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When the train arrived, Oliver Randolph, leaning on a cane, stepped off the train with his wife, Sylvia, and her great-niece, Ruth. Eddy and Sylvia, upon seeing each other, let loose squeals of joy and immediately embraced like the long-time friends they were. Kent, followed by Rhine, embraced Oliver as well, and Kent had to admit it was great to see him.
“You look good, son,” Oliver said, assessing him.
“You do, too,” Kent replied. Truthfully his father looked frail and seemed to be moving much slower than the last time they’d seen each other a few years ago. The cane was new, too, but he chalked that up to Oliver getting up in years. “How was the trip?”
“Long,” Sylvia said, giving Kent a hug and a peck on his cheek. “You’re as handsome as ever.”
He smiled around his embarrassment.
She then said, “Everyone, this is my great-niece, Ruth Adams.”
The young woman accepted their greetings shyly. She appeared to be in her early twenties, had a pretty heart-shaped face and warm brown skin, and her frame was tall and thin. She shot hesitant glances Kent’s way, making him wonder just what his father had told her and what her expectations of him might be. He figured he’d find out soon enough. Once their trunks were gathered and placed in the boot of the Fontaines’ buggy, Oliver’s party piled in. Kent mounted Blue and they struck out for home.
Portia and Regan, along with a small army of female volunteers spent the day over at the Lane ranch helping Julia with the setup for the rodeo. There were tables to wash down, lanterns to hang from the trees, chickens to pluck, and decorations to put in the barn for the dance. By the time they rode for home that evening, they were exhausted and ready for dinner. Portia knew that Kent and her aunt and uncle had ridden to Tucson to meet the train, so when she and Regan returned, seeing Oliver, and his wife, Sylvia, wasn’t a surprise.
However, the visitors were surprised. Sylvia said, “Oh my goodness. Look at how you two have grown up!”
Portia and Regan had been in their teens the last time the Randolphs visited the Fontaines.
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.
