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A tall Mexican man walked out from the back. “I’m supposed to be closing but the stove’s still hot, Sheriff.”
The sheriff nodded, introduced Kent and Rhine, and explained why they’d come. “Sorry to hear about your wife, Mr.Randolph, but she didn’t come in here. I would’ve remembered because that was right around the time I was arguing with Edward Salt and Charlie Landry.”
Kent froze. “Over what?”
“Them trying to weasel out of paying the bill. Salt’s done that to me twice now. Told him to never come back.”
Kent and Rhine shared a look, and O’Hara asked, “Do you think they may be the ones who have her?”
Kent nodded and explained why. The sheriff said, “Let’s go visit Landry first.”
The sheriff knocked. Kent and Rhine stood in the shadows flanking the door. Landry answered the bell. “Sheriff O’Hara. What can I do for you?”
“Want to talk to you about something, Charlie. Shouldn’t take but a few minutes. Can I come in?”
He hesitated for a moment, but pushed open the screen door to let him in. Only then did Kent and Rhine step into view. Charlie cried out, turned, and ran. Kent raised the lever action shotgun and blew out a wall. Charlie screamed. Kent fired again, took out the ceiling, and plaster and wood rained down. Charlie dropped to the floor, hands over his head, screaming, “Don’t kill me!”
Kent walked over determinedly, dragged Landry up by his hair, and stuck the Winchester between his eyes. “One chance. Where’s my wife?”
Charlie jumped like a landed fish. “She’s in the cellar. Outside! I—I... This was all Salt’s idea. Please!”
Kent slammed his face into the floor, breaking his nose. Without a word to Rhine or the staring O’Hara, he walked past them and outside.
In the cellar, both Portia and Salt looked up at what sounded like muffled thunder. Placing the lantern on the cellar floor, Salt hurried to the stairs and was halfway to the door when it opened and the working end of a long gun showed itself. “Back up,” she heard her husband growl.
Salt froze.
“You okay down there, Duchess?”
“I am,” she called happily, and tears of joy sprang to her eyes. The joy was quickly replaced by anger at Salt for putting her and her family through this ordeal, so she marched over to where he stood still frozen on the stairs, and without warning, grabbed the hems of his trousers and yanked. His feet flew off the stairs, his knees hit the wood followed by his chin, and he issued a high-pitched cry of surprise as he tumbled and bumped down the stairs. He was out cold when he landed in the dirt at her feet. Pleased, she stepped over him and began to climb. Now, she could go home.
A few days later, the sheriff stopped by to let them know that Landry and Salt were jailed, charged with abduction and extortion. According to them the abduction hadn’t been planned. Salt saw Portia coming and only intended to scare her with the gun. Landry was the one who bashed her over the head with his revolver and decided to hold her for ransom as a way to get back at the family for his wife’s sale of the land. Interestingly enough, there was a bevy of Wanted notices for the Salts from St.Louis to Boston for forgery, false impersonation, and other con artist activity. The parents weren’t in on the Salt and Landry scheme though. After being unable to fleece Rhine, they’d moved on, but the law was hot on their trail.
That evening, after the sheriff departed, Portia sat on her porch and watched the sun go down. Last year at this time she’d been a hard-working, no-nonsense woman with her mind made up on how she would live out the rest of her life. Now she was married to an incredible man, had her own home and her own successful business, and in the spring, she’d be having her own baby. Eddy said she was the walking embodiment of that old saw: We plan—God laughs. She would probably miss her mother for the rest of her life, but Corinne’s actions would undoubtedly make her a better mother, if only in the sense of knowing what not to do. She knew Kent would be a wonderful father, and if the baby was a boy they’d agreed to name him Kenton Oliver Randolph the Second. If it was a girl she’d be named Eddy Regan after the two most important women in her life. Portia missed Regan terribly. Her letters were few and far between, but she hoped her sister was happy. Watching Kent walking up the path to the house, she was so grateful for him and his love. Her naughty cowboy husband was one of a kind and she was glad he was hers.
