Good Lord, was he constantly going to make allusions to what they’d done last night? He’d saved her twice yesterday, first from harm, then from her horrific memories and fear. And the two outlaws had deserved to die, had killed people for no reason and without remorse. By getting rid of those two men, Morgan had likely saved countless other lives they would have taken. Yes, she could deal with that harrowing adventure pragmatically now. But she wasn’t sure she could deal with resisting Morgan.
“How are you feeling this morning? You were pretty shaken up yesterday.”
“I’m better,” she assured him.
“You still ought to rest up today, maybe give up on searching for your father’s money, or wait until Texas returns. He doesn’t sleep the entire day and could go with you some.”
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll have my gun.”
“That gun didn’t help you much yesterday,” he said pointedly.
“I erred in not using it, but I learn from my mistakes. I’ll fire off a shot immediately if I see anything that walks on two feet.”
“Well, help yourself to lunch today, since I might be late. There’s a lot I want to accomplish in the mine before we return to Butte next week to meet up with your brothers.”
“My brothers?”
“I asked Texas to go to town to send that money you wanted delivered to them. They’ll receive it in a couple days.”
So she’d accomplished her goal? The family home would be saved. She should be jumping for joy, but she had too many other things on her mind now: the way he was looking at her, noticing that he’d shaved again this morning, remembering that he’d buried his face in her hair last night after he spread it across her pillow, the very tender way he’d held her through the night.
She ate her breakfast, but after he left, she remained at the table, wallowing in regret. It didn’t matter how much she might like him, she’d ruined her life. She’d behaved recklessly and had given her virginity to a man she was never going to marry. And she might even be pregnant! She could imagine how appalled Aunt Elizabeth and Sophie would be by what she’d done. But after the terrifying run-in with the claim jumpers, who could blame her for seeking comfort in the arms of a man as attractive, strong, and decent as Morgan Callahan?
He’d come to like her, too. And he wanted her as much as she wanted him. There was no way they would be able to resist each other if they lived in this cabin together for another whole week. It would be wrong to allow it because she could never marry him.
She looked around the shabby cabin, saw her bloodstained clothes still on the floor, weapons lying around. This was no life for her. She knew what she had to do. She had to go back where she belonged, where death didn’t lurk around every corner. And she had to do it now. It couldn’t wait another day. What they’d done last night could never happen again, the risk was far too great: babies, a forced marriage—or, worse, he wouldn’t even offer marriage. Her life would be ruined in either case! And she wasnotgoing to end up pregnant. She refused to give up her dreams because of her sinful fascination with a bear.
She felt a sense of urgency to act, because given how easily she had succumbedandinitiated what had happened last night, she didn’t think she’d have the willpower to resist him, not with the way he looked now. And that name he’d called her, Thorny Violet, the way he said it, it was a bloody endearment! Tears sprang to her eyes, remembering.
•••
THE FIRST THREE HOURSflew by. The outlaw’s horse was a surprisingly strong and responsive mount, but she knew better than to push it. But with each mile that passed, Violet felt more confident that she’d done the right thing, leaving without saying good-bye. Morgan wasn’t ready to take her to town, and he would have argued against her going alone, leaving her no other option.
So she’d gathered up a few essential personal belongings, a canteen of water, a blanket, her valise and parasol, and the lunch he’d mentioned; then she’d saddled the horse. Following the outlaw’s directions, she’d be in Butte by late afternoon, where she’d have a real bath and sleep in a real bed. Thank goodness this strange adventure was almost over. She’d even accomplished what she’d set out to do: she’d claimed her father’s mine and secured her own and her brothers’ futures. The telegram Morgan had sent to her brothers could serve as a written confirmation of their new partnership. She’d let her brothers do the rest while she returned to London, and Morgan would end up with more of what mattered most to him, silver.
She’d followed the river north for a while until she came to a narrow section and crossed it, stopping only long enough to refill her canteen, then continued north until she found the road, exactly where she expected it to be—now. She couldn’t imagine how lost she would have been if she’d gone south as she would have if Curly hadn’t told her where Butte was in relation to Morgan’s mountain.
The dark clouds were overhead before she saw them coming. She’d been in this wilderness with Morgan for more than a week with not a drop of moisture from the sky. It wouldn’t dare rain today of all days. She continued on for another ten minutes before the rain started. Bloody hell. But she didn’t let a little rain stop her until a half hour later when it turned torrential and she took shelter under a rocky ledge. Wet, furious at this delay, she hoped the rain wouldn’t last too long. It was still early in the day. She could reach Butte before nightfall.
So she ate her lunch, waiting for the rain to stop. But night arrived and the rain kept pouring down. She felt less confident by then about her decision to leave the camp. All she could think about were the wild animals that roamed through the wilderness. She chided herself when she started wishing that Morgan were there. She kept telling herself she’d made the right decision, but she was so tired, wet, and hungry by then; she sat with her gun in hand, listening for cougars, bears, and snakes, trying to stay awake.
The horse nudged her awake the next morning. She was glad to see the sun shining. Her muscles aching, somehow she managed to mount the horse and continued riding. An hour later she panicked when she heard hoofbeats behind her. Morgan had caught up to her. Would he be furious? But when she glanced back, she saw a group of men. Had he sent a posse after her? No, of course not. He couldn’t have gotten ahead of her to arrange one, not in that downpour yesterday.
She continued on, hoping they would just ride past her, since they were moving faster than she was; instead, they pulled in abreast of her. One of them politely said, “Hold up, ma’am. Where are you headed? Are you lost? Do you need help?”
They were cleanly dressed and respectful. The one who spoke even tipped his hat to her. But away from Morgan, Violet was back to being prim and proper. She said, “I’m going to Butte, which I know isn’t far now. With whom am I speaking?”
“We were doing some surveying in the area for a mining outfit and are heading back to Butte, too. We’d be happy to ride with you and make sure you get there safely.”
She nodded her consent, pleased to have come upon decent men who merely wanted to help. They surrounded her on the ride, one in front, one on either side of her, and two behind. Soon she was sneezing from the dust being kicked up by the horse in front.
“Here, you can use this to keep the dust out of your face.”
She glanced to the side. One of the men was offering her a bandanna. “Thank you,” she said, reaching for it.
“Stop for a moment and let me tie it on for you,” he added. “Your hands are full with the reins and that pretty parasol.”
He was right, so she reined in while he leaned closer to reach her. But she smelled something funny as soon as the bandanna covered her nose. It made her light-headed, and a moment later she felt herself passing out.
