“How . . . did you know . . . I was coming?” she asked, feeling suddenly nervous.
“Just knew it,” he replied, stepping forward. “Figured I’d carry you over the threshold—not for luck—just because I can’t wait to get you in my arms again.”
“Don’t you even want to know about the baby?” she questioned as he lifted her up.
He nuzzled her neck, then kissed her nose. “Not now. You can tell me all about it tomorrow. Tonight belongs to us.”
Dianne sighed and wrapped her arms around Cole’s neck. It was the night she’d thought would never come—the night she would begin her new life as Mrs. Cole Selby.
CHAPTER 26
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THE TROUBLE WE’VE BEEN FORCED TO endure,” Portia said in a sweet but clearly irritated tone.
Trenton was tired of the woman’s complaining. Tired, too, of the things she did to lengthen the journey. When they’d reached Cheyenne, she’d forced a week’s delay in order to, as she said it, “regain her composure.” Trenton reminded her and Ned both that they were vulnerable to Indian attack out here on the plains, but neither one seemed overly worried. Cheyenne was, after all, a fair-sized settlement.
After a week of watching Portia simper over Ned, flattering him with every type of false adoration she could, Trenton was relieved when the woman finally announced she was ready to move on.
Of course, now it was May and the heat on the train was most unbearable. Not only this, but there had been stops in Laramie due to trouble on the tracks, then another delay in two other towns much smaller than Laramie or Cheyenne.
By the time they reached Corinne, Utah, Portia’s company was wearing on Trenton like a bad summer cold. The woman was clearly up to more than traveling to Bozeman. She had her sights on Ned as husband material, and it was apparent that Ned was going to be more than happy to accommodate the woman.
Corinne, affectionately called a hell-on-wheels town from its days during the scurry to build the transcontinental railroad, was not an appealing little place. Pulling into the town in the dead of night, Trenton noted the place fairly crawled with all manner of two-legged vermin.
Named after a Union Pacific land agent’s daughter, Corinne hadn’t grown much past the tent-and-tarpaper grading camp that it had been upon its birth. Still, it was the main point of entry into the Montana Territory—unless of course one had the money to take a steamer up the Missouri River.
Trenton couldn’t help but remember back to a time when that had been his plan. Now, here in the town ambitiously proposed as the “Chicago of the Rocky Mountains,” Trenton wished only to move on. Perhaps it was because of the seediness, but it could just as easily be comments whispered by Portia that this seemed to be exactly his kind of town. He was rapidly coming to the place where he’d just as soon forget both Portia and Ned and take his horse and go ahead on his own.
Money talked in small towns, and Ned quickly arranged for accommodations at one of the sleeping establishments. Ned worried incessantly about Portia, however.
“I don’t think it’s safe to leave her alone,” he said as Trenton returned from arranging for his horse with the railroad office.
“I think Mrs. McGuire is more than capable of seeing to herself,” Trenton said with a yawn. He plopped down on the bed he would share with Ned. Pulling off his boots, he yawned again. “I’m sure even Corinne’s prestigious population has to sleep sometime.”
“But she’s alone,” Ned argued.
“She’s right next door,” Trenton replied, throwing his boots to the end of the bed.
“I intend to propose,” Ned said matter-of-factly. “I want to marry her—hopefully before we return from Bozeman.”
Trenton shook his head and shrugged out of his coat. “Ned, I wish you’d listen to reason. You know nothing about this woman.”
“I know what I need to know—that she’s wonderful,” Ned replied quite seriously. He began undressing, but his mind was clearly on Portia. “I cannot imagine my life without her. I would die for that woman.”
“You very well may die if you marry that woman. She’s already lost two husbands.”
Ned looked horrified. “You can hardly blame her for that.”
“I wonder.”
Trenton finished undressing and slipped into bed. Ned soon followed suit, turning down the lamp before pulling up the covers. The two men didn’t say another word, but all night Trenton wrestled with dreams of Portia McGuire and Ned Langford.
Portia paced the small space of her room, which she found deplorable. Even the offer of additional money had not bettered their situation. The hotel clerk had merely shrugged and suggested she look elsewhere if she was dissatisfied.
“Dissatified! That’s putting it mildly.”
The entire trip had been an exercise in drudgery. If not for the incredibly wealthy Mr. Langford, Portia might very well have given up her promise and headed back East. Her father hardly deserved such personal notification.
Portia touched a cool cloth to her neck. The lawn nightgown was light enough, but the room was terribly stuffy, despite the open window.
“I must devise a plan to encourage the elusive Mr. Langford to propose,” she muttered. “I know the man is interested—I know he wants nothing more than to know me better. Perhaps he’s put off by the widow’s weeds.” She glanced to the black gown that hung on the back of her door.
“Maybe it’s time for a change.” After all, she’d been in black for the past four months. “Maybe I’ll go shopping tomorrow and see if I can find something more suitable. Perhaps that will entice Mr. Langford.”
Again she couldn’t help but think of her strongest opposition: Mr. Chadwick. He was definitely a thorn in her side. If she could only rid herself of that man, she was certain to be able to bring old Ned into line. Chadwick was a mystery, but one that she hoped to solve soon. In Cheyenne she’d sent several telegraphs for information. All replies would be waiting for her in Virginia City, but she would have to be sure to give them enough time to check into Chadwick and get back to her.
“I believe another delay is in order,” she said to herself.
Portia began to contemplate how she might slow their progress just enough to get the information she needed. Once she got the goods on Chadwick, she could easily manipulate him—controlling the situation in any way she chose.
“I could be ill,” she said. “After all, this place is enough to make a person sick.”
She despised the shoddy workmanship of her room, the lack of color or design. It was like a box and nothing more. A box with a window and a bed. If she were to remain in Corinne for long, she would have to have a better room. That would absolutely be necessary. On the morrow she would nose around and see if a boardinghouse with better facilities might be available. If so, she could easily delay their trip by a week, maybe two.
Three weeks! It had taken three weeks to get from Corinne to Virginia City. Trenton could hardly contain his anger at the thought of it. Mrs. McGuire had once again fallen ill and insisted they remain in Corinne until she regained her strength. She told Ned it was the heat and her own weak constitution. Tearfully she had encouraged him to abandon her, to which Trenton had quickly agreed, but Ned would hear nothing of it.
Then there had been difficulties securing a place on a stage bound for Virginia City. Trenton had threatened to leave on his horse, but Ned had begged him to reconsider. He’d even offered Trenton money to stay.
In the end, Trenton stayed, but not for money or because his heart went out to the sickly Mrs. McGuire. No, he stayed because, quite frankly, he was caught up in the game. He felt almost as if he were reading a novel, and the only way to learn the ending was to continue through the parts he hated the most.
Virginia City was welcome civilization after Corinne. There were plenty of buildings to suggest a significant population, but it became very evident that the town had suffered loss.
“The gold ain’t panning out like it used to,” the livery owner t
old him when Trenton went to check his horse. He’d asked the old man why the town seemed strangely quiet.
“We still get a good holler up on Saturday night,” the man said, “but we’ve lost many a good man. They all wander off to where the next strike promises fortune and fame.”
Trenton nodded. “I’m sure.” He glanced around the livery. “Do you have wagons or buggies for rent?”
“Nah, no real use for that,” the old man said, then spit a stream of tobacco out the side of his mouth. “Don’t rent horses neither.”
“Well, I have a bit of a problem,” Trenton said, scratching his stubbly chin. “How would a person go about getting transportation?”
“To where?”
Trenton chuckled. “I’m not exactly sure. I’m the nephew of Bram Vandyke. The name’s Trenton Chadwick. I heard Uncle Bram had a ranch up this way on the Madison River. I was hoping to go see him. I have my mount, of course, but I have two friends who are afoot.”
The old man eyed Trenton suspiciously. “You say you’re Bram Vandyke’s nephew?”
Trenton nodded. “I don’t really know anything about him, though. Uncle Bram came out this way many years ago. I don’t have much to go on, I know, but I was hoping maybe someone here in Virginia City would know him.”
“Most folks in Virginia City would know him. Well . . . they knew him. He’s passed on now.”
“What?” Trenton felt his heart sink. “But my family came out here to live with him. My sister and two brothers, Zane and Morgan.”
“I know your brothers well. Your sister too—quite a horsewoman. Seems to me your ma died sometime back.”
Trenton nodded, remembering Dianne’s long-ago letter explaining just that. “She died in ’64.”
The man appeared to relax, almost as if he’d been testing Trenton. “Your sister owns the Diamond V now—that was your uncle’s ranch. She’s quite a little pistol. Knows a good piece of horseflesh when she sees it and isn’t afraid to work right alongside the boys.”
Trenton laughed. “I can’t imagine. She was sixteen when I saw her last.” The memory pained him. They’d once been so very close. Then he’d driven a wedge between them by deserting the family. Thoughts of the past welled up inside. Maybe she’d blame him for everything. Maybe she wouldn’t want to see him.
“Your sister married a couple months back. A feller named Selby. He appears to be a good man—honest fella. Saw ’im in town a few weeks past. As I heard it told, Selby was taken by the Indians while trying to make his way west. Savages robbed him of everything, so he had to restock hisself.”
Dianne had married. The thought comforted Trenton, who had always worried about his little sister’s welfare. After learning about their mother’s death, Trenton had almost given up his way of life to go find his family. The cards were stacked against him, however. Nothing ever went well for him for too long.
“I can’t imagine her married. She was just a girl when I saw her last. But I guess that has been—” he mentally did the math— “seven years.” He shook his head. Dianne would be a woman full grown by now. He almost laughed out loud. In his thoughts of her she was still that sweet young girl who was always giving her opinion.
“How can I find her now?” he asked the man.
“The ranch is about twenty-five miles east and north. Maybe a little more. You can follow the main freight road, then there’s a turnoff that will take you down toward the Madison. Diamond V is a big spread. Can’t rightly say how big it is, although I heard tell they added on to their acreage just last year.”
“And there’s no wagons or horses to rent?” Trenton asked again, hoping the man would relent now that the man knew who he was.
“No, not a thing. Fact be told, your sister came in here a few weeks back and bought up most of the extra stock I had. At least the decent stock. I don’t like to keep many horses around—the cost ain’t worth it. Most folks know I’m not here for such things and don’t come looking to me for it. I mostly board other folks’ animals and keep the freight horses.”
Trenton nodded. “Would there be someone I could maybe hire to take a message to the ranch? Perhaps my sister could come with transportation.”
“Now, there’s a right good idea. I’m sure one of the boys around here would be mighty happy to do that. You’d have to pay ’em, of course, maybe even lend them your mount, but you could prob’ly have word back in a couple days.”
Trenton didn’t like the idea of lending his horse to anyone, but he was sure that if he lost the animal, Ned would buy him a new one.
“Well, point me in the direction of a reliable young man— not some no-account,” Trenton said.
The man grinned. “I know just the one.”
“I suppose if all we can do is wait,” Ned began rather slowly, “then that is what we must do.”
“It shouldn’t be more than a day or two. Nothing like the weeks we’ve already endured,” Trenton said with a sarcastic glance at Portia.
“A day or two is certainly fine,” Portia said, her tone lacking emotion.
Trenton never failed to be amazed at the young woman and her many faces. Sometimes she was the pouting, simpering belle of the ball, and other times, like now, she played the part of fragile, stoic widow.
“Of course you’re right, Portia,” Ned said, reaching over to pat her hand. “I suppose I’m just overly anxious to speak with your father.”
She smiled at this and then looked at Trenton with an expression that suggested triumph. So he’s proposed. Why else would he talk freely of wanting to speak to her father? The thought of Ned marrying the conniving widow sickened Trenton. He’s a grown man . . . let him make his own way. If she’s in it for his money, he’ll soon know that.
Trenton could tell by the way she studied him that Portia was hoping he’d reveal understanding of Ned’s statement, but instead he played dumb. Why give her any satisfaction?
Trenton toyed with his coffee cup, then motioned the woman who’d served them to come fill it up again. Ned, however, got to his feet. “I’m going to step outside and smoke a cigar. I shouldn’t be long.”
Trenton figured Portia would offer to join him, suggesting they take a long stroll or some other such nonsense. Apparently Ned thought she might too, because he waited for a moment looking directly at her.
Instead of paying him much attention, Portia pointed to her coffee cup. “I’d like another serving. Also, please bring me some cream.”
The woman poured the coffee while nodding. “I’ll be right back with it.”
“Well, then, I’m off,” Ned said, again sounding as though he expected Portia or Trenton to stop him—or join him.
The woman returned as Ned walked to the door. Trenton was irritated that Portia had chosen to remain behind. He supposed he’d be forced to answer some stupid question about his sister or the ranch. Questions he really had no answers for.
“I suppose you wonder why I stayed here,” Portia said, her voice smooth, charming.
“No, not really. I can’t say as I care,” Trenton replied before taking a drink.
“You probably should,” she said, leaning closer. “I intend to marry Ned.” Her tone changed, as did the countenance of her once emotionless face. Now pinched, almost severe in her anger, Portia’s expression reminded Trenton of his mother when she would lecture him about sneaking out in the middle of the night.
“I do not brook fools, Mr. Chadwick,” she said very slowly. “You are a fool if you think to try and stop this wedding.”
Trenton remained unmoved. He matched her stare with his own gaze of contempt. “You hardly worry me, Mrs. McGuire.”
“Then that is your mistake, Mr. Chadwick,” she spoke with emphasis on his name. “I am not a woman to be toyed with. I’m not some simpleton you may push around or force your will upon. You would do well to see me for what I am.”
“A snake in the grass?” Trenton asked with a mischievous grin. “I figured that out a long time ago.”
S
he sat up straighter, rigid and tight. Her face went nearly blank again as she recomposed herself. “Stay out of my way, Chadwick. I mean it. Stay out of my way, or I’ll make you sorry you didn’t.”
Trenton laughed. “And what do you propose to do if I don’t?”
Her smile was bone-chilling. “Whatever it takes, Trenton dear. Whatever it takes.”
CHAPTER 27
“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S REALLY HERE,” DIANNE SAID AS SHE rode beside Cole on the way to Virginia City. Trenton had been a ghostly memory relegated to the past these last few years. She would think of him from time to time, dust off the images of their childhood, and remember the closeness they’d shared. Then just as quickly as the thoughts had come, she would put them away.
“I wonder what his circumstance is,” Cole replied. “His message really didn’t give us much to go on.”
“Well, he’s with friends who are trying to get to Fort Ellis. We know that much.” She’d brought two extra horses and a wagon, not really knowing what all was needed. Trenton had only mentioned that he had his own mount, but that the woman and man traveling with him were without transportation. Dianne had no idea how much baggage they would be transporting or whether they could sit a horse, but either way they should have things under control. Cole had even seen fit to bring Gabe and Levi along to drive the wagon and handle the luggage and anything else they would need to bring to the ranch.
“Still, it seems kind of strange that he just suddenly shows up,” Cole said.
Dianne smiled as he reined back on Jack. Cole had taken to riding the black in hopes of bringing him in step. The horse did a little side stepping out of orneriness, then settled back into line.
“It is odd,” she said, “especially since he never bothered to write these last few years to tell me where he was or what he was doing. But I have to say I’m happy to be seeing him again.”
Cole met her gaze. He looked worried, Dianne thought. She wasn’t sure why he should be so uneasy, but then again, she had to admit to her own apprehension. What would it be like to see Trenton after all these years? And who were the man and woman traveling with him? Had he married? Was the woman his wife?
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