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Chapter Twelve
Portia awakened at dawn. Later, she’d be ushering the Jakes party to the train depot but for the moment she had some thinking to do. Her previously planned-out life was transforming into one that was no longer staid and stern but filled with laughter, passion, and the excitement of new possibilities because of Kent. Did she want to cling to the old Portia who lived for work and little else or throw caution to the wind and open herself and head down a different path? Yesterday, he’d asked why she hadn’t moved forward on her idea of starting her own bookkeeping business and for the first time she admitted how afraid she was of failing. She’d never voiced that before, not even to herself but she felt safe sharing her dreams and fears with him. Did that mean she was falling in love? Having never been in love, she didn’t know. Eddy had mentioned grabbing a teaspoon of happiness and this new Portia wanted that and the only way to have it was to reach out and claim it. Her decision made, she left the bed to begin her day.
When Kent rode up with Matt to act as armed escort for the ride to Tucson, the sight of Portia standing outside with her charges filled his heart. She looked his way and smiled, but there was a glint of fire in her eyes he knew to be a sign of her temper. Wondering what was wrong, he dismounted and walked over just in time to hear Ada Jakes demand to know, “Did you put water inside so we won’t die of thirst in this heat?”
“Yes,” Portia responded with what sounded like forced politeness. The old bat shot her a dismissive glare and let herself be handed into the buggy by her son. Seeing Kent, Winston paused and raised his chin challengingly. Kent replied with a ghost of a cold smile. The man looked away and entered the buggy without a word or even acknowledging Portia’s presence. Kent assumed the attitude stemmed from what Portia had revealed about her past and he guessed the Jakeses had added her name to his on their list of those they felt themselves superior to.
“Morning. How are you?”
“I’ll be better once these greenhorns are on the train and I’m on my way back here.”
He was about to reply when he heard the widow Gordon declare in a voice loud enough to be heard in Tucson, “I can’t wait to leave this awful place.” Clad again in her fancy brown traveling costume, she stormed over to Regan’s buggy, adding, “And when I get home, I’ll be sure to tell everyone I know what a terrible time I had.”
“Please do,” Regan tossed back, which seemed to throw the widow off her stride.
He saw Portia drop her head to hide her smile. Kent wanted to cheer.
After handing in his simmering sister, Phillip Pratt turned to Eddy and Rhine standing together watching the departure. “I want to thank you for a memorable experience. I will be returning.”
Eddy said, “And you will be welcome.”
He was the only one Kent heard offer any kind of thanks. Yes, they’d witnessed a murder but the service and the accommodations the hotel offered had been outstanding. Therefore, they had no reason to act as if they’d been raised by skunks. Seeing the Jakeses sitting in the buggy glaring straight ahead and holding themselves stiff as store mannequins, he asked Portia, “Are you ready to go?”
“Extremely.”
“Then let’s get moving.”
As Rhine and Eddy stood watching, Portia gave them a wave and the small caravan set out for Tucson, escorted by the mounted and well-armed Kent and Matt. Cal and the trunks brought up the rear. Everyone in the area was on the alert for the escaped Geronimo and his band. According to the newspapers, Mexico had given the United States Army and its large contingent of Apache scouts permission to cross the border to hunt him down. There had been dozens of false sightings, horses stolen, cattle butchered for the meat, and yes, deaths.
Very aware of this Kent kept a sharp eye on the surroundings and was pleased when they arrived in Tucson without incident.
As he stood with Portia at the depot, waiting for the train to arrive, she was approached by Ada Jakes and informed in a cool voice, “Due to your unfortunate bloodline, MissCarmichael, I won’t be offering you an invitation to my soiree for Mrs.Harper. I do hope you understand.”
Portia didn’t bat an eye. “And I hope you understand that I’d rather not have an invitation from someone with your appalling lack of manners. Have a safe trip home, Mrs.Jakes.”
Wanting to cheer again, Kent watched Winston lead his sputtering mother away.
On the short walk back to where Regan and the others stood waiting with the buggies, he said to the obviously furious Portia, “You handled that very well.”
“I wanted to set her hair on fire.”
Laughing at her warrior spirit, he walked her back to where her sister stood waiting with Matt and Cal.
“You look fit to be tied,” Regan said. “Did the bullfrog offer a parting insult?”
“Yes.” And Portia repeated the exchange.
Regan rolled her eyes. “As if someone wanted an invitation. She’ll probably serve her esteemed guests flies.”
Portia laughed. “I love you so much.”
Kent thought that pretty much summed up how he felt about Portia. She moved him like no other woman had before and he was convinced his future would be bereft without her at his side.
“Before we head back, I’d like to check and see if there’s any mail for us,” Regan said.
“I have some errands to take care of as well,” Kent said. Matt and Cal said the same.
“How about we meet back here in an hour?” Portia asked.
