Breathless

by Beverly Jenkins

  He nodded.

  She thought she saw a shadow cross his face and it made her wonder if the father and son were still at odds.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Ruth?” he asked.

  “I am but I want to apologize for last night.”

  “Not necessary.”

  Portia put in, “I told her not to worry about it.”

  “Portia’s right. Oliver misled you.”

  “Apparently he did, so thank you for not holding it against me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Portia was pleased with his refusal to lay the blame at Ruth’s door. The young woman looked uncomfortable enough.

  Kent eyed them and asked, “So, are either of you going to sign up for any of the contests? Steer tying? Bull riding maybe?”

  Portia laughed, “No. Although growing up, Regan and I used to enter the youth events.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Target shooting and the horse racing relays. Three years running, we won both. The boys hated us.”

  “Good for you!” Ruth crowed.

  Portia explained to Kent why they were there. “I’m waiting to introduce Ruth to James Cordell.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you playing matchmaker, Miss Carmichael?”

  “You did with Matt. I’m trying to keep up.”

  Portia saw the humor in his eyes and when the contact lengthened, the desire. For her.

  Ruth cleared her throat. “The woman trying to be matched up is waiting. Shall we go? I’d like to keep up as well.”

  Her comical plea dragged them back to the present. Wading into the moving sea of people, they set out.

  James was among the three men seated at the registration table writing down the names of the contestants and placing their entrance fees in the strongboxes at their feet.

  “Which one is he?” Ruth asked from where she and Portia were standing.

  Kent had left them to study the roster of events posted on a sign nearby.

  Portia pointed him out. “James is a bookkeeper,” she added in case Ruth was curious about what he did for a living.

  Ruth’s face gave nothing away, but she didn’t turn on her heel and walk off either, which gave Portia hope.

  A few minutes later after discreetly observing James and his interactions with the men in line, Ruth said, “I’ll look forward to the introduction.”

  And the introduction did go well. Portia told James that Ruth was a family friend visiting from Chicago. “I know you’re probably very busy here, James, but I was hoping you could show her around when you have the chance. I can’t because I’m supposed to be helping your mother and the other ladies, but I don’t want Ruth to miss all the fun.”

  Seemingly mesmerized by the tall willowy Ruth, James nodded horselike. “I—I’d . . . Sure. I’ll be ending my shift in just a few minutes.”

  “Thank you, James. Will you see that she gets something to eat as well, and maybe escort her to some of the competitions? She’s never been to a rodeo before.”

  “I’d be honored.”

  True to his word, he quickly finished the registration of the next man in line, said something in parting to the ticket taker in the next chair and came around the table to where Ruth and Portia stood waiting. Ever the gentleman, he extended his arm to Ruth. “Shall we?”

  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, Miss Carmichael.”

  “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.

  Howard said to the men who’d come with him, “Get him out of here.”

  They dragged him to his feet and he croaked, “You’ll pay for this, bitch!”

  Howard hit him with a right cross that knocked him out cold. More cheers went up. Lane snapped, “When he wakes up, remind him that we don’t take kindly to varmints threatening our women.”

  His toes trailed on the ground as they hauled him off.

  Howard asked, “Are you okay, Portia?”

  She nodded. She was admittedly shaken when he initially grabbed her, but having defended herself and having enjoyed watching Howard put the final nail in Salt’s coffin, she felt much better.

  “Then go get you some
ice cream. As I remember that always used to cheer you up.”

  Giving him a kiss on his cheek, she set off to do just that.

  Later, Portia had plenty to cheer about. Kent made it through the qualifying rounds of the bull riding and would ride for the prize money on the rodeo’s final day. He won second place in the steer-roping contest, and he and Blue came in third in the can race. The event called for riders to pick up tin cans from the ground while their horses ran at full speed. Each ride was timed. Riders were sometimes injured when they lost their balance and tumbled out of their saddles from leaning over too far. From the way he and Blue worked together, it was obvious they’d been in similar contests before. Even though they didn’t place first, both Kent and his mount finished the competition unscathed, and that was a first-place win as far as she was concerned.

  After the competitions, she and Kent got food and carried their plates to join her family, along with Matt, Ruth, and James Cordell, on blankets spread out on the grass to enjoy their meals. They caught up on each other’s days and listened to the lively music rolling across the crowded meadow on the wings of the evening breeze.

  Kent was worried about his father. Although Oliver hadn’t indicated that his death was imminent, that he hadn’t been up to enjoying the day’s festivities had been on his mind all day. He planned to check on him as soon as they returned to the hotel. In spite of Oliver being in his thoughts he’d managed to enjoyed the Lane rodeo. He hadn’t won any first-place money but by taking second and third place he’d beat out a lot of the others and none of them had sported Portia’s bandana. Seeing it still in place made the day even more special.

  They were listening to Regan’s hilarious telling of a goat tangling with a pony during one of the children’s races when a man Kent didn’t know walked up. He did recognize the little lady with him, Matt’s Bonnie Neal. Matt kept his head down as if he was afraid the man had come to shoot him for talking to his daughter.

  “How are you, Rhine?” he asked.

  “I’m well, David. How was the trip back East?”

  “Fine. I just got home a few days ago. Sorry to have missed Blanchard’s funeral. The old man was one of a kind.”

  Rhine nodded.

  “I just found out that Farley and Buck were killed. Sorry, ladies, don’t mean to disturb you with talk of their deaths.”

  No one seemed offended so he continued, “Sheriff O’Hara said you wanted to put together a posse?”

  “I did, but he said my race would be a problem.”

  “Told me about that.” He shook his head as if he found that asinine. “Farley and Buck were good men. They helped me out last summer when I broke my leg. I never would’ve got my cows to market had it not been for them. I know a lot of folks are scared because of Geronimo and all, but I had O’Hara deputize me anyway. If you’d like the help out, I’d be honored to have you and anyone else you know by my side. Parnell’s probably in Mexico by now but I still want to take a look around.”

  “When do you want to start?”

  “Let’s wait until the rodeo’s over tomorrow. As I said, Parnell’s probably gone so another day probably won’t matter. We’ll meet up at Blanchard’s place at sunrise. That fine with you?”

  Rhine indicated that it was.

  “See you then.” He touched his hat to the ladies. As he walked way, his daughter shot Matt a smile that turned him beet red before she hurried after her father.

  Rhine looked over at Kent. “I guess we have a posse.”

  “Looks like we do.”

  “Neal’s a good man.”

  Judging by what he’d just witnessed, Kent had to agree.

  After dinner, there were poker games, music, and dancing. By the time dusk rolled in, many people were gathering their families and preparing to head home. Eddy and Rhine were among them.

  “We’ll see you young people in the morning,” Eddy said. Hand in hand she and Rhine went to retrieve their buggy.

  Regan planned to spend the night with the Lanes to help with the next day’s preparations. After saying her good-byes, she strolled off. James offered to see Ruth home, which made her smile. Matt had drifted off after dinner and was on the grounds somewhere enjoying himself, so that left Kent and Portia on their own.

  “Did you drive or ride?” he asked.

  “Drove the buggy.”

  “Are you ready to head back?”

  “I am.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  With Blue tied by his reins to the back of the buggy, Kent drove. At his side, Portia savored the evening and his presence.

  “You could sit a mite closer, Miss Carmichael.”

  She scooted over until she was cushioned against his side.

  “Better.”

  Filled with peaceful contentment, she said, “I hope your father is feeling better.”

  “Me too. I’m not sure he’s said anything to Rhine and Eddy, but he’s dying.”

  She drew back. She now knew the reason for the shadow that crossed his face earlier. In spite of the good time he’d had today, she’d sensed something not quite right beneath the surface. “I was wondering if something was bothering you.”

  “Doctors have given him a year—maybe less.”

  “Kent, I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  They rode through the deepening darkness with the moon overhead. “I wanted him to stand up with me at our wedding.”

  She stilled and studied his face. “We’re having a wedding?”

  “I hope we are. What do you think?”

  She snuggled closer. “I think I’d like that.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” And instead of second-guessing the decision or tensing up and waging an inner debate, her peace and contentment deepened. The choice felt right.

  “Hallelujah!” he shouted.

  She laughed.

  “Do you want something big and fancy?” he asked.

  “No, but Eddy might, and if she does, I’ll probably agree because she means the world to me after all she and Rhine have done for me and my sister. I will insist it be as soon as possible though.”

  “Good.”

  She was glad he didn’t want to wait either. Now that she’d aligned her mind with her heart’s lead, she was impatient to begin their life together and explore all marriage to such a special man had to offer, not the least being endless kisses. She was convinced their marriage bed would be special as well, in spite of the small worries she harbored about the pain her sister had described.

  He stopped the buggy.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just need to take care of something I’ve been wanting to do all day.”

  And when he leaned over, she knew what would follow because she’d had the same thoughts all day, too. He traced a slow finger over her bottom lip before pressing his lips to hers fully. A warmth spread along with a rising desire for more. Unlike previous times, he didn’t wait to move his hands over her body, sliding his hands over her breasts to awaken and tease. Still plying her mouth, their tongues dancing sinuously, he cupped her breast before dropping his head to awaken her completely. She moaned. Buttons were undone, and because she’d begun the day thinking she’d be riding Arizona to the rodeo, she was encased in the black silk that he found so arousing. He ran kisses over the tops of her breasts and without his asking, she brazenly moved the fabric aside so he could play as he wished. She was rewarded so magnificently her hips rose in rhythm. She ran her hand over the strong muscles of his neck, glorying in the texture of his skin and hair, all the while easing him closer because she wanted him to have all she could give. She arched, sighed, and moaned in response to his loving and felt the storm only he could set in her blood begin to gather. He returned to her mouth, leaving her breasts damp to the night air while his hands slowly moved down her bared sides to her hips and along the length of her thighs. She’d worn a skirt and his caress singed through the fabric to the
flesh beneath. “Open for me, Duchess.”

  She parted her legs and her skirt rose. His palm was hot as it journeyed. The sensations sent her hands beneath his shirt to explore the hard yet soft flesh of his chest and back. She wanted to touch him everywhere, wanted to learn his shape, map his ribs, and lick at the hollow of his throat. Putting her desire into action, she dragged her tongue over the spot and heard him groan. He paid her back by moving his hands between her waiting thighs, and when he touched her, she sucked in a breath and lifted her hips on a groan for more.

  “You’re very wet, Duchess. Makes me want to do this . . .”

  She gasped.

  “And this . . .”

  She whimpered passionately.

  “And now, this . . .”

  He slid a finger inside and worked her with such expert wickedness, she shattered on a strangled cry and spiraled to the moon. Pulsing and moaning, she heard him whisper against her ear, “I’ll be spending the rest of our lives making you fly apart, woman . . . so get ready.”

  And when he finally headed the buggy for home, the overwhelmed, soon to be Mrs. Kenton Randolph knew that, yes, their marriage bed was going to be fine indeed.

  Upon their return they made the announcement. The overcome Eddy cried. Kent’s father, who looked to have regained his strength, offered his congratulations as did Sylvia and Ruth.

  “Will you stand up with me?” Kent asked him.

  Oliver froze and stared. “Wouldn’t you rather have Rhine take that role?”

  Portia said, “He’ll be too busy giving away the bride. If that’s okay with him?”

  Standing with Eddy, Rhine responded in a voice thick with emotion, “I’d be honored, Portia.”

  Kent turned back to his father. “So, what do you say, Oliver?”

  Tears in his eyes, he nodded. “Yes.”

  Sylvia wiped at her own tears, and laughed, “Eddy, as much as you hate it, you’re going to need a new gown.”

  With love in her voice and her gaze on Portia, Eddy shook her head. “I won’t mind this time. Not at all.” She raised her coffee cup. “To the happy couple, and to love.”

  “Hear! Hear!”

  As Portia and Kent accepted hugs of congratulations, Portia was sad that Regan wasn’t there but knew she’d be happy, too, and say yes when Portia asked her to be her maid of honor.