“There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?” she demanded. “And what did you mean, if he’ll talk to me? Why wouldn’t he?”
“There’s nothing further I can tell you,” the man said stiffly, but then actually did, adding, “But if you need Mr. Callahan’s help with something, then you probably shouldn’t have dined with his worst enemy.”
Katie? No, of course not Katie—her father. “Mr. Sullivan?”
“I’m done talking, ma’am. Go away or I’ll summon my manager.”
She sucked in her breath indignantly and marched away to retake her seat in the lobby. What the deuce had just happened? She recalled Katie saying her father didn’t like Morgan. Well, it appeared Morgan didn’t like Katie’s father either.
None of which explained why Morgan might not talk to her. If he recognized her name, and had known her father, why wouldn’t he?
Chapter Six
BEFORE THE DINNER HOUR, the manager of the hotel approached Violet in the lobby. He introduced himself with a slight bow, but his tone was firm when he said, “I must ask you to leave the lobby, Miss Mitchell.”
She frowned at him. “Why?”
“Because you have been disturbing my guests.”
She was doing no such thing, but his expression warned he wouldn’t argue about it. She was mortified when he added, “I also expect you to vacate your room in the morning. I won’t have you harassing my employees any longer either. They’ve filed complaints. And in this town, good employees are harder to obtain than guests, so I have no choice but to insist you go.”
She was furious as she went upstairs to her room and even slammed the door shut, hoping that awful manager could hear it downstairs. She didn’t doubt that Morgan Callahan had somehow arranged for her eviction. And obviously, there would be no waiting for him comfortably in the lobby tomorrow. He’d seen to that. But she could wait outside the hotel for him to come out. She refused to be undone by these despicable shenanigans of his.
She packed her valise that night. If she couldn’t find Morgan as he left town tomorrow, she’d have no choice but to return to Philadelphia. She couldn’t afford to wait weeks more for the man to come again to Butte on one of his infrequent visits. Leaving meant her brothers would lose the family home, and she knew they wouldn’t want to go to England with her—actually, she couldn’t return there either if she failed here. The Faulkners loved her, but she simply couldn’t live there as their poor relation. And she certainly couldn’t ask her uncle for a dowry when he had six daughters to provide for.
She sat on the bed quite shocked by the circumstances before her. She had to find her father’s mine! She fervently hoped he’d hidden a fortune there. If not, she and her brothers would have to figure out a way to exploit the mine to make their own fortune. Otherwise, she would have to become a schoolteacher in Philadelphia and her brothers would have to get jobs. They would live dreary lives as genteel poor people. Or she could marry Mr. Perry. . . . She blanched at that thought.
But dare she stay in Butte any longer and risk running out of money? No, the thought of working in this particular town was appalling. She had enough money to send one of her brothers back here to continue the search. They owned a mine somewhere in this territory, and she had the name of the man who could show them to it. Perhaps Daniel or Evan would have better luck than she was having. But whichever brother came, he was going to have to work here in order to stay here.
Her anger returned when she realized that her future and theirs depended on a single man who wouldn’t even take the time to find out what she wanted of him! But she still had one last chance to corner him in the morning and hoped she wouldn’t be so furious with him that it would put him off dealing with her. If he didn’t sneak out of the hotel by a rear exit. If he didn’t simply leave town tonight. And she wouldn’t even know if he’d managed to escape her notice!
More fuel for the fire. She was so angry that it took a while to get to sleep that night, hours actually. Fury just wouldn’t let her mind rest. But exhaustion finally won out, she had no idea how late.
Being disturbed from that hard-won slumber brought the fury back—but only for a moment.
The gag was the first clue that she was in trouble. It tasted salty—from sweat?! She screamed under it, a pathetic mewling sound even to her ears. And then she was yanked out of the bed, only to be tossed back down on top of the covers. She screamed again when a very large shadow loomed over her. Violation came horribly to mind and suddenly terrified her. But she wasn’t being accosted—she was being rolled up in the bloody blanket! And hefted over a shoulder to be carried out of there.
She understood then. She wasn’t being allowed to leave the hotel of her own volition. She was being tossed out! Well, she had glared at the manager a bit, no, a lot. He might have thought that she would refuse to vacate the room and this was his only option. Or Morgan Callahan had paid for her to be evicted. This way? Like throwing out the trash? And in the middle of the night so no one would notice such a despicable deed?
She expected to be unrolled on the boardwalk outside the hotel and at least given her belongings, even if they didn’t want her payment for the room. But that didn’t actually happen. She was on that shoulder for too long. Was she being taken to a different hotel? Had it all been prearranged?
When the man carrying her finally stopped, she hoped she could actually stand upright in her tight cocoon. But she didn’t get a chance to find out because her feet never touched the ground. She was dragged off his shoulder simply to be tossed on the back of a horse, stomach down, still bundled tightly in that blanket.
Her new position was what alerted her to the possibility that she was being abducted. She was even being tied to the horse, felt straps tighten across her back to keep her on it! So utterly ignoble. But one frightful thought led to another, until she finally concluded that this was the fault of her clothes! Someone in this town thought she was rich because of them and that a hefty ransom might be forthcoming. And how long would she have to wait to disabuse her captor of that notion? Would he even believe her when she told him that she wasn’t rich? Well, her immediate family wasn’t, but her uncle in England was. But it would take two months to obtain money from him! And another possibility loomed, that she might be killed instead if her captor chose not to wait months for a ransom.
It was excruciating waiting to get any answers, and time dragged because the ride was so uncomfortable. Her stomach ached even though the horse wasn’t moving fast. Her back ached from trying to work loose of the straps so she could slide off the horse and run. And every so often she felt something press down on her back. Her abductor’s hand, so he could assure himself she was still there?
It could have been an hour or less, or even two or three, for all she knew, before the horse finally stopped, the straps were undone, and her feet touched the ground. The blanket was unwrapped from her and tossed aside, then the gag was removed. She was extremely thirsty and her body ached and, wearing only a thin nightgown, she felt the chill in the air. But she kept her eyes on the man. She thought he might be tying the gag around his neck, but she couldn’t be sure since he was just a huge shadow standing next to her.
Nonetheless, she demanded, “Who are you and why have you abducted me? I insist you return me immediately to my hotel!” He heard her, was looking right at her, but didn’t answer, making her point out, “You’ve somehow gotten the wrong idea about me. I’m not rich. I warn you, no one will offer a ransom for me.”
“I didn’t think anyone would pay to get you back, and I’m not after money.”