Another good idea—or it would have been if she hadn’t seen the man leading a horse through the trees toward her. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, a gun belt, and a vest over a blue shirt. Was he a cowboy? He didn’t look like a miner. She ducked behind the nearest pine tree before he could see her, but the trunk wasn’t as wide as her skirt!
“Lost, missy?” he called out.
What had Morgan said? To shoot any strangers she encountered? But this was just one man, not the two claim jumpers he’d mentioned, and this man might be a lawman out looking for those two thieves. In any case, she couldn’t very well shoot anyone without reason. Morgan should have known she wouldn’t. Still, she raised her Colt to eye level and supported her arm before she stepped around the tree to point the weapon at the stranger.
Now he was maybe only thirty feet away, close enough for her to note his curly brown shoulder-length hair, dark eyes, and mustache. He continued to approach her.
“Stay back,” she warned nervously. “I have a couple partners nearby.”
He reined in. “Careful with that gun. Don’t want to shoot yourself.”
“If I do, the shot will be heard. If I shoot you instead, the shot will be heard. Either way, help will be here in minutes, so why don’t you just head back down the hill, then no one will get hurt.”
“You sure do talk funny, but you’re not being very friendly. I could use some grub if you have a camp close by.”
She didn’t lower the Colt, kept it aimed directly at his chest. If she screamed, would Morgan hear it, as far south as she’d gone? But the man might draw his own gun if she did. Oh, God, a shooting match here in the forest? She started to tremble with fear and gripped her arm and the Colt tighter so he wouldn’t notice.
“I can’t take you there,” she said.
“ ’Cause you’re alone up here?”
“No, I’m not, but my partner doesn’t like visitors. He tends to shoot them on sight.”
He laughed. “I reckon I know who that is. So he’s still here after all this time?”
“Who?”
“The miner. Not surprised he got himself a pretty little gal up here to keep him company—and it took you long enough.”
She didn’t understand what he meant until a gloved hand clamped down over her mouth and the Colt was pulled out of her hand. There were two of them. And now it was too late to scream.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“HAVEN’T SEEN YOU LOOKING like that in a while,” Texas remarked, and dug an extra mug out of his supplies when Morgan came up the cliff slope to his camp. “You trying to make me homesick?”
Morgan fingered his freshly shaven cheeks before he sat on one of the crates Texas used for chairs. “Figured it was time to get back in the habit, since I don’t reckon we’ll be here much longer.”
“What’d she say about the new you?”
“What’s she got to do with it?”
Texas grinned and teased, “After last night, I’d say everything. But she won’t recognize you, that’s for sure. You might even get a scream or two. So make sure she ain’t holding that gun you gave her first.”
Morgan snorted and poured himself some coffee. He wasn’t sure why he’d waited until Violet left camp this morning to shave off his beard and most of his mustache. He wasn’t sure why he’d gotten the urge to anyway. Just because she’d called him shaggy the other day at the river? It was a bad idea he was already regretting, since he anticipated her teasing him about it, thinking he’d done it just for her.
He tried to put that annoying female from his mind and drank from his mug, staring at the panoramic view of the mountain range stretching to the south. “If it wouldn’t have been a pain in the ass making stairs long enough to get to the bottom of the cliff, I might’ve put my cabin up here. Damn fine view you got.”
“As if you’re ever out of the mine long enough to notice a view.”
“Yeah, well, that’s probably why I didn’t. Got something that needs to be done, and I’d appreciate you doing it today. That loan Charley was so worried about, it’s been burning money in bank interest instead of getting paid off. Violet talked me into a loan so she and her brothers can get rid of it.”
“Was the bargain too good to resist?”
Morgan chuckled. “Ladies don’t make bargains like that. She tossed out logic instead, reminding me that I’d been helping Charley to that same end. It was a good point. And she promised that her brothers would show up to work it off.”
“Without asking them first?”
“I have a feeling that won’t be an issue. You didn’t notice how bossy she is?”
“Can’t say that I did.”
“Well, she doesn’t ask, she demands. Probably a habit she developed when she mothered her brothers.”
Which prompted the question, “Are those boys old enough to mine?”
“Older than her.”
Texas laughed. “Yeah, that’s bossy.”
Morgan handed his friend a piece of paper. Texas glanced at it and said, “That’s mighty generous of you.”
“That’s how much I liked Charley.”
He wasn’t even sure how that had happened, and so quickly. It wasn’t because Charley reminded him of his own father. They were nothing alike. But he’d admired his gumption, his determination to do right by his sons at any cost; and the fact was, the man was a sweet-talker. In that, he’d reminded him of his brother Hunter who could sweet-talk his way around anything. And Morgan had simply enjoyed Charley’s company.
“The instructions and both addresses are on that,” Morgan said. “Send the first telegram to the Mellings, the silversmith brothers I deal with. Have them send three thousand from my account to the Mitchells, and sign that one from me. Send the second telegram to Violet’s brothers, telling them to expect to receive the money to pay off their loan from the Melling brothers, and to come to Butte as soon as it’s done. Sign that one from her.”
“You want me to take the little lady back to town to wait for her brothers?”
“No, I’ll take her to Butte next week. It’ll take at least that long for them to get here. But once I show them how to use the smelter, it’ll be time for me to pull up stakes and go home.”
“Well, hot damn,” Texas said with a big grin.
“Yeah, it’s time.” Morgan grinned back.
Texas got up to start saddling his horse. “I’ll be spending the night in Butte after I finish your business, so don’t expect me back until tomorrow.”
“I figured,” Morgan said, and headed back down the hill to get lunch started.
There was no sign of Violet yet, but she’d been consistent about returning around noon to eat before she headed out again. He hoped she did find that money Charley had hidden before it was time to leave. It would make her happy, something she could remember when he explained why he wouldn’t partner with her brothers permanently. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.
Like Charley, Violet’s brothers were eastern-bred gentlemen who wouldn’t want to dig in a mine for very long. They would grow tired and dissatisfied and would want to bring men up here to do the work for them. But as long as Shawn Sullivan was around, they wouldn’t be safe doing that. However, if he allowed them to mine for a limited time, perhaps two months, they would make enough money to last them a lifetime. They could leave as rich men before they got fed up—or, worse, got careless and led Sullivan here.
Morgan finished making lunch and sat on the porch waiting. To go by the sun inching onto the boards above the steps, Violet was about an hour late. Bo lay in the open doorway, as if he, too, were waiting for Violet.
“This is going to look silly if she opens the gate just as I saddle Caesar to go look for her,” he said as he stepped over Bo to get his rifle. Coming back to lean against the doorframe, he glanced down at the dog. “She’ll think I got worried. Can’t have that. Ten more minutes? Wag your tail if you agree. Wag your tail if you disagree—yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re to
o accommodating, Bo.”
“Hello in the cabin!”
Morgan straightened immediately and raised his rifle, his eyes scanning the area until he spotted the hat close to the ground on the other side of the fence by the gate. Since he’d been watching for Violet in that direction, whoever was out there had to have slithered up from the stream. Without a horse. No doubt it was tied farther down the slope out of sight.
“How many are you?” he called out.
“Just me, and I’ve come to talk.”
“We’ve met, haven’t we?”
“You could say that.”
“Figured you two had left the area.”
“We did, but we keep checking on you from time to time. And today was our lucky day. We’ve got your woman. Give us your mine and we’ll give her back.”
His answer was to shoot the hat. It flew backward, but there was no head under it. He heard a laugh, likely from behind one of the trees down there.
Rifle pointed between the two closest trees, Morgan said, “She owns the other mine here and you already got her. One of you marry her and you’re all set.” If they were stupid enough to go looking for a preacher, he could easily ambush them on the way.
“She is a fine-looking filly. My brother might go for that.”
“But he’s not here to say. Course, if you intend to mine next to me, I’ll shoot your ass.”
He fired off two rounds, hitting each of the two closest trees. That caused a nervous yell. “You can’t kill me, dumb-ass! She’s tucked away where you won’t find her. And if I don’t come back, she dies.”
“You should have moved on last year. Now you’ve pissed me off.” Morgan fired off two more rounds.
“Cut it out! He really will kill her if I don’t come back with a deal.”
Morgan took a deep breath to calm his fury. That didn’t work. He tried it three more times, but this kind of rage wasn’t going away. But it wasn’t in his voice when he said, “All right, I’m lowering my rifle. If you want to come to terms, show yourself.”
The blond man who stepped out from behind the tree was hefty. Good, a nice target. And a gun was in his hand, but he’d spread both arms wide, so the weapon wasn’t pointed toward the house.
“I’m planning to leave this camp pretty soon,” Morgan said. “I’ll give you two thousand for the woman. It would take you a year to make that much mining without a smelter.” That wasn’t even close to true, but he had a feeling these two wannabe miners didn’t have a clue.
“You got one of those.”
Morgan nodded. “I do, but the smelter goes with me, and I’m blowing up these mines when I leave. You should accept my offer. It’s going down in value as we speak. One thousand for the woman. In fact”—he raised his rifle and fired—“I’ll fetch her myself.”
The man had fallen to the ground with a bullet in his leg. He was still in view and easy enough to finish off, but Morgan didn’t want him dead, so he let the claim jumper crawl back behind a tree for cover while he stepped into the cabin.
He waited for about five minutes before he yelled out the door, “You know it would be easy to finish you off. I advise you to toss your gun over the fence before I finish my lunch and agree to take me to the woman. Think carefully. You and your brother have been a pain in my ass for too long.”
“You don’t really want her back, do you?” was growled angrily.
He wanted her back too much, but he answered, “I’d rather kill you and your brother, so the only way you get to live is to take me to her. Ten minutes to make up your mind.”
He didn’t expect the man to surrender. He just wanted to give him enough time to get to his horse and flee. Then he could follow the blood trail straight to Violet.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
VIOLET HAD JUST LEARNED from firsthand experience that hindsight was useless. She realized now that she should have fired her weapon immediately when she’d had the chance, even if she’d only taken a warning shot. Morgan would have heard the shot and come to investigate, and her heart wouldn’t be pounding with fear.
But Morgan would know by now that she had been captured. The man who had gagged her had ridden off to tell him so, while the other one had ridden with her down the hill, then south along the base of the mountain range until he finally came to a temporary-looking camp. They seemed to think they could get Morgan to abandon his mine in exchange for her return. They were in for a nasty surprise.
She really wished she didn’t know who these men were, but she did, the claim jumpers who had tried to kill Morgan last year, the two he’d looked for but never found. She’d gleaned as much from what the men had said to each other.
As soon as she was set on the ground and her gag was removed, the curly-haired man asked, “What’s your name, honey?” When she didn’t answer, he grinned and pointed at his hair, volunteering, “Family calls me Curly, enemies aren’t so nice. Real name is well-known. Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”
She ignored his humor, but wanted to talk to him so he wouldn’t think she was afraid of him. “You don’t actually live on this range, do you?” Her mouth was so dry after being gagged that her voice sounded scratchy.
“Live outdoors? Why would we? We’ve been living in comfort in Helena for a few years now. Roughing it out here is for loners like your friend, though even he finally built himself a house. Did he do that for you?”
It didn’t sound as if they knew about Texas. And they certainly didn’t know much about Morgan.
“No, he didn’t,” she said. “He doesn’t like me, considers me a thorn, which you’ve managed to rid him of. I’m sure it wasn’t your intention, but you’ve done him a favor.”
His dark brown eyes moved over her in an insulting manner before he laughed. “Then we win either way, ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t mind keeping you for a spell. Would you like that?”
Her stomach turned in repugnance. She glanced away so he wouldn’t see the fear in her eyes. Her feet weren’t tied, but her wrists were still bound in front of her; however, she didn’t think about running. That would just give him an excuse to put his hands on her. She hoped Curly wouldn’t try to assault her, at least not before they had Morgan’s answer. Would Morgan give up his mine for her? Stupid question—of course he wouldn’t. But she imagined he would get angry when he heard the claim jumpers’ demand. That would be like poking a bear. . . .
He handed her a canteen. “Sit. Striking a bargain with the miner might take a while.”
As thirsty as she was, it was frustrating that he’d given her a canteen without removing the cap for her, and he wasn’t offering to untie her so she could open it herself. Did he want her to ask him for help? Or was he making it clear she was completely at their mercy? He’d already turned his back on her to watch the path below. So she sat, placing the canteen in her lap long enough to get the cap off so she could bring it to her lips with both hands—and loudly spewed the liquid out of her mouth. Whiskey?!
He heard the spewing. “Damn, wrong one. That weren’t intentional.”
As if she would believe that, but he did fetch a different canteen. She smelled its contents this time before she drank, then watched him go to his horse again. He came back with three strips of jerky for her. She wasn’t hungry, although she ought to be, as late in the afternoon as it was, but there was a deep queasiness in her belly instead. Fear. She thought she was doing pretty well at hiding it. She wasn’t sure if she feared just for herself, or for Morgan, too.
Morgan might shoot before he was even told that they had her. He had a bloody sign on his gate proclaiming that’s exactly what he would do. Then he wouldn’t be able to find her. But he would look. He was an honorable man who wouldn’t stand by and do nothing when he knew a woman was in danger. And he’d shown her in too many ways that he cared about her welfare—also that he was attracted to her. But what if he got hurt in a shoot-out with the claim jumper? It could already have happened. Would shots from the mine be heard this far away?
She had to get out of this herself.
She stared at the horse, which was still saddled. She could escape if she could get on it before the claim jumper yanked her off. She couldn’t try it yet. They were both the same distance from it.
“Do I need to tie your feet, too?”
She glanced at him and saw that he’d been watching her calculating her options. She tried distracting him. “If you live in Helena, why do you come to this mountain?”
“Never would’ve if we didn’t see the miner heading up it last year on our way to Billings. It was my brother’s idea to make the detour to see what he was up to.”
“And steal his mine?”
He grinned. “Seemed like a good idea at the time, though it didn’t work out too well. He’s pretty good with a gun for a miner. But we’ve checked back a few times to see if he’s moved on, since we pass this range no matter which route we take to Wyoming to sneak in and visit our ma. Thought we got lucky last year when we found his camp empty, but it didn’t really look deserted, so we hid till night to see if he was only out hunting. When he didn’t show, we got enough ore out of there to fill our bags. That was a nice payday and got my brother determined to take over that mine eventually. Since then he’s put up a damn steel door. Not so easy now to help ourselves to his silver. But we’ve been waiting patiently for another chance, and today on our way to Butte, patience surely has paid off.”
“Butte?”
“Yeah, that town over yonder,” he said, pointing his thumb behind him.