Marry Me by Sundown

by Johanna Lindsey

  But she still asked, “Why was your brother searching for me?”

  “Shawn went to your hotel to invite you to dinner again, only to be told that you’d left rather mysteriously. He assumed you’d found Callahan to guide you to your father’s mine, which Katie mentioned you were hoping to do. But when you didn’t return to town soon, Shawn became concerned, considering everything that we know about that ornery Callahan. It must have been awful having to deal with someone so rude and surly. I heard he doesn’t even wash!”

  Violet choked back a laugh. If only they could see Morgan now. But she certainly didn’t feel comfortable talking about him or their mines with a stranger, even if Kayleigh was Katie’s aunt and Violet felt safe here, so she asked, “Whose room is this?”

  “Katie’s. She won’t mind your using it. She rarely visits us anymore. I can’t say I blame her. This town is taking forever to shake off its primitive beginnings.”

  “Did Katie get married?”

  “Yes, and Shawn was so disappointed that business kept him from attending the wedding, but we received a telegram that everything went off perfectly. But do stop eating so fast, dear, or you’ll get stomach upset. I assure you I’ll bring another tray if that one isn’t enough.”

  Violet didn’t pause in eating, just nodded. But Kayleigh was staring at her skirt and the bed beneath it. Violet followed her gaze and saw just how dusty she was.

  “Yes, that spread will have to be cleaned now,” Kayleigh said with yet another tsk. “I tried to get them to pull it down before you were laid there, but they were in such a hurry, no one listened. I do have water heating for your bath. I think you even have blood in your hair. Goodness, how did that happen? Did you kill him? Is that why you came back to town alone?”

  “I haven’t killed anyone!” she said indignantly.

  The very idea that she would hurt Morgan was ridiculous. But she’d just gotten too many questions all at once! And blood in her hair? It couldn’t be from the shoot-out with the claim jumpers two days ago, because Morgan had brushed her hair and would have noticed it. She must have scratched her head last night or today if she did in fact have a fall. Why couldn’t she remember?

  “Of course not, dear,” Kayleigh was agreeing with her. “Now, if you don’t have clean clothes in that tattered valise, I can bring you some of mine.”

  Her valise wasn’t tattered, it was just dirty like her. But she was out of clean clothes, so she said, “Thank you, mine do need washing.”

  “I’ll send the housekeeper for them, but I expect the doctor to be here soon, so we might want to postpone the bath until after he examines you. You should probably stay in bed until he does. If you have suffered an injury, you don’t want to make it worse.”

  “You’re very kind.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re one of us.”

  What did that mean? Or was Kayleigh being snobbish, because they were both ladies and there were so few of them in Butte? She had denigrated the town, and Morgan, for that matter, though everyone in Butte did the latter. When the woman finally left, Violet got to eat the rest of the meal in peace. But it wasn’t enough.

  The door had been left open, so the man with the doctor’s bag didn’t need to knock and simply entered. “You aren’t Dr. Cantry,” Violet said.

  “No, I’m not, nor are we affiliated, though we are on good terms,” he said. “I’m Dr. Wilson. The mine owners hired me to tend to their workers, while Cantry sees to the townsfolk. But I deal with his patients when he has to leave town, and he returns the favor when I visit my son in Helena. It works out well.”

  “So he’s currently out of town?”

  “Not that I know of. Mr. Sullivan sent for me. Now, please be at ease, miss. I’m not going to ask you to undress.”

  She hadn’t thought he would. After listening to her heart, gently touching the sore areas on her back, and cleaning the cut on the side of her head, he gave her an encouraging diagnosis. The abrasion on her head was superficial and would heal quickly. Her soreness was due to too much time in the saddle, and he attributed her fainting to the heat and lack of adequate food and water. He recommended a few days of rest. Her body agreed. But she still needed to get a telegram off to her brothers before she could think about convalescing quietly.

  At least Morgan wouldn’t look for her in this house—unless she left it. Maybe she could ask Kayleigh to send the telegram for her. She just wanted to make sure her brothers didn’t set out for Montana because she would soon be home in Philadelphia.

  Tomorrow or the day after, she intended to buy a train ticket home. She couldn’t impose on the Sullivans for more than a day or two, and she was afraid to check into any of the hotels where Morgan could find her. She did not want to be abducted in the middle of the night again. But she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She hoped he would understand why she’d left and not be hurt that she did so without saying good-bye. She could leave a note at his hotel. She knew he ignored notes there, but if he was looking for her, he might check. She didn’t want him to worry or keep looking for her after she left the territory. . . . Bloody hell, she missed him. She had to stop it! He wasn’t the man for her, and she didn’t want any part of his way of life.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “YOU’RE A MESS, CHILD. Were you really out in that wilderness on your own?”

  A different woman had entered the room, a basket on one arm, a dress draped over the other. She was middle-aged and her brown hair was pulled back into a simple bun. Was she the housekeeper? Two boys followed her in with buckets of water that they carried behind a screen in the corner of the room, then left to get more. The basket the woman set on the nightstand had little meat pies in it. Bless her, Violet thought, at least someone knew soup wouldn’t be enough.

  “Yes,” Violet replied. “Foolish, I know. I just got in a bit of a panic after some outlaws absconded with me; then they died—at my feet. It was suddenly paramount that I get back to civilization immediately.”

  “Oh, you poor dear. I can’t imagine witnessing such violence.” The woman shook her head and walked to the wardrobe to hang the dress she was carrying.

  Mentioning those outlaws brought that gruesome scene into her mind, so she quickly did what she’d done during her ride to Butte when those images had plagued her—she thought of Morgan and his lovemaking, her real reason for fleeing. She had some very real regret that she would never see him again. He’d protected her, treated her well, was the bravest man she’d ever known. He was smart, even funny, and he’d given her such an amazing romantic experience. But there was a hard, dangerous side to him that enabled him to thrive in this rough, wild land and that she didn’t completely understand or feel comfortable with. But she really must have been in a panic to set out for Butte without a care for her own safety. In hindsight, it had been a stupid thing to do.

  “I’m Mrs. Hall,” the woman said, returning to Violet’s bedside. “Abigail Hall, the housekeeper here, though someone’s been calling me Abby recently and I rather like it, so it’s fine if you do, too, Miss Violet. Do you need help getting to the tub?”

  Violet smiled. “I’m not sure, but if there is hot water in it, I’ll definitely manage to get into it somehow. I need to send a telegram today, too. I was going to ask Mr. Sullivan’s sister to do me that favor.”

  “Don’t bother her about it. She can be . . . forgetful. But I’ll bring you some paper and send it for you myself. The doctor mentioned that you need rest.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Mr. Sullivan expects you to join him and Miss Kayleigh for dinner tonight,” Abigail said. “But I can delay that for a day, if you’re not up to it. He might be in an all-fired hurry to talk to you, but I think the doctor’s recommendation should be taken into account.”

  “Why is he in a hurry to speak with me?”

  “That man is always in a hurry, but in your case, I expect he’ll make you an offer for your mine, now that you’ve found it. It can be dirt-poor and he won
’t care, not if it’s near Callahan’s mine.”

  Violet frowned, bothered by the fact that both Kayleigh and Abigail knew she’d been with Morgan and had located her father’s mine when she hadn’t told either of them that, or mentioned it to Sullivan’s men, as far as she could remember. It was beginning to feel a little odd; then again, she hadn’t disabused them of their assumptions, had just evaded confirming them, and she would rather not lie about it if she didn’t have to.

  So she simply said, “I can’t sell either mine.”

  “Well, then, that’s that. Perhaps for once he’ll take no for an answer.”

  That sounded somewhat ominous. Nonsense. She was letting Morgan’s rants about Sullivan get to her. But Morgan wasn’t a liar. Had his obsession with his mine colored his thinking about Sullivan’s efforts to acquire it? He had said that Sullivan had left a pile of notes for him at his hotel that he’d never even read. She supposed there was nothing wrong with persistence like that—as long as it didn’t turn into coercion. But she wouldn’t be in this town long enough to get badgered into selling a mine she wasn’t sure she had the right to sell. Even if she did have the right, she couldn’t do that to Morgan.

  She spent close to an hour in the porcelain tub and didn’t care that the water got tepid, not when she’d longed for a real bath for more than a week. Abigail brought her dinner, which served as confirmation that dining with her hosts had been put off, but the housekeeper warned Violet that she would be carried to the dining room tomorrow evening if necessary. There was that Sullivan impatience again.

  Of course, that wouldn’t be necessary. She was feeling better, more like herself already. But she was relieved by the delay. Once she turned down Sullivan’s offer for the mine, whatever it was, she’d probably have to leave his house immediately. She didn’t think he’d actually kick her out, but she’d feel uncomfortable remaining. It was too bad he hadn’t invited her to breakfast instead. Then she could go straight to the train station afterward.

  She spent most of the next day in bed, getting as much rest as she could before her train journey home. Abigail confirmed that she’d sent the telegram to her brothers. With all of her clothes out of her valise for washing, she’d been able to find all of her hairpins and put her hair up properly. Her clothes had been returned clean and pressed, so she felt quite presentable for dinner. Abigail led her to the dining room.

  The interior of the Sullivan house was as grand as its handsomely designed brick façade, which had so impressed her the day she’d come to see where he lived. She walked through well-lit, carpeted hallways past beautifully appointed rooms with fine furniture, tasteful fabrics, and gleaming silver bowls, vases, and mirror frames. She wasn’t the first to arrive in the dining room.

  Kayleigh, who was standing by a chair at one end of the long table, smiled and greeted her. “Feeling better today, Miss Mitchell?”

  “Still a little sore,” Violet replied. “But yes, much better and somewhat civilized again.”

  “Callahan’s camp is primitive, is it?”

  She didn’t confirm that she’d been there, saying instead, “Everything outside of town is.”

  She glanced about the room at furnishings and luxury goods that couldn’t possibly have been bought in this town: fine china, silver cutlery, a crystal chandelier, a long dining table with ornate legs. It reminded her of Morgan’s dream to bring fine things to the people in the territory. She hoped he attained his goal—and she really ought to stop thinking about him.

  “Do sit, Miss Mitchell,” Shawn Sullivan said as he entered the room.

  She swung around to see the man she’d met at dinner with Katie and her fiancé. Sullivan had brown hair sprinkled with gray, but Katie had gotten her green eyes from her father. Wearing a well-cut charcoal-gray business suit, he was smiling and appeared as gregarious as he’d been that night in the hotel dining room. The man couldn’t possibly be as nefarious as Morgan had depicted him. He came forward to pull out a chair for her, one that placed her halfway between him and his sister, who took the seats at either end of the table.

  “You have been most kind to offer me your hospitality, Mr. Sullivan.”

  “Of course, of course, how could we not? I’m glad my men encountered you and were able to help you. We were concerned when you left so suddenly with Morgan Callahan after he was spotted in town. I know Katie said you hoped he would guide you to your father’s mine; I was just surprised that he agreed to. It couldn’t have been pleasant dealing with someone that stubborn and rough around the edges. But I expect you’re on good terms with him now?”

  An actual direct question to get their assumptions confirmed. There was no point in denying it or trying to evade it this time, when she had in fact told Katie that. And she didn’t have an alternate excuse ready for where she’d been all this time.

  “Somewhat,” she said. “At least when he’s not accusing me of working for you.”

  Shawn laughed. “Did he?”

  There was nothing funny about the frustration that Morgan’s misunderstanding had caused her, but she wasn’t going to be rude, so just said, “For a few days, yes. But we sorted that out.”

  “My men didn’t see him when you rode toward town. Did he really leave you to get back on your own?”

  He was asking far too many questions about Morgan. “Is dinner going to be late?” she asked politely with a smile, trying to mitigate her rudeness at evading his question.

  He nodded at a servant standing silently by the door. Moments later, the first course arrived. She hoped eating would get his mind off Morgan, because his interest was making her distinctly uncomfortable. She didn’t want to reveal any information that might hurt Morgan or her family’s interest in the mine. If Sullivan was leading up to asking her where Morgan’s mine was, she was going to have to get up and leave.

  She tried to distract him further by asking, “Will Katie be living in Chicago with her husband? I thought I might visit her briefly before I return to England.”

  “Her husband has his own house in Chicago, yes,” Shawn answered, but then gave her a pointed look. “Do I need to let our sheriff know that Callahan left you out in the wilderness to die? Is that what you’re trying to avoid mentioning?”

  She gasped. “He did nothing of the sort! He merely wasn’t ready to come to town, but I was, so I left to return to Philadelphia. My brothers will deal with our mine from now on.”

  “But they aren’t here, are they?”

  “No, they’re still in the East.”

  “You would go home and then come all the way back here just to take them to the mine?” he said a bit incredulously. “When I could have one of my men do that for you?”

  Coming back to Montana wasn’t an appealing thought, but she’d known when she slipped away from Morgan that she might have to. Waiting for her brothers to arrive in Butte was an even less appealing solution. Actually, she could probably give them directions, draw them a rough map. She knew the exact mountain range now, just not which exact gorge to climb; but there were only a few gorges, so they would find the right one in a matter of hours. Relief flooded her with that realization. She could catch the train in the morning!

  As for Shawn’s offer, she merely reminded him, “You don’t know where it is, so how could you?”

  “Because you will show me before you leave town—then you won’t have to return merely to be your brothers’ guide.”

  “After all you’ve been through, I’m sure you’re hoping to see the last of Butte when you go,” Kayleigh added.

  The man’s persistence was becoming annoying. But she wasn’t about to admit that she could provide directions to the mines. And she had a solution for the problem he was predicting, without admitting that there was no problem.

  “That is very kind of you, but Morgan can—”

  He cut in, “Morgan is in the habit of making sure he isn’t seen when he comes to town, nor does he pick up messages. Your kin will end up stuck in this town waiting for
a man who never shows up.”

  She was even more annoyed that what he was saying could well be true. Morgan might not accept the notes her brothers would leave for him. He might be too angry at her to deal with Daniel and Evan, although he had to want her brothers to work at the mine long enough to repay the three thousand dollars they’d borrowed from him. Still, she simply couldn’t be sure of how he would react at this point. But he’d never forgive her if she led Shawn Sullivan to his mine. That she was positive of.

  She wished Sullivan didn’t sound so sincere, which made it difficult for her to refuse his offer. But she simply didn’t need his help, nor did she believe he had her best interests in mind. She just couldn’t let him know that. So she reiterated, “I just want to go home and forget about this horrible ordeal.”

  “Certainly, and you can do just that as soon as you show me to my new mine. I will pay you a hundred thousand dollars for it. You won’t be going home empty-handed, and you’ll never have to venture west again.”

  She was astonished by the offer. A sane person would accept it immediately. But Violet suspected that Sullivan had made such a high offer because the mine was worth more than that. Or he figured he’d be getting another mine for free—Morgan’s. My new mine? Was he that positive she wouldn’t turn him down? Or would it even matter once he knew the mine’s location? She needed to stall.

  “You are generous, but it’s not a decision I can make without first discussing it with my brothers. I assure you I will the moment I arrive home. They will likely want to accept your offer. They are gentlemen, not miners. But I truly can’t make this decision on my own.”

  “Then you can telegraph them in the morning.”

  He was bullying her, she realized, maneuvering her into a corner. The man really didn’t take no for an answer. “No,” she said bluntly. “This is far too important a matter to entrust to telegrams. The decision will be made, sir, when I get home.”