Breathless

by Beverly Jenkins

Oliver added, “Beauties, too. Just like your aunt.”

  Portia was pleased to see the smile on Kent’s face. She hoped it meant he and his father were enjoying each other’s company so far.

  They were then introduced to Sylvie’s great-niece, Ruth. Portia thought she seemed pleasant enough. She was a teacher, which Portia always considered an honorable and valued profession until meeting the pompous Edward Salt. She realized she hadn’t seen him or his parents in some time. She hoped that meant they’d given up their quest to squirm their way into Rhine’s good graces and had left Tucson.

  At dinner the conversation flowed around the table about the upcoming rodeo, how old friends were faring back in Virginia City, Geronimo’s escape, and more. Portia noticed that Ruth kept looking at Kent. The observations were discreet and short but he was definitely her main focus. He was so engrossed in the lively conversation that if he noticed Ruth’s interest he didn’t let on, and Portia had to wonder what it all meant. Had the woman developed an instant attraction to him in the way Elvenna Green had? And why did Portia feel the urge to shake her and demand that she stop looking at him? Lord, I’m jealous! That admission might have surprised her if she hadn’t suffered similar feelings with Elvenna. Previous to her, Portia had never had a reason to be jealous because she’d never been taken with a man before, nor had she ever had to compete with another female for her place at a man’s side. This was all new territory, so rather than behaving in a manner that would embarrass herself and everyone else at the table, she turned away from Ruth and concentrated on the meal and the conversation.

  Kent was indeed aware of Ruth’s interest. Every time he glanced up, their gazes met and hers would go racing away. He planned to get his father alone as soon as possible to find out what he’d told the young woman. He was also keenly aware of the muted fire in Portia’s eyes. He’d caught her shooting daggers at Ruth when she thought no one was looking. Had she noticed the young woman watching him and become jealous as a result? He’d chalked it up to his imagination, but as his father told Rhine about Virginia City’s annual baseball game between the Black and White members of the area’s Republican party, he saw a very distinct chill in her gaze. Portia jealous? Interesting.

  His father’s question brought him back to the present, “So, where are you living, son?”

  “Here, temporarily.” And he explained the circumstances that led to him living with the Fontaines.

  Oliver turned to Ruth. “Now, had he gone ahead and finished his medical studies, he’d be in an established practice by now and not having to depend on the kindness of his friends.”

  You could hear a pin drop. Kent picked up his wineglass and gave his father a salute. “I see nothing has changed with you.”

  Sylvia said coolly, “Oliver, you promised me you wouldn’t badger him. He’s chosen his life, and you’ve chosen yours. Let him live his the way he wants, for God’s sake. He’s not a child.”

  Kent saluted Sylvie, drained his glass, and got up and walked out.

  Ruth made a move to go after him, but Portia, already on her feet, shot her a raised eyebrow. The young woman cleared her throat, settled back into her seat, and focused her gaze on her lap. Only then did Portia say “Excuse me” to the others and leave the table, much to Sylvia and Oliver’s surprise.

  Outside, she found him seated at one of the tables. His features were tense and there was anger and muted pain in his eyes. “Thought you could use some company.” She didn’t like seeing him unhappy.

  “Promised myself I’d not let him get to me, but I did.”

  She sat. “He was rude, but now that’s he gotten that off his chest maybe the rest of the visit will be tolerable.”

  “And Blue will learn to spell my name.”

  She smiled.

  He turned her way. “Apparently Ruth will make me a perfect wife.”

  “What?”

  He told her about the letter.

  “Is that why she’s been watching you all evening?”

  “Noticed that, did you?”

  “She made it impossible not to.”

  “Was that why you were looking at her the way you were?”

  Portia played dumb. “What do you mean?”

  “Like you wanted to throttle her.”

  “No.”

  “Fibbing again?”

  She raised her chin and remained silent. Once again he’d been able to read her correctly.

  “Just so you know, if a man spent all his time focused on you that way, I’d want to throttle him, too.”

  Portia never dreamed she’d be moved by a man’s protective declaration. “Good to know.”

  The silence that followed left them studying each other and feeling the attraction that neither could deny.

  “Been a few days since we’ve had a chance to talk. How are you?” he whispered. The slow finger he ran down her cheek burned so sweetly her eyes slid closed. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Wanting more than just that faint caress, she told him about the letters, the meeting, and what she and Regan had done earlier that day at the Lanes but left out the conversation she and Regan had shared on the ride home.

  “I want to kiss you, but if I do, I won’t be able to stop, so tell me about the rodeo. Is it a big deal?”

  And she wanted to be kissed, endlessly. “The biggest.”

  “Prize money?”

  “Quite a bit.”

  “Might like to help myself to some of it.”

  Her attention was focused on his lips and the smile that curved them as he watched her. Who knew wanting a man could make a woman hunger? “You’ve participated in rodeos before?”

  “A few. Bull and bronc riding are my favorites.”

  She was impressed and looked up to see him viewing her so seriously she went still.

  “I’ve asked Rhine to let me lease the Blanchard place with hopes of buying it outright at some point in the future.”

  She was both surprised and pleased. “This is about putting down those roots you spoke of.”

  “It is. If he says yes, I’ll be starting a horse wrangling business so I can pay my bills and put food on the table.”

  Once again, she wondered what a life with him would be like.

  “Do you think a wife would mind if I’m gone say, two months out of the year in order to provide for her?”

  Drowning in his eyes and the tone of his voice, Portia felt her heart pounding so loud, she was sure people could hear it inside. “Not if that wife shared her husband’s dreams and could spend his time away chasing her own.”

  Portia felt like she’d stepped out on a precipice and knew without a doubt that if he asked her to be that wife, she would say yes. As a husband, he’d walk beside her through life, not make her trail behind just because society deemed he should, and he’d be one of those rare men like her uncle Rhine who took pride in their wife’s ambitions.

  “How’s your dream going?”

  She forced herself back to the present. “Still waiting to hear back from the letters I told you I sent out.”

  “Keep riding the bronc.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  They were still studying each other silently when Regan came out. “Eddy sent me to tell you you’re about to miss dessert.”

  They reluctantly severed the contact and Kent said, “Can’t have that. We’re coming.”

  Regan went back inside.

  He stood and held out his hand. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” She placed her hand in his and let him draw her to her feet as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  He kissed her fingers, causing a quiet warmth to ripple over her. “Thanks for helping me calm down.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Inside, Portia still on his mind, Kent piled his plate high with Eddy’s signature peach cobbler, then mounded ice cream on top. He pointedly ignored his father who seemed to get the message and kept his distance. But when
Kent finished his dessert, Oliver walked to his side. “Can I speak with you privately for a few moments?”

  “Why, so you can upbraid me again?”

  He dropped his eyes as if embarrassed. “No. Rhine said we could use his office. Do you know where that is?”

  Kent didn’t bother hiding his irritation. “Follow me.”

  Upon entering the quiet space, Oliver sat but Kent remained standing.

  “First of all, let me apologize for what I said. It served no purpose other than to anger you and make me look like an old fool.”

  Kent agreed and wanted to ask if he was seeking forgiveness because Sylvia had demanded he do so, but he didn’t ask.

  His father sighed. “I’m dying, Kenton.”

  Kent froze.

  “The doctors have given me six months to a year tops to get my affairs in order.”

  Kent ran frantic eyes over him and for the first time really focused on him. And what he saw scared him: the sparse gray hair, the tired eyes, slumped shoulders, and sallow skin. He was also incredibly thin. Kent had chalked up his appearance to his being old. Oliver was in his late seventies, but now he realized that there was more at play. “Does Sylvia know?”

  “Yes. She and I have spent the past six months going from doctor to doctor hoping to get a different diagnosis, but they all told us the same thing.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  “Constantly.”

  Kent didn’t know what to say. Yes, he and his father butted heads like bighorn sheep but this was too awful to think about. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Other than taking me as I am and not fighting me over the money I plan to leave you, no.”

  Kent replied in a voice softened by emotion. “Oliver, I don’t need your money.”

  “I know how proud you are, Kenton, but you will need it for the family you and Portia may make together.”

  Kent couldn’t help the wry smile that curved his lips. “You picked up on that, did you?”

  “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.”

  And Portia knew exactly who she wanted Ruth to meet. They found a place to park the buggy and joined the crowd for the walk to the event. Entering the main area was like stepping into an outdoor fair. There were large rings set up for the various horse races, a corral for the bull and bronco riders, and everywhere you looked were legions of people of all races and ages. Making their way through the crowd, they heard conversations in both English and Spanish along with laughter and music. In the air were the mouthwatering smells of roasting pigs and beef. Women were frying tortillas and grilling chilies next to fragrant pots of beans.

  “This is amazing,” Ruth said happily. “I’ve read about rodeos a few times in the Chicago papers but seeing it with my own eyes takes my breath away.”

  Portia was glad she was enjoying herself. “It’s come down to us from Mexico, and celebrations like this one are held all over this part of the country.”

  “What do we do first?”

  Truthfully, Portia was hoping to spot Kent but knew finding him in the large crowd was going to be difficult. But the fates were with her. “I see Kent and Matt. Let’s find out if they’ve signed up for any of the contests.”
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br />   “Lead the way.”

  It took a few minutes to make their way through the crowd to his side but when he saw her, his smile brought out her own.

  “Good morning. Was hoping to find you,” he said.

  “Same here. Morning, Matt.”

  “Morning, Miss Portia. Morning, Miss Adams.”

  Portia asked, “Have you two signed up for any of the competitions?”

  Kent replied, “I’m on my way to the registration table now. Matt’s decided he’s not entering.”

  “I’ve been at these things enough times to know that I’d only be laughed at. Think I’ll spend my time eating and looking at pretty girls.”

  Portia saw him staring longingly at Bonnie Neal, a pretty young brunette holding a frilly green parasol to protect her from the sun. She was speaking with an older woman and when the woman moved on, she turned and looked over at Matt.

  Kent seemed to have noticed his young ranch hand’s interest, too, because he asked, “Do you know her?”

  Matt nodded. “Her daddy is one of the big ranchers. Her name’s Bonnie Neal, but she doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

  Portia asked, “Then who’s she smiling at?”

  Matt went still.

  Even with the thick crowd passing in front of her like a river current, it was easy to see that Matt had her attention. “You should go over and say hello,” Kent said.

  Looking terrified, Matt shook his head.

  “Go say hello, Matt.”

  “You think so?”

  Kent pushed him gently. “Go. We’ll see you later.”

  Portia watched him approach Bonnie and his shyness reminded her of James Cordell.

  Kent said, “I probably shouldn’t yell at him to stop staring down at his boots and look her in the face, should I?”

  Portia and Ruth grinned, and Portia said, “No. You’ll only embarrass him.”

  “Then I need to stop watching.” Fitting actions to his words, he turned his back and Portia doubted she’d ever get over how silly he could be at times. “Did Oliver and Sylvia come with you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “He isn’t feeling well. The train ride took a lot more out him than he thought. Sarah and the staff will take good care of him though.”