She would have balked right then and there if Abigail weren’t pushing her from behind and pressing the gun to her back, forcing her up those stairs. And she’d thought Abigail was a kindly woman. What a bad judge of character she was! Sullivan must have ordered this. But why send a woman to do nasty work like this?
When they reached the door at the top of the stairs, Abigail whispered, “Open it!”
A lamp was lit in there, dimly illuminating an attic with a slanted roof. All sorts of boxes and furniture were stored there, pushed to one side, leaving a cleared area for a narrow bed. The person in it sat up as they walked in.
Violet stopped short, unable to take another step, horrified, thrilled, utterly confused. Her whisper was timorous: “Is—is that really you?”
“Come closer, Vi.”
Oh, God, it was Charles’s voice, his face. She burst into joyful tears. “Papa!” She ran to the bed to wrap her arms around her father. She clung to him tightly, afraid that if she didn’t he would disappear. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t dead! Please don’t let this be a dream!
“Let me look at you, sweetheart.”
“Not yet. I don’t want to wake up yet. Just hold me like you used to.”
He tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She felt his touch. She wasn’t dreaming. “How is this possible? You were buried!”
“Whoever or whatever was buried, it wasn’t me.”
She leaned back to look at his face, his wonderful face, thinner, a little older, but still the face of her dear father. “You’re alive. This is—you can’t imagine.”
“I’m glad to see you, too, darling. But what are you doing here? You shouldn’t have found out about any of this nasty business.”
“Daniel wrote to me in London, asking me to come home to deal with an urgent matter. I was shocked to find my brothers in dire straits and in danger of losing the house.”
“Why? I left them enough money.”
“No, they spent it all trying to keep up appearances as you instructed. So I came to find you.”
He sighed. “It should have been enough, and it would have been if I hadn’t had that accident. Where are your brothers now?”
“They’re still in Philadelphia—”
“I have three children, two of whom are strapping young men, and it’s my daughter who came to this wild territory alone to find me?!”
He sounded quite annoyed with the boys, so she quickly said, “They were trying to hold everything together at home and deal with the banker, who has already come close to seizing the house. Evan is even desperately courting an heiress, whom I hope he won’t have to marry now, because he didn’t sound smitten with her.”
Charles shook his head sadly. “This is my fault. I was foolish with my inheritance. I’m the one who didn’t do well by my children. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she assured him. “I don’t care if I ever have my debut in London, I’m just so happy you’re alive!”
“How long have you been in Montana?”
“A few weeks,” she said evasively. “When I was told that horrible news about you, well, I tried to find your mine to see if it could save the house, and I met Morgan—”
“What did you think of him?” he cut in.
“Oh, don’t get me started!”
He laughed, hugging her closer. “He does take getting used to.”
“But he definitely likes you. He’s lent us the money to pay off the house loan, so you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Now, what are you doing in this attic?”
“He was carried in unconscious,” Abigail said behind her.
The housekeeper! She’d forgotten Abigail was even in the room and glanced around to her. “Why didn’t you just tell me my father is alive?”
“And get this noisy reaction downstairs where Kayleigh or Mr. Sullivan might’ve heard you? They can’t know that your father is awake, or that you know he’s here, or I’ll never get him safely out of here. I’m sorry I startled you with the gun, but it was necessary to get you to come along quietly.”
