Silver Nights With You (Love in the Sierras Book 1) (10 page)

“So, brother,” Val interrupted the toil of his thoughts. “Tell me about your land.”

“You’ll be seeing it soon enough. I’m going to need your help collecting my cattle from the mountains.”

“Your cattle! You have cattle now, too?”

Morgan smiled through a ring of tobacco smoke.

He could feel it snug inside his vest pocket close to his heart. Over the past two years, he carried more than his weight in silver and gold, but he’d never felt as rich as he did in that moment. The deed to acres of lush green grass and forest, of river trout and mountainside, of grass-fed beef, was like hitting the mother lode to Morgan.

The hills were sprinkled with wildflower blooms, and he bent from his saddle to scoop a handful into his palm. He whistled a merry tune as he rounded the final bend to the boarding house. Lila was there, sitting on the porch steps waiting for him. She wore the same maroon skirt and tucked white blouse, but her hair was knotted at the back of her head. Her hat had a wide brim with tiny lavender flowers wrapped around its crown, and she had never looked lovelier as she flashed him a smile.

He leapt from his horse and bowed low before her, handing over the flowers. She chuckled.

“Why, thank you,” she said. “What are these for?”

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman on a beautiful day,” he replied.

“Well, you are certainly in a fine mood today.”

He stood upright and pulled the deed from his pocket, snapping it open like a cape. His smile spread, and a laugh came with it.

“It cost me more money than my parents made in their lifetimes, but I finally have a homestead.”

She read the deed, and her smile widened as she reached forward to give him a hug. “Oh, Morgan! I’m so thrilled for you!”

He accepted her embrace, and his arms tightened about her waist to lift her off her feet. He twirled her around right there in the road while she squealed. Her laughter rippled through the air, a fine melody harmonizing with his. She leaned her head back, and he watched her eyes close while they spun. He was so full of joy and unbridled optimism that he stopped in mid-twirl, dipped her into the full cradle of his arms, and kissed her.

There was no protest from her, no pull of resistance in her body. She went warm and limp in his arms, as if she had suddenly become as malleable as the silver that purchased his land. Her arms came up and wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her, and he was utterly intoxicated at the sign of her welcome.

White tufts of cottony seeds floated around them like snow from the canopy overhead. Her lips felt like velvet against his, at once lush and sensual, tempting his mouth to take more, to taste more. Soft and smooth, he urged them apart so that he could suckle gently on her top lip. He tugged slightly before tasting it with the tip of his tongue, and he felt the intake of her breath and a tremble shake its way down her spine. She pressed her chest against his, but her legs sank toward the earth like weepy poplar boughs. Morgan tightened his hold to keep her upright.

The brim of their hats pushed against each other the closer they drew, and Morgan's eyes fluttered open to find that hers were closed. The half-moons of her long lashes rested atop the delicate swell of her cheeks. Her features were relaxed and inviting, and he closed his eyes again to ensure every bit of sensory detail was focused on the sweet flavor of their kiss.

He nearly cursed aloud at the clatter of approaching hooves. Their eyes sprang open at the same time and he straightened, pulling her up with him. Not soon enough, however, as the trio of riders trotting past laughed and whooped their congratulatory hails toward Morgan. He cringed as Lila blushed and spun away from him, giving them her back. She rested a hand on her belly and stood silently for so long that he finally stepped up behind her and said her name, his voice full of calm and hope.

She turned back to him and whipped her hand across his face, sending a biting sting throughout his jowls. Her face was twisted in anger.

“It's
Miss Cameron!
” she spat. “I will not be going anywhere with you alone, Mr. Kelly. You are no gentleman.”

“I apologize for kissing you,” he returned calmly though his voice was heated at her insinuation. “I was overexcited, but I assure you I would never…”

“You would never take advantage of me in the middle of the road in broad daylight for all the world to see? Is that what you were going to say?”

The fury brightened her eyes to a shimmering green. Her hands were balled into fists on her hips, and her hat was pushed back off of her forehead. She looked flustered and flushed, and thoroughly kissed. Though Morgan’s body was tight with desire, his face scrunched defensively as he looked sideways at her.

“I kissed you, yes, but I didn’t
take advantage
of you. If you had protested in the slightest I would have released you. I promise.”

Her gasp was filled with shock and guilt. “Just
what
are you suggesting, sir!”

She dropped the wildflowers on the road, turned quickly on her heels and marched away before he could answer. Morgan stood still and wordlessly watched her stalk away. The rush of triumph that accompanied him down the hill dissolved. He bent to retrieve the deed from where it rested beside her bouquet and folded it back up and stuffed it into his pocket. Even it did not bring him joy in that moment.

The book in her lap was more decoration than distraction. She tried to read it but found her thoughts wandering right off the page before she realized that she’d read the same passage four times. With a huff, she closed the volume and relaxed into the porch rocker as she stared out at the mountain of mines. She hadn’t seen Morgan since she’d run from him earlier in the afternoon. She brought her hands tremulously to her lips. They still seemed warm from the heat of his mouth.

She had been kissed before, but never like
that.
It was common for a suitor to steal a chaste peck in a garden shadow, for her to bat her eyelashes coyly while she pulled away and returned to the moonlight, offering her hand to him instead. If he was lucky, she'd give him a piece of ribbon or other token to remember her by. She knew the game, had played it expertly, always feeling in control of whatever physical encounters appealed to her.

Not so with Morgan's kiss. Even now, several hours later, the effects were still coursing through her. She felt inflamed and breathless, witless and wordless. The way she responded to his kiss horrified her. It was as if all proper thoughts had flown from her head, her movements controlled by her body. Or rather, by his. She rubbed her fingers together, massaging the sting she still felt from slapping him. Her heart had not been behind that slap, but he didn't know that. She could tell by the way his features fell in response to her tirade, and she regretted the action. But she had been flustered to the point of panic.

After the riders disappeared from the road and it was just the two of them again, she couldn't face him. How could she after she'd practically thrown herself into his kiss? She was humiliated and ashamed. There was no way she could have gone riding alone with him after the way she behaved. Her nerves were firmly pricked, and the foreign sensations frightened her nearly to the point of darting inside the house, but she couldn’t leave him there without a word.

There was so much disappointment in his face when she chose the path of anger toward him. She nearly bit her tongue to keep it from lashing out, but it was what she needed to preserve her senses. She would rather he think she was furious at him for kissing her in public than to realize that she had been little more than a puddle in his arms. He could be forgiven for kissing her. As he said, he had been overexcited about his homestead, but what was her excuse? How could she justify her reaction when she didn’t understand it? It was as if her body had a will of its own, and she didn’t like the feeling.

She replayed the kiss several times in her mind, each time trying unsuccessfully to force revulsion into her blood instead of the hot rush of sweet chaos that sped through her. The feeling was unfamiliar and unwelcome. No one would command her body but her.

David rode up to the porch of the boarding house, and Lila’s horror deepened. What if he had seen them kissing? He would surely never speak to her or even look favorably in her direction. What kind of a woman would he think she was? First, her actions toward Samuel. Then, her brazenness with Morgan.

As he dismounted with a dimpled smile, Lila felt the strong tug of guilt in her chest. This was the man whose affection she craved, the man who’d stolen her heart from the first moment he leapt from his horse to save her life. He was the man she’d encouraged with flirting, the man who made her blush and giggle. The man who played by the same rules as she.
But not the man who set her blood on fire
. The thought came unbidden, and she fought it back down. How was she to know that her body wouldn’t respond the same to David’s kiss? He was just too gentlemanly to try.

She smiled brightly as he approached and handed her a package.

“What’s this?” she asked with tapered excitement.

“Open it,” he answered with a smirk.

She pursed her lips and went to work unwrapping the twine and brown packaging. When she lifted the box lid she sucked in a breath and turned wide eyes up at David. A dress of shimmering emerald silk was folded neatly. She lifted the bodice and ran her fingertips over the black lacing around the square neck. Tiny, sparkling beads were sewn in between the gatherings of lace, making the ornate piece sparkle in the waning sunlight. The sleeves were full and elbow-length, billowing forest green over lacy black ruffles. Next, she removed the skirt. It was solid emerald with decorative black stitching along the hem. She clutched the garment to her chest and looked at David with awe.

“It’s absolutely breathtaking,” she whispered. “I cannot accept such an expensive gift.”

Even as she said the words her heart broke. She wanted nothing more than to dash inside and lace the dress on. She hadn’t worn anything so fine in months and even then the garment could rival her best gowns. David had to have known her refusal for the empty platitude it was.

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. “The opera does have a dress code, after all.”

“The opera?” she asked, her breath thinning even more.

“Of course," he chirped. "Since you are now a resident of Gold Hill, I couldn't imagine taking any other woman to the debut of
Rita
. Would you do me the honor of accepting my invitation to the grand opening in two weeks?"

She could hardly speak, overcome as she was. The memory of her fantasizing in his room upon arrival almost made her giggle. What a handsome couple they would make. He was always dressed in the finest fashion, his hair and mustache neatly trimmed, and she was certain she would make a worthy escort in such a glamorous dress. Finally, she felt like her old self again. The familiarity was comforting. Her mouth fell open several times before she finally gathered her wits enough to respond.

“The honor is mine, but I will have to get approval from my father.” He nodded in acknowledgment just as Ellie made the call for supper.

Two weeks
, she thought. It seemed like a lifetime away.

The Kelly boys were absent from dinner, and though she noticed it, she was grateful. It allowed her more time to sit beside David and converse without the distraction of Morgan’s knowing eyes stoking her shame. He regaled her with tales of his mining escapades in the early days of the area when everyone was vigorously panning for gold. He told her of the discovery of silver, run-ins with local Indians and Mormons and about an Austrian man who would run mail across the Sierras in the dead of winter without stopping. She soaked up every tale with rapt interest, feasting on the sight of his dimpled smile all the while. She found most of the stories too incredible to be true, but David assured her that every word was verifiable.

“Just ask the Kellys,” he said. “They’ve been here for most of it.”

“So, you’ve been here as long as Morgan and Val?”

“Longer, actually. I came from the gold mines in California. Made my fortune there before prospecting out here long before they ever pulled a nugget from the desert. Fact is, I designed the first mill to be used this side of the Sierras.”

Her eyes sprang wide. "That is very impressive, David. A prospector and an inventor?" He grinned, accepting her compliment as she continued. “Can I ask why you don’t own your own mine? It seems to me you would have staked your claim if you were here first.”

His smile faded, and he sat back stiffly. She instantly regretted the question.

“I had a claim,” he said after clearing his throat, “but I sold it six months ago."

"Oh."

“Yeah, well into the boom, rich men poured in from California, buying up everybody’s mines. I was offered what I thought was a decent price at the time for mine. So, I took it.” He shook his head as he closed his eyes and pinched his lips.

“It turned out not to be such a decent price, I take it?”

“No,” he said angrily. “In the last six months that mine has produced a hundred times what I sold it for.”

The anger and bitterness twisted his handsome face, and she felt sorry for him. “And the Kellys?”

“They were offered a bit more. Since there are two of them they are entitled to more footage than I was, but they turned it down. Now, they are richer than kings.”

The news surprised her. Morgan and Val certainly didn't strut around like kings, nor did they dress the part, but the bitterness was so firmly drawn across David's face that she didn't delve any further into the situation.