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The pleased Ruth accepted and shot Portia a smile before they melted into the crowd.
Kent walked over to her. “Do you think they’ll hit it off?”
Portia shrugged. “It’s worth a try.” She liked James. He didn’t have a chance with her but he might with Ruth. “Did you decide what you’re going to enter? I like the fancy lariat event.”
“I do, too, but I’m not good enough with a rope for that. Saw an old vaquero at a rodeo who could use his rope to spell out the letters of his name.”
“I don’t think anyone here is that good.”
“I know I’m not, so I’m going to stick to the steer tying and the bull riding. Blue and I do pretty good with the racing so I might try one of those, too.”
Portia removed the red bandana from around her neck and tied it around his upper arm. “For luck.”
“Why thank you. I’d kiss you if I didn’t think it would start tongues wagging.”
She saw smiles on the faces of some of the people standing nearby who’d watched her tie on the bandana. “I think the wagging has begun, but I’ll take my kisses privately for now if you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t, but do you think we’ll find time to be alone before the snow falls? I’m almost at the point of throwing you over my shoulder and riding for the border.”
She laughed. “I’m going to go find Regan. She’s heading up some of the children’s races. I’ll be cheering for you at your events.”
He nodded and she left him in line.
The rodeo events were usually set up the same way every year, so Portia knew where Regan would be. She was happy that James and Ruth seemed to hit it off. As she’d told Kent, she was looking forward to cheering for him and couldn’t wait to see how he’d do.
Regan was in charge of the children’s target shooting contest and as she stood at the fence watching, Edward Salt appeared suddenly at Portia’s side as if by magic.
“Good afternoon, MissCarmichael.”
“Mr.Salt.” Her disdain for him masked, she kept her eyes trained on the event and clapped along with the crowd when a little girl using a bow placed her arrow in the target’s bull’s-eye.
“I’ve been thinking about you.”
Not in the mood for whatever he had in mind, she asked, “What do you want?”
“You.”
She sighed. “I’m not available.”
“I hear you’re in line to inherit your uncle’s wealth. That makes you quite the heiress. Not many Colored women can claim that.”
She stared at him coldly.
“A man would have to be insane not to want all that you are.”
“Surely you don’t believe I’d have anything to do with you knowing what you’re really after.”
“Oh, I want what’s between your legs, too. Don’t get me wrong.”
Portia walked away, only to have him grab her by the arm. “Little bitch. Don’t you dare walk away when I’m talking to you.”
“Release me,” she snarled. She saw some of the men she’d known most of her life, including host Howard Lane, making their way to her side. Glad for their concern but certain she could handle Salt on her own, she gave the odious snake a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and said softly, “You know, I do like a forceful man.”
Under the praise his grip lessened. She cupped his face and while he grinned, she drove her knee so forcefully into his groin, he screamed. Eyes bulging, he grabbed his privates, fell to his knees, and writhed on the ground, mouth and eyes wide with shock and pain. Those who’d been watching cheered. She curtsied.
Mr.Lane arrived and glanced down at the curled-up moaning Salt. “Came to help, but doesn’t look like you need it.”
“Best I could do without a gun.” She thought back on the times her mother had emerged in the morning with her eyes blackened by a customer’s fist. Portia had vowed never to be similarly victimized. Had she been armed, Salt would be nursing more than bruised privates.
