Chapter Twenty
VIOLET CHANGED INTO HER prettier pink blouse and found a matching ribbon for her braid, determined to look a little more presentable before approaching Morgan. But she was actually out of breath by the time she reached him in his mine. It was a good thing she’d brought a lantern, because when she’d entered the tunnel she could barely make out the light at the end. Her father’s tunnel was barely a scratch compared to this one.
“Good Lord, this is hundreds of feet long!” she exclaimed. “Why don’t you dig side tunnels closer to the entrance, instead of just this long one?”
“I plan to. But first I wanted to find out how far in this lode goes. Expected to reach the end of it long ago, but haven’t yet.”
He didn’t turn around to talk to her, just kept swinging his pick at the wall of rock in front of him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his back glistened in the light of the two lanterns hanging on the support beams behind him. She was fascinated by the rippling of the muscles in his arms and back. He was a primal vision of man carving the land to his whim.
He broke the spell he’d cast when he asked, “Did you come in here for a reason other than to annoy me?”
“Don’t be nasty. I wanted to ask your advice on where else to look for Papa’s hidden money—or, more precisely, what to look for other than disturbed dirt. I checked your yard, even the mule pasture, and found nothing.”
“He definitely wouldn’t hide it there. My gals made him nervous.”
The remark brought a smile to her face as she recalled that her father didn’t like to ride horses, either. She and her brothers did, but their father did all his gadding about in a carriage or coach. He must have hated having to ride a horse out here in the West.
“Anything else I should know before I venture beyond the fence?”
“It’s sure not going to be lying out in the open. It might be buried under a large rock or stuffed inside a hole in a tree trunk.”
“Up a tree?”
“No, a hole in the tree that’s close to the ground. Charley wasn’t agile enough to climb trees. But figure on anywhere that’s a few minutes’ to a few hours’ walk from here in any direction. I was in the mine about four hours the day he told me he’d hidden the money. So you’ll need to learn how to shoot a rifle and take it with you. Go get Charley’s.”
He finally turned around. She couldn’t help noticing that his chest was glistening with sweat, too. She knew she shouldn’t be staring at his naked upper body, but she couldn’t help it.
“Shouldn’t you be on your way?”
Her eyes snapped up to his. “You said the rifle isn’t loaded.”
“I’ll meet you in the yard with a crate of ammunition and show you how to load it and shoot it. You’re not leaving here till you hit what you aim at.”
She groaned. Learning how to shoot could take the rest of the day. Was it really necessary if she didn’t go beyond shouting distance? But she left to do as he said. A shooting lesson might give her an opportunity to bring up forming a new partnership with him.
By the time she’d retrieved the rifle from the other tunnel, Morgan was already in the yard with a crate at his feet. Taking the weapon from her, he said, “This is a Spencer repeating rifle. The magazine holds seven bullets, and this lever needs to be pulled after each shot. After the seventh, you will need to reload.”
He demonstrated as he spoke, but he was still shirtless and her eyes kept drifting away from the rifle in his hands to that thin mat of hair across his upper chest.
Then she heard, “You try,” and gave him a blank look. He actually chuckled.
She said, “It’s not funny. You could have dressed more appropriately for this lesson.”
“When I’m going right back into the mine? Do I need to repeat myself?”
She sighed. “Once more, please.”
He did, and she paid better attention this time, so when he said, “Your turn,” she was able to load the magazine. “Now, positioning is very important.”
He started to move behind her, but she turned so she was still facing him and quickly said, “I’d like to discuss the partnership you mentioned last night.”
“I told you it’s over and done with, so, no.”
“Humor me, please. At least tell me the particulars of it.”
“There’s no point.”
“Please.”
He stared at her so long she almost said, “Forget it,” but then he said, “Charley suggested an eighty-twenty split in my favor, since he knew he wasn’t going to be able to contribute much. But I was feeling generous the day we came to terms, so I lowered it to seventy-thirty.”
She frowned. “Thirty percent instead of half doesn’t strike me as a fair partnership.”
“When he did so little digging? You really want to take that stand?”
She pointed out, “Would you have been able to mine the silver on his claim without his agreement?”
“No, I can’t lawfully mine beyond my stake in the yard. If there weren’t restrictions, one person could claim everything.”
“So this was all extra silver for you, even if you did have to split it. That’s quite a contribution from him, if you ask me.”
“No one’s asking you. And I did consider that, but the fact is, I didn’t need to dig another mine. There’s more silver on my claim than I’ll ever dig out, and it’s a hundred percent mine. So the extra silver was just a minor incentive for me to accept Charley’s deal.”
“It was his idea?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Like I said, he was pretty desperate that day.”
“What about the money you said he hid? Is it worth the effort to search for it?”
“He had around thirteen hundred left after our first joint-venture load paid off. It was eighteen hundred, but he insisted on giving me a quarter of that for his share of the supplies and the use of my smelter. It was too much, but I couldn’t talk him out of it. I think his pride got in the way.”
She was incredulous that her father’s 30 percent share amounted to so much money. “That thirteen hundred will at least let my brothers stave off the banker for a few months, if I can find it. But what I don’t understand is why my father didn’t send that money to my brothers right away. Or write them when he went to town again.”
Morgan looked like he might be frowning, but she couldn’t be sure because of his mustache. “Because he didn’t go back to Butte after he filed his claim. He got accosted the day he filed it. I found him roughed up in an alley struggling to his feet and got him out of town fast. He was bruised up pretty bad, but otherwise okay. He didn’t know who did it, but before the men attacked him they asked him where his mine was located and he refused to tell them. I don’t doubt it was a couple of Sullivan’s men.”
“But how did they even know about it?”
“Your father stopped in a saloon to wait for me to finish my business and apparently bragged that he had a silver mine near my claim. I’d warned him not to mention the mine to anyone, but he was so happy he got himself drunk and spilled the beans. So that’s why he didn’t go back to town until a month later when I took him after the accident. He was guarding the place while Texas and I went to Butte. I suspected the claim jumpers might have killed him when I found him, but there were no fresh tracks outside the mine and there was blood on the support beam next to where he fell.”
“What was he doing in the mine while you weren’t here?” she asked.
“He still tried to dig through the tunnel a couple hours a day off and on. I told him he didn’t have to, but he was stubborn, wanted to contribute. Unfortunately, he never made much progress.”
“But you and Texas went to town after my father was roughed up. You could have mailed a letter for him.”
“Yeah, I could have, but he never asked me to. Maybe he was waiting until he had enough to pay off the loan in full.”
“I don’t suppose you continued to mine on his claim after the accident?”
&nbs
p; “No, I went back to working my own mine.”
She sighed. “About this shooting lesson . . . ?”
“ ’Bout time,” he said, and stepped behind her again.
She gasped softly the moment his arms came around her, but she knew he only did it to position her hands on the rifle and lift her arms to the appropriate height. “The butt of the rifle needs to be pressed against your shoulder or the recoil could knock you on your as—uh, backside and hurt like hell, so don’t fire unless the butt is firmly seated like this. Now, let’s see if you can hit something before the ammunition crate is empty. Try one of those cowbells on the fence.”
She would have huffed at his sarcasm if his chest wasn’t still pressed to her back, causing a flurry of agitation inside her.
“Did I need to mention you have to pull the trigger?”
More sarcasm, but he stepped back this time, letting her breathe normally again so she could point out, “Wild animals that can hurt me aren’t as small as that bell. At least give me a target the size of a small animal.”
“All right, follow me.”
He picked up the crate and moved to open the gate, continuing another twenty feet before putting the crate down. She followed and even closed the gate for him—and noticed that the rifle was already starting to feel a little heavy. Was he really going to make her carry it as she searched for the money?
Before she brought that up, she looked at the gun on his hip. She was surprised he wore it even when he was mining. “Wouldn’t a pistol be easier for me to handle?”
“Not if you want to hit what you’re aiming at,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her around so he could help her position the rifle again. “The rifle you hold high so you can look down its barrel at your target. I have an extra Colt, but you shoot from your waist with that type of gun and hitting your target requires a lot more practice.”
He aimed the rifle for her, placed her left hand under the barrel to support it. Tipping her head and looking down the long length, she saw it was pointing at his trespassing sign. She was about to pull the trigger when she felt his breath against her ear. A delicious shiver ran down her spine, and she nearly dropped the weapon. She lowered it before it slipped out of her hands. She turned slowly as he stepped back, and only then realized that he’d merely been leaning close to see if her aim was accurate.
“Have you changed your mind about learning to shoot?” he asked.
“No, I—” Good grief, where had her bloody thoughts gone! “You just described how you shoot a Colt, but I’m a woman. Wouldn’t it be just as effective if I raised the pistol to the same height as the rifle and looked down the length of my arm?”
He stared at her a moment before chuckling. “You could be right. Wait here while I fetch it.”
What was it about Morgan Callahan that enabled him to make her nervous and breathlessly stirred up at the same time? She set the rifle down and fanned her cheeks with both hands until she saw him heading back to her. Still shirtless. Still flaunting a physique that had to be the pinnacle of masculine beauty and temptation. Did he know what a fine figure of a man he was? Maybe he did and that’s why he hid an ugly face under that horribly shaggy beard, so it wouldn’t detract from his magnificent body—and she still wasn’t thinking clearly!
“I don’t have an extra gun belt for this,” he said as he reached her, “so you’ll have to figure out how you’re going to carry it.”
“Couldn’t I borrow yours?”
“No.”
The weapon was nearly a foot in length, making it too long to fit in her purse or the pocket of her skirt, but she supposed she could tie it to her waist with a long ribbon. She would just have to make sure Morgan didn’t see her carrying the gun that way. She caused him enough amusement as it was. But when he put the weapon in her hand, she realized that it was so light compared to the rifle, she could probably just carry it in her hand.
“All of this is to protect me from animals that will probably run away from me before I run away from them, right?” she asked.
“You never know,” he said as he showed her how to load the Colt by demonstrating with his own. “Encounters with people in these hills are rare, but in addition to claim jumpers, I’ve heard of outlaws out this way and seen the marshals and bounty hunters searching for them. There are also other prospectors traveling through these hills. The greatest danger to you will come from wild animals, but you still need to be able to protect yourself from any strangers you come across.”
She was more concerned about wild animals. “What about bears? Do they come up here?”
“Ran across one fishing at the river below here last year. Made a coat out of him. But haven’t seen any this far up. Now, let’s see if your idea has merit. Shoot the sign.”
She lifted the gun, looked down the length of her arm, and pulled the trigger. The weapon seemed to jump in her hand, pointing upward as if it had a mind of its own. Texas yelled from the cliff, “I’m trying to sleep up here!” And Morgan started laughing.
But then he was standing behind her again, his chest pressed to her back, and he rasped by her ear, “You forgot the support.” He raised her left hand and placed it under her forearm. “Grip firmly the way you did with the rifle barrel to hold your arm steady. Try now.”
His breath crossed her cheek this time. He was doing it again, trying to see for himself if her aim was accurate. Did he really think she could concentrate when it felt like she was utterly surrounded by him and all she could think about was kissing him?
“What are you waiting for?” he asked.
She lowered the gun, pointing it at the ground, and turned about in his arms. He’d already straightened, so she had to glance up to meet his eyes. She was going to make it clear that he was far too distracting for this to work and suggest that his friend teach her instead. The words didn’t happen.
The kiss began softly. As she’d guessed, his mustache tickled her upper lip, and she couldn’t help the giggle that started, but it was cut off almost instantly when his hand at the back of her neck pressed her closer to him and his lips spread hers apart, or her gasp did; in either case, the kiss was now deep and amazing and so very stirring, with so many wonderful sensations showing up all at once. There was a fluttering in her belly, her pulse racing, a tingling up her back, and a shocking urge to put her arms around him when his tongue slid next to hers.
She moaned in delight. Unfortunately, he didn’t recognize it as a sound of pleasure and stepped back. And for once, she could tell that he was frowning. But for once, she didn’t want him to.
“That was—” she began.
He cut in, “Necessary to clear your head. You were getting distracted. Now, concentrate and keep practicing. I’ll check on your progress in a few hours.” He walked away, but tossed back, “And no cheating by getting closer to the sign.”
She would have admitted the kiss was nice, but maybe it was better that she didn’t let him know that she’d liked it quite so much. That might bring him back for more when she supposed they ought not to be doing that, considering they didn’t even like each other. But without the insult preceding it this time, she couldn’t deny being kissed by the bear had been thrilling.
Feeling a bit full of herself because of it, she raised the weapon she was still holding, supported her arm, and fired off several shots. She stared incredulously at the sign she’d just damaged, then yelled to Morgan before he disappeared inside his mine, “I’ve mastered this!”
“The hell you have.”
“Three shots, three holes in the sign. It would appear shooting is my forte.”
He snorted and continued on, yelling back, “Return before dinner or you go without.”
She wasn’t displeased with his sour reaction. She smiled, guessing that his anger wasn’t directed at her. He was mad at himself because he’d wanted to kiss her, and he had.
Chapter Twenty-One
VIOLET RETURNED TO THE camp at precisely five o’cl
ock. She’d dug her pocket watch out of her valise before she left to make sure she would return long before the sun set. But spending most of the day walking over uneven terrain had left her tired and thinking about taking a short nap before dinner.
She forgot about the nap when she found Morgan in the yard pouring large rocks from a wheelbarrow into some kind of device. He turned a handle to raise a large square of metal covered in netting, then let it drop into the container below. When she saw him pouring small stones from the container into crates, which were stacked nearby, she realized the device was a rock crusher.
“You’re saving rocks?” she asked as she approached.
“That’s silver ore,” he corrected. “I’m getting it ready for smelting.”
Since he nodded toward the big brick dome, she guessed, “So that’s what you call a smelter?”
“I light it about every four days, and only at night, since it makes a lot of smoke, which could be seen from far off during the day. The wind usually comes up the gully or over the lower slope and blows the smoke away from the cabin. Stinks like hell and can even make you sick if you inhale too much of it, so I don’t smelt unless there’s a good breeze.”
“You built that?”
He nodded. “It’s just made of clay bricks. Couldn’t very well get a ready-made metal one up this hill, those things are huge. So are rock crushers, so I made one of those, too, just had to order a block of steel and the nets to hold it. You’ll need to go into the cabin when I do the burn, just in case the smoke drifts into the yard.”
“It seems like a lot of extra work. Wouldn’t it be simpler to sell the ore as it is?”
“Simpler, but not as convenient. I did that the first few months I was here, which is why I bought so many mules to carry it to town. It’s easier to transport silver bricks than bulky raw ore.”
“Do you make more money if you smelt it first?”
Marry Me by Sundown Page 14