“What happened to me?”
“You were riding with some of my brother’s men when you fainted. You were lucky to have run into them so they could get you back to Butte safely. Now, would you like me to have this food warmed up? I may have brought it too soon.”
Food? “No! Cold is fine, burned is fine, anything is fine. Really.”
She didn’t blush at how desperate she sounded, just tried to sit up, too eager to find the food before it was taken away. But she groaned and fell back against the pillow. Her back hurt; so did her arse. Had she fallen when she fainted, or was she still feeling the effects of sleeping on rock under that ledge? She didn’t remember falling, just that odd smell before she fainted. But if she’d broken something, she was going to cry. To have gotten so close to town without injury . . .
The woman tsked and leaned over her. “Just a prop-up for now, shall we?”
“Yes, and thank you,” Violet said as the other pillow on the bed was added to hers so she could sit up halfway; the tray was set on her lap.
“Of course, dear. How long were you starving out there in the wilderness?”
Violet brought the bowl to just under her chin. Soup? She wasn’t sick, she was hungry. But there were buttered buns on the tray, too, and a small bowl of strawberries.
“Since yesterday afternoon,” she said, and started spooning the soup into her mouth.
“I wouldn’t have thought your mine was so far away—that is, we assumed when you left town you did so with young Callahan, that he showed you the way. He wouldn’t bring you back to town?”
Violet managed not to frown, but the mention of her mine was too unexpected. How did this woman know about it and that she’d been with Morgan? And why would Shawn Sullivan’s men bring her here instead of to Dr. Cantry? Unless, as his sister had remarked, he’d organized a search for her. Because the law wasn’t doing enough to find her? Why not? Mr. Sullivan did know her, after all, and knew she was his daughter’s friend.
So she wasn’t sure if she should be worried about it or not, given that her view of Shawn Sullivan differed from Morgan’s. And nothing Morgan had said about the man had changed that, since it was all supposition, every bit of it, just part of his obsession with keeping the location of his mine secret. He’d even admitted that Mr. Sullivan kept offering a higher price for his mine. That alone should have assured him that Sullivan wanted to acquire it legally.
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