“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.