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“I had the misfortune of speaking with Darian Day. He’s enough to curdle anyone’s day.”
“Which is why Matt and I spent our money with Mr.Krause. Day will starve if he’s depending on my patronage to put food on his table.”
Cal agreed. “Not one of my favorite people either. He thinks the sun rises and sets because he tells it to.”
Regan joined them on the heels of that and handed Kent a letter. “This came for you on today’s train. I have a few for Eddy and Rhine, too.”
He looked at the envelope. “It’s from my father.” He stuck it in his pocket.
Portia thought she saw a shadow cross his features but it was gone so quickly she assumed she’d imagined it. He and his father had been at odds when they all lived in Virginia City and she didn’t know if they’d reconciled in the years since. As if sensing her regard, he raised his eyes to hers, but there was nothing in them that offered a hint at his thinking. “Are we ready to head back?” he asked.
Everyone agreed, so they started the journey home.
Upon returning, Cal drove the wagon to the stables, Regan and Portia did the same with the buggies while Kent and Matt unsaddled their stallions and turned them loose in the paddock. Leaving Cal with a wave, they were walking back to the hotel when Matt asked, “Do you think Mrs.Fontaine might have something I can do to help me earn my keep?”
Regan hooked her arm in his. “Let’s go find out.”
Their departure left Portia and Kent alone. “He’s a nice young man,” Portia noted.
“Yes, he is. Had a hard life growing up.”
“So, what are your plans for the day?” she asked.
“Probably ride out to the Blanchard place after the sun drops a bit and take a look around. Howard Lane said he’d keep an eye out for the cows Parnell ran off. I’m hoping he’s found them and brought them back. What about you?”
“Putting together the papers the banks will need to wire the Jakes party their refunds. After that I’m going to compose letters to send out to some of the area’s businesses and mine owners to let them know I’m opening my business.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I had two people turn me down while we were in town today. It was disappointing but I’m riding the bronc and holding on just as you suggested.”
“Good for you. I’m not sure how I can help but if I can let me know.”
His support was endearing. “I will.”
As they eyed each other, time seemed to lengthen, and her need rose to the surface, whispering his name. Since her morning talk with herself, she no longer wondered how or why she’d gone from being a no-nonsense woman devoted only to her work, to one who wished they were alone so they could pick up where they’d left off last evening. Staking her claim on that teaspoon of happiness, she wanted to feel his lips on her throat, savor his hands moving up and down her spine, and relish the searing sensations of his touch. She also wanted him to know that she and her sponges were ready for that first time. Who would’ve ever thought she’d look forward to being intimate with a man? The old Portia wanted to accuse her of being no better than her mother but she refused to take the bait. “I have a question for you.”
“And it is?”
“Do you wish to put the sponge in for me, or should I do it myself beforehand?”
He looked confused. “Sponge?”
Enjoying his reaction, she started walking away and said over her shoulder, “Think about it and let me know. I’ll see you later.”
She took two more steps and heard him call out, “Stop. Right there.”
Guessing he’d figured it out, she smiled and swung back around.
He beckoned with a finger. “Come here for a minute, please.”
She complied and upon reaching him, looked up. “Yes?”
Arms folded, he scanned her face. “Are we talking about what I think we’re talking about?”
“I’m pretty sure we are. Is that a problem?”
He chuckled softly, “Who are you and what have you done with the real Portia Carmichael?”
