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He heard the affection for her sister in her voice. When he’d known them in Nevada, the two had been very close. He was glad time hadn’t eroded their love for each other. Being an only child, he envied that sibling bond. “Eggs are real good, Eddy. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Did you enjoy the party last night?”

“I did.”

As he and Eddy chatted about the party and the people he’d been introduced to, Portia found herself further intrigued by him. Where most men were content to sit back and be waited upon, including her uncle whom she adored, Kent had seemed genuinely sincere about wanting to make his own eggs. Having grown up as the daughter of a prostitute, Portia learned at an early age that men could be vile, controlling, and prone to using their fists. Until she and Regan became Eddy’s wards, she never knew a man could be as tender and loving as Rhine was to their aunt. She’d been so wary of men it had taken her years to fully comprehend that Rhine and his former partner Jim Dade had no designs on her physically and would stand between her and a barreling train if necessary to keep her safe. Once she was able to come to grips with that, those parts of herself that were constantly on alert and fearful faded somewhat. She still tended to believe the world held more men like her mother’s customers and haberdashery owner Darian Day than the good and decent type like her uncle.

“Portia?” Eddy’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“I’m sorry. Wool gathering. Did I miss something?” She glanced over and saw Kent watching her with an unreadable expression. She moved her attention to her aunt.

“I said, I doubt we’ll be entertaining the Salts in the future. If I never see them again, it will be too soon.”

“How long have they been in Tucson?” Kent asked.

“Just a few weeks. Rhine met the husband at the barbershop and invited them to the party because he thought it would be a nice way for them to meet some folks. Who knew that as soon as they arrived, he’d pester Rhine for a loan?”

“A loan for what?” Portia asked.

“A grocery store, I believe.”

“And his collateral?” She saw Kent pause and view her as if she was the most interesting thing he’d seen in some time. Something inside her buzzed with an odd sense of pleasure.

“Rhine asked the same question. Salt said they could discuss it later.”

“I don’t want to be rude, Aunt Eddy, but I wouldn’t lend them rusty nails.”

“Agreed.”

“I thought you looked a bit put out when we walked up,” Portia said.

“I was. When the wife asked me what kind of hoodoo I used to snare such a handsome light-skinned man like your uncle, I almost punched her.”

“Glad I missed that,” Portia said, hiding her smile.

Eddy looked put out over the encounter all over again. “And we won’t even discuss the way that son of theirs sneered at Kent.”

“I ignored it,” he told her.

“I didn’t. When you and the girls left I told him if he sneered at any of my guests again, I’d have him thrown out.”

Kent said, “That wasn’t necessary, Eddy.”

“In my mind it was. It is my home after all.”

Portia saw him incline his head as if acquiescing.

“And, on top of all the other rude behavior, he had questions about you and Regan.”

Portia was instantly wary. “Such as?”

“Were you two married? Did you have beaus? Were you due to inherit Rhine’s estate? I told him your affairs were none of his business.”

Portia added, “He asked if he could call on me today so I could show him the sights. I turned him down.”

Edward Salt with his sneers and baby-soft hands had not made a good first impression. She found herself studying Kent’s hands as he wielded his fork. They were clean and the calluses and shadows of healed cuts and abrasions on his long fingers were the result of hard work. Catching herself wondering how it might feel to touch them, she quickly turned away, but not before seeing his amusement as if he’d peeked inside her head and knew what she’d been thinking.

Regan entered and her eyes were red and swollen.


Tags: Beverly Jenkins Old West Romance