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“You should’ve seen the look she shot Ruth when Ruth tried to go after you. I think everyone in the room knew which way the wind was blowing after that. My apologies for thinking I could control who you’d choose to love, too.”

And because his father was dying and the knowledge was heartbreaking, he replied sincerely, “Apology accepted.”

Later as Kent lay in bed surrounded by the darkness, his heart still ached. For all their differences and years of conflict, the knowledge that Oliver would spend the last months of his life wracked by pain from disease was not something he’d ever envisioned. He wiped away the tears dampening his cheeks. Why couldn’t he simply die of old age while he slept? he wanted to shout, but he knew fate didn’t care. Having never known his mother, Kent hadn’t grieved her, even though he’d desperately wanted a mother like other children while he was growing up. But Oliver had always been there, even when he hadn’t wanted him to be, and Kent could already feel the hole his death would leave in his life. They’d discussed the money he would inherit and it was a surprisingly large sum. Oliver had come to Virginia City in the early sixties at the beginning of the silver boom, and like many of the city’s residents, his accumulated investments had left him a wealthy man. If Rhine approved Kent’s request to purchase the Blanchard property, he’d have no problem meeting the price, and there’d be more than enough left over to found the beginnings of a good life for himself and Portia. Oliver’s impending demise made Kent want to go knock on her door right then and there, and ask her to be his wife because each passing day brought them both closer to their own deaths, and he wanted to spend every second of his remaining time on earth by her side.

Because the members of the Fontaine household, including Matt and Kent had agreed to help out the Lanes, Portia had been left with the task of getting Ruth and the Randolphs to the rodeo. But when she went to their suite to see if they were ready, Sylvia said, “Honey, Oliver isn’t feeling well this morning. Would it be okay if we stayed behind?”

He looked listless and tired. “Certainly,” she replied. “Is there anything I can do for you to make you more comfortable, Mr.Randolph?”

He gave her a weary smile. “No. I just need to rest up. The train ride took more out of me than I expected.”

“I understand. Sarah and the maids will be here, so if you need anything just ask. They’ll bring you meals, too.”

Sylvia said, “Thank you. Ruth still wants to go though. Can she ride over with you?”

Portia took in the girl’s face and reminded herself to be kind. “Do you need a mount or would you prefer we take the buggy?”

“I don’t ride.”

Portia kept her disappointment hidden. She preferred to travel by horseback. “Then we’ll take the buggy.”

Leaving the Randolphs behind, Portia and Ruth set out on the hour ride to the Lanes’ ranch. It would have been a much shorter journey riding Arizona, but Portia swallowed her pique and kept the horses at an even pace. “Where are you from originally, Ruth?”

“Chicago so I’m not accustomed to all this heat.”

“Definitely different than what you’re used to.”

“It really is. Can I say something?”

Portia looked over. “Sure.”

“I want to apologize for last night. Mr.Randolph gave me the impression that his son would be receptive to me as a potential intended but obviously hadn’t talked to his son beforehand.”

“No apologies needed.”

“Thank you for being so kind. Can we start over—you and I?”

Portia decided she liked Ruth Adams after all. “Certainly.”

“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. “Kent wouldn’t happen to have a brother, would he?”

Portia saw the humor twinkling in Ruth’s eyes. They laughed, and Portia looked forward to the rest of the day.

The Lanes’ reputation of putting on a great event was so well earned, travelers came from as far away as California, Texas, and the northernmost provinces of Mexico to compete, eat, and have a good time. As a result, the closer Portia and Ruth drew to the ranch, the more congested the road became with buggies, wagons, and riders. Portia waved at the people she knew and when they called out greetings, she responded in kind.

“I wasn’t expecting all this,” Ruth exclaimed, taking in all the traffic and riders.

“We’ll probably have to park a good distance away. Hope you don’t mind walking.”

“I don’t. This is exciting. I’ll bet a girl could find a husband here.”

Portia grinned. “Are you truly looking for one?”

“I am. I have a good job and a wonderful life back in Chicago, but I’m ready to get married and have some babies before I’m too old.”

“Then how about I introduce you around?”

“I’d like that.”


Tags: Beverly Jenkins Old West Romance