“I knew Charley, which ain’t the same thing.”
“Then tell me about Charley. You worked with him, you must even have liked him because you took him to the doctor in town when he was hurt. Was he happy out here? Please, I only had two visits with him in the last nine years. Tell me something about his—his last days.”
He sat up. The look he gave her across the fire sent chills down her spine. “What I’m gonna tell you is I’m tired, otherwise I might applaud. How long did it take you to study for this role?”
The question infuriated her. “Eighteen years, that’s how long I’ve been Violet Mitchell!”
“Yet you only show up after Charley dies, ’cause he would’ve called you a liar same as I am. Nice try, lady, but if I don’t get some sleep, you won’t like me tomorrow.”
A distinct threat, yet she still mumbled loud enough for him to hear, “I don’t like you now.”
She regretted it immediately, even if it was true. It was still rude, which wasn’t like her at all. And turning him even further against her wasn’t going to get her any answers. So she raised the proverbial white flag with the neutral remark, “There was water not far from here. Why didn’t we camp by it?”
He lay down again and turned on his side facing away from her. “Water draws animals.”
And he wouldn’t be awake to deal with them? She started imagining all sorts of creatures lumbering or slithering past them on the way to that last water they’d passed. Those animals had to come from somewhere!
She gripped her closed parasol like a weapon and glanced around her. Then heard: “I’m not going to tie you. Disturb my gals and I’ll wake up. Run off and I won’t care. You might last a few hours on foot, but I doubt it.”
Speechless, she glared at his back. The man was utterly coldhearted. She decided she preferred his silence to nasty warnings like that one.
Chapter Ten
VIOLET DIDN’T GET ANY more sleep. She just sat there huddled in her blanket for the remainder of the night. Morgan’s proximity didn’t help one bit to ease her fear when she knew she could be bitten by a snake or dragged off by a wolf or eaten by a bear before she could wake him up to kill it. There were just too many wild animals in this land, not enough people, and the towns were too far apart. Every little sound, even the swish of a mule’s tail, startled her, making her gasp.
It seemed incredible that only a few months ago she was being fitted for beautiful ball gowns. She’d been so excited with the Season approaching, had such hopes and wonderful possibilities before her. Thanks to her aunt and uncle’s sponsorship, she, an American, was going to have her debut in London. And she’d found the husband she wanted before the Season had even started, only to have to sail away the next day—to this.
All of her dreams had been coming true, but she couldn’t return to that upper-class world if her father’s mining venture wasn’t successful. That future, the one she wanted, hinged on finding his mine and it being a lucrative endeavor.
She kept feeding the fire with the extra branches. As the night wore on, she got hungry, but after Morgan’s warning, she wasn’t about to go looking through the mule packs for food. But she was going to wake him the very moment she saw the break of dawn, and kept watching the sky in all directions for it.
“Still here?”
She gasped and glanced back toward the fire to see him standing up. She wondered what had awoken him. It wasn’t dawn yet. But then he walked about ten feet away—to relieve himself. She rolled her eyes and pushed herself to her feet to head to the closest bush to do the same. She felt no embarrassment this time, and after massaging her legs all night, it wasn’t as painful to walk as it had been yesterday. Her leg muscles still hurt. It would probably be days yet before they returned to normal. Or before she was back in Butte.
She actually looked forward to that, which was amazing because she didn’t consider it a civilized town, but at least she could get a bath there, and a proper meal, and a laundress. And a new hat! Hers must have fallen off yesterday during all that trotting, and she hadn’t even noticed until last night. Morgan had already ruined it, so she’d only sighed a little over losing it. Two days in the same clothes, however, was scandalous and worth crying over, but she couldn’t very well change without taking a bath first, and she wasn’t going to get one out here. She felt so dirty after yesterday’s ride!
When she returned to the campfire, she saw Morgan saddling his horse. She had a feeling there wouldn’t be any breakfast before they departed, at least nothing that she couldn’t eat while riding. He confirmed that thought when he handed her two strips of hard jerky before stamping out the fire. She retrieved her canteen and parasol, slipping her hand through each strap to keep them on her wrist, then tried to gnaw off a piece of jerky. It wasn’t easy. If it didn’t have a salty taste, she would have suspected he’d given her leather to chew on.
“Put this on.”
She scowled when she saw him holding out a small empty sack. “Put it on what?”
“Your head. The rest of the way, you don’t get to see.”
She was mortified. But there was a bright side. If he didn’t want her to see how he reached his mine from here, it was because he intended to release her eventually. So he didn’t plan on killing her after all. But she couldn’t bring herself to put a sack on her head and refused to take it from him.
“I’ll faint with that covering my face if it gets as hot as it was yesterday,” she warned. “And a blindfold will do just as well, won’t it?”
He said nothing. He didn’t move either. If he insisted, she was going to balk and fight tooth and nail. Of course she’d fail. He was too bloody big. But he finally pulled the bandanna off his neck and tied it over her eyes. A concession! So he was capable of reason?
He picked her up again and placed her on his horse, but this time he mounted behind her. She even guessed why: so he could easily see if she tried to remove her blindfold. This extreme tactic smacked of fanaticism about keeping the location of his mine a secret from her, or perhaps anyone. Which made her wonder why he hadn’t shot her father for showing up near his mine. Or were the two mines not really that close together? Maybe it was only Shawn Sullivan that Morgan didn’t want in the area. But the man had seemed nice, his daughter even nicer. What exactly would happen if Sullivan learned of the location?
She really didn’t like being seated in front of Morgan. She felt too much of him behind her, and every time he did something with the reins he was holding, his forearms brushed against her waist. But she held her tongue, afraid he might turn around and refuse to take her to the mines if she fussed too much. Good grief, it was abhorrent that her future depended on this particular man!
As the morning grew warmer, she shrugged the blanket off her shoulders and opened her parasol, not realizing it would block Morgan’s view. But she found that out quick enough when he snatched it from her hand. He didn’t close it, simply placed it on her head as if it were a hat!
“Don’t lift it any higher or I’ll toss it away,” he growled as he put the handle back in her hand.
Violet sighed, aware that, once again, she must look ridiculous. Not that she cared. After all, for whom did she need to keep up appearances out here?
“How much longer before this nightmare ride ends and we reach your mine?”
“Depends.”
She snorted. “I’m beginning to think you don’t know.”