Come on, the sun will be setting soon.”
“Then take a lantern.”
“I said quick, but should have added, or not at all. Take your pick.”
She was beginning to think disagreeability was ingrained in him, but before he got out the door, she asked, “Do you have soap?”
He turned about and went to his wall of shelves to rummage through a basket, then tossed her a very large bar. The coarsest type of soap—it would probably rub the skin right off her hands. “A washcloth?”
“Lady, does this look like a hotel to you?” Yet he tossed a small towel at her, then, as an afterthought, the longer one around his neck. She started to ask for a clean one, but he read her mind: “That’s the only one, take it or leave it.”
She closed her eyes for the briefest moment, wondering what Sophie would think if she could see her now. Her cousin would either faint or laugh, most likely the latter. She was fond of saying that when situations became absurd, they turned comical. But Violet, in the thick of absurd situations and such primitive choices, hadn’t reached that point yet.
She followed her host outside. He was waiting at the top step, she assumed to help her down them. She noticed a wheelbarrow full of rocks that hadn’t been there before.
“You were mining?” she asked in surprise.
“Why not?” he replied. “I make use of daylight even if you don’t.”
Sure, remind her that she’d slept a good portion of the day away when she hadn’t meant to. And that was definitely humor in his tone. “I assumed you would spend the rest of the day unpacking your supplies.”
“I don’t unpack anything until I need it.” Nor had he been waiting there to help her, and the complaint he made as he went down the steps confounded her: “Waste of two good support beams.”
She didn’t have a clue—then she did. He’d built railings for the steps while she slept! He didn’t need those handholds or they would already have been attached to the steps. He’d built them just for her—and was complaining about it. She was amazed that he’d done it.
She couldn’t help smiling and saying, “Thank you.”
He stopped to wait for her and, seeing her hand on the railing, just nodded curtly. She saw mules grazing on both sides of the stream, then noticed an extension of the fence that ran through the trees on the other side of the stream. “More bells on that fence, I suppose?” He nodded, and she wondered aloud, “I would think bells could be cut off and a fence hopped in silence, so wouldn’t a dog prove more useful to let you know if anyone approaches?”
His answer was to whistle, very loudly. Nothing happened; he was just facetiously implying he had a dog. But he continued down the hill toward the gate they’d passed through when they arrived.
Following him, she passed his horse, the only animal left in the front yard. “Why isn’t he with the mules? Or is he a stallion?”
“He’d be a terror around here if he was. No, I just don’t take chances with my only way out of here. I lock Caesar in the mine at night. But I dug out a section to make room for my gals, too, during the worst of winter. It’s not an ideal stable, but it keeps them from freezing.”
Now she understood why he’d brought bales of hay from Butte when there was already so much grass around here. And then she heard barking in the distance. “So you do have a dog?”
The animal hadn’t appeared yet, but Morgan said, “I was out hunting after the spring thaw and cooking a rabbit for my lunch when Bo approached my camp snarling at me. Don’t know how long he was lost out there, but he was skin and bones by then. There was no doubt he was going to attack, he was that hungry. Rather than shoot him, I tossed him the rest of my meat. It was funny as hell. He wolfed that down in one chomp, then gave me an expectant look with his tail wagging. I’d won him over that easily. So I let him follow me home. He comes in handy, cleaning up scraps. But he wanders pretty far when I’m not here.”
“The fences don’t keep him in?”
“Now that he’s healthy, he has no trouble jumping them,” he said.
That was proven a moment later when a large black-haired dog leapt over the nearest fence and jumped up on Morgan in greeting, and then almost immediately started growling at Violet.
She didn’t back away. “You could have warned me he’s not tame.”
“But he is, tame as a pussycat.”
“That, sir, is not a good comparison. I had a cat, the meanest feline ever. She hissed and scratched at anyone who came near her.”
“Except you?”
“Especially me,” she corrected, her eyes still on the growling dog. “I think she knew I preferred dogs and hated me for it. My brothers got dogs, I got the mean cat.” And then to the dog, she said firmly, “You, stop that. We’re going to be friends.”
Morgan chuckled and only had to pet the top of the dog’s head to get it to stop growling. “Bo’s just protective of his yard. But tell me, why didn’t you run into the house screaming? Isn’t t
hat what you ladies do when threatened?”
She gave him an indignant look. “I told you I like dogs. Yours will sense that soon enough.”
She followed Morgan out of the yard and about twenty feet down the hill. The little pool he’d described was in the thicker part of the forest, but he hadn’t mentioned how inviting he’d made it. Smooth rock lined each side to make it easy to get in and out, and there were even a few flowers like those near his cabin.
True to his word, Morgan leaned against a tree, facing away from her. She still kept her eyes mostly on his back as she disrobed down to her underclothes and got in the water. She washed quickly, not wanting to give him another reason to complain.
She noticed another bar of soap next to the stream and almost laughed. Did he think she wouldn’t want to use his? She dried herself and dressed behind another tree in dry undergarments, a clean white blouse, and a lavender skirt. After rolling her soap and wet smallclothes in the washcloth, she wrapped Morgan’s larger towel around her wet hair, already imagining how painful it was going to be when she took her brush to what was now a wildly tangled mane.
Gathering up her things, she walked over to Morgan so they could head back to the cabin. He pushed away from the tree trunk he was leaning against and loomed over her. It did feel that way, he was so tall.
“This is when you might want to seduce me. If that’s one of your options, no point in wasting time.”
She was speechless. Strong arms drew her close to him, and he kissed her. Tickled by his mustache, teased by his tongue, she was startled by the fervent sensations that ran through her. It was all too fast and too much. She instinctively shoved him away from her and stumbled on a tree root behind her, toppling backward toward the water.
Chapter Fifteen
HE STOPPED THE FALL. Violet wished he hadn’t. She could have used another dunking, she felt so flustered from that kiss. She certainly didn’t thank him for keeping her dry when his effrontery deserved a dressing-down.
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