Chapter Thirty-Six
VIOLET’S GUN WAS INher valise. No one had searched it to see if she had a weapon, probably because she was a woman. She’d been told to leave the valise behind, that she wouldn’t need it, but she’d refused, so one of the men had tied it to her saddle. Having her own gun close at hand was the only thing that kept her from panicking during that long day of riding surrounded by guards who had the look of hardened men.
They definitely weren’t Shawn’s miners, each with a gun on their hip and a rifle on their saddle; they wore vests, their coats already removed—it was going to be another hot day. These were likely the men that Morgan had told her had broken into his crates at the train station and beaten her father in an alley. Irish easterners, probably from Chicago where Shawn was from and who obviously didn’t mind breaking the law any more than their employer did.
Kayleigh had awakened her at six o’clock that morning, telling her to be dressed to travel, as if she’d already agreed to this trip, so she’d replied, “An excellent idea, in case my brothers do agree to sell the mine.”
“Oh?”
“Obviously, none of us will have to come back this way if your brother knows where the mine is located.”
“Of course.” Kayleigh smiled. “Smart of you to finally realize that, lass.”
They had been a little late in leaving, due to some emergency at Sullivan’s mine that he’d had to deal with, so they hadn’t departed until nine o’clock. She’d had to mention when they left that it was going to take a day and a half to get to the mine. She’d expected that acquiring more provisions might delay them further, but they’d apparently already prepared for being gone several days.
It was another sweltering day on the road. And she couldn’t stop worrying. This plan had sounded fine when she’d discussed it last night with Abigail and her father, but what if Abigail was a part of Sullivan’s plan and was just pretending to be on their side? Had the housekeeper really gotten Charles out of the house today? Would the sheriff show up to rescue her?
At least she was pleased when they passed Morgan’s mountain. She made sure not to even glance at it. But when they made camp that night, Shawn Sullivan didn’t hide his impatience.
He joined her at the campfire where she was sitting. It was one of three his men had started, and they were close enough to the road for the sheriff to see the firelight if he hadn’t stopped for the night, too.
Sullivan looked frustrated and tired, but his tone was sharp when he said, “If you’ve lied about how long this trip is going to take—”
“I haven’t lied,” she cut in. “It took a full day and a half to get there, plus a few extra hours of Morgan riding at night. The last thing I saw before he blindfolded me was three mountains pretty far away in different directions, north, south, and east, similar to where we are now. I don’t know which one he headed to after that.”
“But you managed to get back to Butte. You can’t even remember that route?”
“What I did was get horribly lost for a day and a half until I had the good fortune to run across your surveyors. My only guess is that the mines are north of this road, because he did turn north at one point before I got blindfolded.”
He moved away, but her trembling set in as soon as he did. She didn’t know what she was going to do if the sheriff didn’t arrive soon, at least before dawn. She could only keep them on that road for about three more hours, because she’d already told Sullivan that they’d turned north. She was going to have to pick a spot to do that while the three mountains were still within view. Would the sheriff notice their tracks leaving the road tomorrow if he had halted his search for the night? Bloody hell, where was he? He should have arrived by now.
She’d been allowed to sleep by herself beside one of the campfires, a little distance away from the men. But she couldn’t sleep, was attuned to every little sound around her, a cough, a snore, the crackle of the fires, crickets that chirped too loudly, everything but the sound she most wanted to hear—the posse arriving. She felt like crying again, but didn’t. She wanted to escape, and gave that some thought. But that would give away her plan, reveal that she wasn’t really cooperating, so she forced herself to have faith in Abigail and the sheriff. She couldn’t lose her nerve at this point!
A hand went over her mouth. She hadn’t heard him coming but could see him clearly in the firelight, Morgan leaning over her. He’d come to rescue her again! He really did care for her. She tried to sit up. The hand on her mouth tightened. Did he think she’d give him away?
Before she realized what was happening, he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and moved silently away from Sullivan’s camp. Then he started running. She bounced painfully against his shoulder and back, gasping for breath. How long could he run and carry her this way? When he finally set her down on her feet, she leaned over, drawing air into her lungs. Morgan loomed over her, and she saw Caesar hobbled nearby. She straightened up and whispered, “Thank you for rescuing me again. This situation isn’t what it appears to be. I wasn’t taking Sullivan to your—”
“Shut up.”
He looked so furious she couldn’t keep silent. “I didn’t betray you!”
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “I don’t want to hear your lies.” His mouth covered hers abruptly in a kiss that was rough, passionate, and deeply satisfying. She slipped her hands around his neck and pressed her body against his, responding with equal fervor, so relieved he’d come for her, thrilled by the intensity of his desire and the way his hand was caressing her backside, pushing her closer to him. But... he’d said she was lying? She had to make him understand.
Pressing her hands against his shoulders, she shoved, and he stopped kissing her. When she looked up at his face, she was startled by the fierce anger in his eyes. She’d only seen it once before—the night she’d pointed the shotgun at him. “You’re mistaken—”
“No,youmade a mistake. You should have shown your true colors earlier. We could have had a lot more fun in the sack before you sold me out to Sullivan.”
“That’s not true!” She struggled to put some distance between them, but Morgan held on to her. “I’m here to help—”
They both froze at the sound of pistols cocking.
“Let the lady go, or you’ll get more than one bullet in your back.”
Violet gasped. Oh, God, three men were pointing pistols at them. Sullivan’s guards.
Morgan released her. One guard immediately confiscated his Colt. Another approached her to ask, “Are you all right, miss?” She just nodded. The third man took the hobbles off Caesar before they began the trek back to Sullivan’s campsite, two of the guards flanking Morgan, holding their guns ready.
As she walked, Violet couldn’t tell if she was shivering from the cold or trembling with fear for herself and Morgan. But she felt no relief when she saw the glow of the three campfires. Sullivan was standing by one of them. A guard ran ahead and spoke with him.
