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 too 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.
