Silver Nights With You (Love in the Sierras Book 1) (11 page)

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He smiled down at her. “How could you upset me? Here you are, looking lovely and lowering yourself to enjoy dinner with me. You honor me, Lila, not upset me.”

She felt her cheeks stretching into a smile, and she couldn’t have stopped them if she wanted. “Lowering myself? You are one of the finest gentlemen I’ve ever known.”

“And you, Lila, are by far the most beautiful creature I’ve ever known.”

Though night had fallen, the warmth of the day still hung in the room, and Lila slid the window pane higher to allow a breeze. The coach patient, Isaac Swift, was resting against a mound of pillows and stared listlessly at the wall. She'd brought him a bowl of stew, but he refused to eat it. There was a glistening coat of sweat across his forehead, a telltale sign of his persistent pain, and the evidence of seepage was staining the bandage near his gunshot wound.

She'd convinced her father to remain in the dining room to take in the company and conversation. He'd been stuffed in this room since they arrived. Mr. Swift had not been pleased to see her, however, and her attempts to nurse him were stiffly shooed away. She tried her brightest smile and her sweetest voice, but he remained curt. As she stared out the window into the night sky, she heard the door open behind her and rolled her eyes at her father's obstinate dedication to his patients.

"I told you to stay and enjoy your evening, Papa," she said, but when she turned to deliver her scolding, it was Morgan who stood in the doorway. Her heart immediately set to pounding.

"Forgive me for intruding, Miss Cameron," he said. "I came to clear out the rest of mine and Val's belongings. Is now a good time or should I come back later?"

She couldn't think of a viable reason to send him away, so she nodded instead. "Please, help yourself."

He nodded and quietly shut the door behind him. His presence had such a powerful pull on her insides, and there was an intensity in his direct gaze. Finally, she turned to look out the window again. She was keenly aware of his movements and the sounds he made as he opened drawers and cabinets, but she suddenly heard a sound that did not come from Morgan. It was the painful wince of her patient. When she turned, he was using his one good arm to shift his body into an upright position, but it was a struggle.

"Here, let me help you," she said as she came to his side, but he fell back against the pillows and held his palm up to stop her.

"I don't need your help," he panted.

She stood with a huff and put her hands on her hips. "Yes, you do, Mr. Swift! Now, stop with the theatrics. I may be softhearted but I am also mule-headed, and I'll not have you ruining my father's good work on your shoulder simply because you don't want to be nursed by a woman. You are his first patient in Gold Hill, and what do you think it will do to his reputation here when people believe he can't even cure a simple gunshot wound? Hmm?"

His brow furrowed at her words.

"Are you trying to ruin my father's credibility?"

"Of course not," Isaac replied hastily, a touch of worry inching into his features.

"Well, then let me help you so you don't rip open that hole in your chest."

Though he was reluctant, he finally gave in with a nod and she sat on the bed beside him. Placing her forearm behind his neck, she grasped his good hand in hers.

"I'm going to pull you up, and then you lean your shoulder against mine until I can rearrange the pillows for you. Okay?"

He nodded and within seconds he was sitting upright. She felt the full weight of his body press into her shoulder, and she struggled to keep him stable while moving the pillows to support his lower back.

"Can you scoot yourself back at all?" she asked, and he answered by shifting his body backward by slow degrees. Once he was close enough to the headboard, she stacked the pillows and slowly eased him back against them. The muscles in her upper back burned from holding him up for so long, but she smiled.

"See? That wasn't so tough for either of us, was it?" She picked up the bowl of stew. "Now, let's get some food in you."

"I'm not hungry," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"I find that extremely difficult to believe. You haven't eaten a bite in three days."

"I don't need you to feed me like some helpless babe," he returned. "This entire situation is humiliating and emasculating."

"Be careful, Mr. Swift," she said as she leveled her eyes at him. "You are about to upset my good opinion of you with a remark like that. What you did on the coach was brave and noble. You earned your wounds heroically, and you should be full of pride, not self-pity. Let me show you my gratitude by helping you heal faster. Please?"

His eyes darted around the room as her words sank in. Slowly, his body relaxed, and the sharpness of his features faded. His voice was still gruff, but with an undertone of compliance.

"Well, let's see if the lady of this house can cook then," he said, nodding toward the stew. She smirked as she ladled a spoonful into his mouth. Her brows rose in question when he swallowed the bite. He nodded. "That's the finest bite of stew I reckon I've ever had."

"So, you'll take some more then?"

"Yes, ma'am. Shovel it on in here."

She laughed as she did just that. Halfway through the bowl, she realized how still and quiet the room was and wondered if Morgan had left. The steady crawl of tingles up her spine told her he was there, and that his eyes were focused on her. When she turned to confirm her suspicions, he was squatting near the other bed, an open bag filled with clothes set before him, and his eyes were pinned directly to hers. He didn't look away or try to hide the fact that he'd been staring at her, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked him, and he shook his head softly. He continued to peer into the depths of her eyes, flooding her body with heat. "Then, may I ask what you're doing?"

Slowly, the corners of his mouth curled upward, the grin producing a softening effect on his features. "I'm admiring you."

Her heart leapt against her rib cage with a violence that nearly caused her pain, her insides aflutter like a thousand beating butterfly wings. Her entire body tingled on the surface, but deep within she felt her stomach curl and the need to press her thighs together. If not for the intervening voice of Isaac, she would have wilted on the spot.

"As sweet as that is," he said, "I'm starving over here."

Lila tore her gaze from Morgan's as a hot blush filled her cheeks. She ignored it and the tumultuous workings of her insides as she spooned more food into Isaac's mouth. When their eyes met, he smiled knowingly, and she looked down into the bowl of stew, determined not to give either man the satisfaction of interpreting thoughts and feelings that she couldn't yet comprehend. 

Argyle came through the door just as she was scraping the last morsel. He nodded appreciatively at the empty bowl.

"I see you are feeling well enough to eat," he said to Isaac. "That is a good sign."

"Truth be told, doc, I don't think your daughter would have left me alone if I hadn't."

Argyle smiled. "Lila can always be counted on to pester a man into submission."

"Ha ha ha," she scoffed. "Can I get you another bowl, Mr. Swift?"

"That would be mighty fine of you," he said with a smile.

She stood to leave, and just as she was shoulder-to-shoulder with Morgan, her father called her name, and she turned back.

"David Gardner just sought me out downstairs," he said. "He told me that he's invited you to the grand opening of the opera house in a few weeks."

"Yes, he did," she answered with a smile. "They are opening with
Rita
. Of course I told him it was your decision."

Argyle scratched his chin as he studied her for a moment before his old blue eyes flicked to Morgan, who was watching the exchange with interest.

"What do you think, Morgan? Would you allow your daughter to the opera alone with David?"

"No," he said, and Lila huffed with a stamp of her foot. "But I’m afraid my opinion is biased and serving my own interest.”

A coat of surprise brightened the elder’s eyes. “Is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Argyle scanned the frame of Morgan Kelly. “Interesting.” He turned back to his daughter. "I will let you decide, Lila. If you know enough of David's character in two weeks to desire his company into town, I will give my consent."

"Thank you, Papa. Your trust in my judgment is heartwarming."

He nodded. "Run along now and get Mr. Swift some more food."

She gladly left the room.

Morgan was already at the dining table when she descended the next morning for breakfast, and he was chatting easily with her father. She placed herself as far from them as possible and only spared a glance in greeting. Val plopped into a chair beside Morgan and dug into a plate of food.

"Where's David?" Morgan asked.

"He's sleeping off last night," Val replied. "He didn't get in until about an hour ago."

"Well, he must be having a run of good luck since he hasn't had to work in two weeks."

Val laughed. "The way he looked this morning I'd say his luck has about run out."

Morgan shook his head, but said nothing, and Lila wondered about their conversation. Once they left with the rest of the miners, Lila sank back against her chair with a sigh. She was looking forward to a day in solitude. She could use the time to sort through all of her thoughts. Argyle studied her from across the table, so she smiled meekly.

“What do you intend to do with your day?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going up to Virginia City to see about purchasing some medical supplies. I need to send a telegram to my banker and have him wire some money so you can have more than one outfit to wear. Plus, I would like to introduce myself to the other doctor in town and get acquainted with the types of maladies common for this area. I take it none of this interests you enough to come along?”

She grimaced. “No, thank you.”

“Good,” he said with a smile. “Then, you can make yourself useful to Miss Ellie while I’m gone.”

“Useful how?” she asked warily.

“However she needs you. I expect you to earn your keep around here, daughter. You're not going to waste your days lounging around like Mr. Gardner. If the Lord only needed one day of rest who are you to take more? Besides, it’ll be good for you to learn the ways of domesticity. Life out here is different and I doubt you’ll find yourself being looked after by cooks and maids. You’ll have your own house to keep one day. You’d best learn how to do it.”

“You don’t know that, Pa,” she returned haughtily. “I could marry a rich man.”

“Ha! You’d best stop wasting your time with Mr. Gardner, then.”

“And just how do you know the state of his finances? He could be a millionaire.”

“That’s about as likely as you whipping up a five-course meal.”

She sat back with an indignant huff. “What does that mean?”

“It means that he is as rich as you are efficient in the kitchen.”

“I can cook!”

“My dear Lila, you could not even boil water without written instructions.” She sucked in a breath, wounded. “But don’t worry. I have every faith in Miss Ellie to work over your softness in due time. I’ve already spoken with her about it and she is expecting your assistance beginning today.” He rose and wiped his mustache with a linen napkin one last time before dropping it onto the plate. “Now, be a good girl and take these plates into the kitchen and wash them. I’m on my way out.”

He leaned down and kissed her stricken brow, leaving her too speechless to protest.

The curses against her father grew more and more detailed throughout the day so that by the time evening was threatening to fall and the miners began returning from their work, she had sentenced him one hundred ways to purgatory. The apron she wore was wet with steam and sloshed water. Her neck and face glistened with perspiration. Her sleeves were rolled up nearly to her armpits, her hair bundled under a bandana to keep the sweat from dripping into her eyes. She stirred filthy linens in a large cauldron that hung in the open lawn outside the kitchen. Of course she had to begin her education on laundry day!

Sadie was beside her, transferring steaming bed sheets into a barrel of cool water before hanging them over a line to dry. Lila had scrubbed an assortment of garments against a washboard until her knuckles bled only to be told to plunge them into the hot water for a better cleaning. Even after a day of scrubbing, sweeping, polishing, oiling, wood chopping, gardening, milking, churning and bread-kneading it was hard to be angry with Ellie. She was grateful for the extra help and spent the entire day thanking Lila and praising her quick learning. Indeed, Lila had begun to respect the proprietress and all that she managed to accomplish in a single day.

As she used the large wooden plunger to remove the last bits of clothing from the boiling pot she nearly wept with relief that the job was done. She leaned against the leg of the tripod to rest, but the break was short-lived. One-by-one, miners approached and removed their shirts, tossing them into the pot with a happy greeting. Her mouth fell open as she watched the cauldron fill up again. She fought the urge to scream and stomp the ground with angry feet. Instead, she picked up the plunger and began furiously shoving the shirts beneath the surface of the water.

“
Learn the ways of domesticity
,” she mocked in a mousy voice under her breath. “It’s not as if I haven’t had to work in my life. Spending long days inside slaving over French lessons, German lessons, Latin, piano, literature, mathematics, embroidery, painting, all while my friends were having tea parties and riding their horses in the park!” She wiped her forehead with the side of her arm. “
You couldn’t even boil water without instruction
. Ha! Well, I’ve certainly boiled enough water today to dispel that notion, father!”

The line of miners stopped moving and she was aware of a body standing in front of the cauldron. She looked up to find the amused face of Morgan Kelly watching her while she stirred.

“Who are you talking to?” he asked with a smile.

“My father,” she shot back and Morgan made a sweep of the area with his eyes to demonstrate that Argyle was nowhere nearby, and she rolled her eyes. “I know he’s not here, which is perfect because if he were…” She shook her head without finishing the threat, but Morgan chuckled.

“So, you’ve had a good day, then?” he mocked, and she straightened, putting her hands on her hips.

“Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Kelly?”

“Well, since you offered…” He reached up and pulled his shirt off, showing her the hard lines of his muscles again. She looked him up and down once before averting her eyes. “Would you mind washing my shirt for me?”

“Yes, I mind,” she snapped, facing him again. “I mind washing your shirt, his shirt, and everybody else’s shirts while I’ve only got one to my name and it hasn’t been washed in three days.”

“Very well,” he said, bundling the shirt and turning away. “I’ll wash it myself then.”

He began to walk away, and she reached out and jerked the shirt from his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t say I wouldn’t wash it. I just said I minded washing it. You pay Ellie for the service and I’m apparently working for her now. Wash it I must, so wash it I shall!” She shoved it beneath the water with the rest of the shirts.

“Well, I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart,” he said, leaning toward her with a hand over his chest.

She looked sideways at him. “Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all.” His lips turned up on one side of his mouth.

She scowled. “Do
not
tempt me to tilt this cauldron on you, Morgan Kelly. Not today.”

“I can see your good humor has fled. Perhaps when you are through I can interest you in a walk to the hot springs for a soak. It's a perfect remedy for aching bodies…”

"I see," she drawled, nodding her head slowly. "And just what will
you
be doing while I'm soaking my aching body?"

"Watching." The look on his face was pure innocence, but the light in his eyes was the smolder of desire. "Watching out for your privacy, of course."

Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head in exasperation. "Well, you've just made up my mind, Mr. Kelly. I will not be doing anything with you alone.”

He chuckled. “This will be worth it.”

“Ugh,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “What is it with men? You think simply because your bodies are beautiful that any woman will abandon her good sense and do as you will?”

Morgan’s smile widened. “I don’t think that. However, I think that if a lady were so impervious to such physical beauty she would have no reason to fear a private outing with the occupant of that body.”

She tilted her head, annoyed. “Those kind of mind games don’t work on me. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”

He chuckled and moved on, stopping to address her one last time. “You know, women think the same thing.”

She frowned in confusion.

“That because your bodies are beautiful a man will abandon his good sense and do your will,” he clarified. She snorted and returned her gaze to the cauldron. “Of course, in your case they’d be right.” Her head snapped up, and she watched his eyes rake her figure. Suddenly, the heat of her body was coming from the inside, not the outside. “God help the men in this town when you figure that out, Miss Cameron.”

She stared at him long after he’d gone. When she glanced over at Sadie, the petite brunette smiled knowingly, and Lila couldn’t help but laugh. She knew she was blushing, and she thanked the Lord for the steaming pot beneath her to excuse it. Her cheeks twitched to grin but she forced them back into a frown. She had to do this several times before she was done.

By the time the laundry was all washed, rinsed and hung, she was starving. Ellie had a plate ready for her in the kitchen, but the space was too stifling with the heat from the oven fires. She knew she was in no condition to sit at the dining table so she followed the porch around to the front of the house and took her meal in the rocking chair to watch the sunset.

Lila was cutting through a few stems of carrots when her father rolled up in a carriage, paid the driver and made his way toward the house. She was determined that he wouldn’t get any satisfaction out of being proven right. So, she smiled brightly as he approached.

“Good evening,” she said cheerily.

“Good evening. I see you have had a busy day,” he took in her rolled sleeves, bundled hair, sweaty bandana and apron.

“Quite. You were right about Miss Ellie. She is a walking wealth of skills.”

“As suspected. It will be good for you to learn from her.”

“I agree. Thank you for arranging it for me. I expected the day to be a lot more difficult, but it’s nothing compared to all of those intense lessons you and Mother forced on me through the years.”

Argyle hid his smile easily beneath the bush of his mustache. “I’m glad to hear it. In truth, I had worried that you might be too…
delicate
…for the tasks. I’m happy to see that you are proving to be as hearty as the western stock.”

Pride flared into a giant flame inside of her, but she swatted it back and faked a pout. “I’m wounded, Pa, that you would think me so fragile.”

“It won’t happen again, I assure you.” He stopped beside her. “Will you not come in and share a glass of wine with me?”

“No, thank you,” she said sweetly. “I am enjoying the sunset.”

He nodded and went inside just as David was exiting. They greeted each other and then David stood beside her. He looked revived and refreshed, the exact opposite condition of hers at the moment.

“Would you care to accompany me to the dance hall this evening, Lila?” he asked.

She was so exhausted that she couldn’t even muster up the desire to dance. Not even a bath appealed to her anymore. Her eyes were beginning to droop at the corners, and she realized the mistake she’d made in sitting down. The muscles in her back had become so tight and stiff that she didn’t think she would be able to stand without assistance.

“Thank you for the invitation,” she said weakly. “I can’t. I am simply too exhausted. Would you mind helping me stand so that I can retire?”

"Certainly."

David hooked his hand around her elbow and took her empty plate. When they entered the house, Morgan's head tilted up, and he scowled when he saw them together. A warm smugness nestled in her belly at the sight, and it was enough to chase away the exhaustion and soreness. She tugged gently on David's arm, and he looked down at her.

"I've changed my mind about going to bed," she said. "I'm not dressed properly for a dance hall, and I don't have another outfit to change into, but I would like to go for a short walk if you've a mind to escort me?"

"If you feel up to it, it would be my pleasure."

After washing her plate and removing the bandana from her hair, she and David left the boarding house and strolled down the road in the moonlight. David kept his hands clasped behind his back and studied the sky as they went. The air was still and warm, and Lila chewed on her bottom lip as she searched for a conversation topic.

"Have you read any of Charles Dickens?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Oh, you simply must! I adore his writing. Whose works do you admire?"

David swallowed uneasily and cleared his throat. "I don't read much, Lila. I'm generally too busy to indulge in that pastime, regrettably."

She frowned. "Yes, I can see how that might happen here, especially after the day I had today."

"Have you ever played cards, Lila?" he asked almost as soon as she uttered her last word.

"Not really," she answered. "My parents were fond of whist, but I never took to it."

David laughed. "I mean real cards, like poker or faro or blackjack."

"Never."

He harrumphed. "That settles it then. I will teach you. It can be a valuable skill to have out here, a life-saving one at that."

She raised a skeptical brow. "Poker-playing is a valuable skill?"

"For certain. Many men have won homes, land, mines, jewelry, and money besides, at the tables in Virginia City."

She snorted. "Which means that many men have
lost
homes, land, mines, jewelry and money at the tables in Virginia City."

He looked sideways at her. "I take it you don't like the thrill of chance much?"

"We are beholden to chance every day. I see no reason to try and cheat it."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Lila."

"Yes, but why not invest in a more stable, secure venture, like a trade or a societal demand? Something productive and something honest?"

"I have, and let me tell you there is more profit to be had at the tables than in industry. The grand idea that hard work equals great reward is naïve."

She frowned. "That is a very cynical point of view."

"It is," he nodded. "But I come by it honestly."

Their voices fell silent, and she studied the ground. Her long day was wearing on her mind as much as her body. She attributed her sudden irritation to that and not to the conversation she'd just had with David. Still, she asked him to turn around and walk her back to the boarding house, where she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.