The Coming Storm (37 page)

Dianne smiled. The man seemed very sincere in his greeting. “Our pleasure. But Cole is right. We haven’t a great deal of time. It’s quite a journey home, and we need you all to gather your things.”

“I’d rather we wait until tomorrow,” Portia said in a pout. She turned to Ned and spoke again. “Could we not stay just one more day? I’m very tired of traveling.”

“No, we can’t wait another day,” Trenton said, his voice edged with anger. “My sister and her husband have come all this way to help us out. We’ll go when they tell us to go.”

Ned seemed in agreement but offered Portia comfort. “I’m sorry, my dear. I know you’re tired, but I’m sure Trenton is right. The Selbys have been gracious to come all this way to offer us transportation. We shouldn’t delay them.”

Portia looked at Dianne and let her gaze travel the length of her body. Dianne knew her riding outfit was old and well-worn. She hadn’t come here, however, hoping for fashion approval or critique. Hoping to head off any comment, Dianne smiled. “You’ll want to dress more appropriately, Mrs. McGuire. There’s nothing between here and home but miles of wild country. You won’t be all that comfortable in silk.”

Portia touched the collar of her gown and then looked to Ned. “I don’t have the constitution to ride twenty-five miles on horseback.”

Dianne heard her husband give a brief snort before saying, “That won’t be a problem, ma’am. We’ve got a wagon. You can ride in it. We’ll spend the night at the halfway point.”

Later, as they made their way up the freight road for home, Dianne rode in close step beside her brother. “She’s a very determined woman,” Dianne murmured. “I’ll give you that.”

“She’s obnoxious,” Trenton replied. “The woman has been nothing but grief since she passed by our table and pretended to faint.”

“She did what?” Dianne asked, all the time watching Portia McGuire as she struggled to maintain her seat in the bouncing wagon.

“We’re having breakfast at a hotel back in Denver. She comes by the table and grabs at her throat and then faints. I had to catch her for fear of her landing in my lap.”

“Oh my,” Dianne said, stifling a giggle. “I’ll bet that was quite the scene.”

“She gave us some sad song about her mother dying and being a widow. I suppose it was all true, but still, she’s working Ned like a faro dealer. She knows the cards he’s holding, and she wants them all.”

“Is that why she’s traveling with you—to get to him?”

Trenton shook his head. “We’ve actually accompanied her. She has business in Bozeman—at Fort Ellis, actually. Her mother passed on, as I mentioned, and she’s here to bring word to her father, who happens to be a soldier at the fort.”

Dianne’s mind traveled back in time. “How sad. It’s hard to lose a mother.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, Dianne. I know it couldn’t have been easy losing the girls and then Ma. Seems I’ve always let you down.”

“Nonsense,” Dianne said, pushing aside her sorrow. “A man has to do what he feels is necessary. I do have a question for you, however.”

He eyed her with a raised brow. “What is it?”

“Did you ever feel that you managed to avenge Pa’s death?” Trenton shook his head. “No. I managed to make a mess of that as well. I might as well tell you, I’ve done things you wouldn’t approve of. I’ve not lived a good life at times.”

“The past doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here. How long will you stay?”

Trenton looked ahead to where the wagon jostled down the road about a quarter mile ahead of them. “I’d like to stay on—at least for a time. I don’t rightly know what I’m good at and what I’m not. I know that may sound foolish, given that I’m twentysix years old.”

“We all have to find our way, Trenton. You may find you take to ranching. You’re more than welcome to live here as long as you like. In fact, if you take to it well enough and want to start your own place, you can either homestead land nearby or we’ll deed you part of ours.”

“That’s mighty generous. How does your husband feel about this?”

“Cole completely agrees. I wouldn’t have offered if not. You see,” Dianne slowed her horse, “the ranch really should belong to Koko and her children. But because she’s of Indian blood, the laws in the territory are rather strange. Uncle Bram was told different things by different lawyers and finally decided he’d add my name to the deed, and the property would come to me to keep Koko from being put off the land on some technicality.However, I had to pledge to always give his family a home—which of course was not an issue.”

“I see,” Trenton replied, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve. This pushed his hat back, giving Dianne a better view of his face. She was surprised to see a thin scar on his right jawline.

“What happened to give you that scar?” she asked.

“Knife in the hands of the wrong person.”

She looked at her brother. “I feel that you’re keeping things from me.”

“Like I said, I haven’t lived the kind of life a person feels free to talk about. Let’s just let it go at that.” They rode in silence for several minutes before Trenton added, “I do have some ranch experience. I worked on a place in Texas for a time. Seems I have the balance and endurance for breaking horses.” He grinned. “Would that be useful to you?”

Dianne laughed. “I think we could probably stand having another wrangler around. Especially one with that kind of talent.”

Trenton laughed. “It’s been a while—might take some getting used to.”

Dianne nodded. “You can take all the time you like.”

Up ahead, the wagon had come to a stop, and it appeared that Mrs. McGuire was in need of a moment’s privacy. Trenton frowned and Dianne could tell he held much disdain for the woman.

“I’m sorry about having her here.”

Dianne turned to her brother. “She’s a part of what brought you home, so I won’t complain.”

“She’s got a mean streak. You need to be warned.”

Dianne laughed out loud. “I’ve been through blizzards and bear attacks, deaths and births. I’ve dealt with Indians and ranch hands, prejudices of every kind, and loneliness that ate my soul raw. I think I can handle Mrs. McGuire.”

“I hope you’re right,” he replied, pulling back on the reins to stop his horse.

Dianne did likewise and turned to her brother. “Everything will work out, you’ll see. God has a plan even in bringing Mrs. McGuire to the Diamond V.”

CHAPTER 28

P
ORTIA HAD TO ADMIT THE
D
IAMOND
V
WAS AN IMPRESSIVE
ranch. The house itself boasted some very modern designs and was a far cry from the log cabin structure she’d expected to find. After enjoying a tour of the house and immediate grounds, she had settled into a nice guest room near the top of the stairs. The room, she’d learned, had once been inhabited by Dianne Selby.

“I enjoyed this room very much when I used it for my own,” Dianne had told her that first night. “Since then, however, my husband has worked to finish a few of the other rooms, and we now have our bedroom down the hall.”

Portia was impressed with the delicate rose wallpaper in the room. It complemented the intricate design of the bed quilt and the draperies. The bed itself was of a fine quality wood, boasting the softest down-filled mattress she had ever known. Her first night had been quite pleasant—probably the first truly good sleep she’d had since taking off on this northern excursion. The nights that followed, however, had Portia awake half the night, plotting and planning how she might get close to Dianne Selby. After all, the woman and her husband owned this massive estate, complete with livestock and workers. There had to be a great deal of money involved.

But these people were a strange bunch. Dianne Selby seemed just as difficult to handle as her brother. What was it about this family that caused such distrust and apprehension?

“It’s certainly a challenge,” Portia told herself as she finished putting the final touches on her hair. One thing she had definitely decided: she would have to hire a girl to travel with her and see to her clothes and hair. The idea of constantly seeking help from hotel maids or housekeepers in order to adjust her corset or button up her gowns was a great irritation to Portia. Even here at the Diamond V, it seemed that most of the work was done by the family and a few others. Besides, house staff could often be paid to share information about their employers.

“I should encourage Mrs. Selby to get some regular staff in the house. It must be a drudgery having to keep things clean.”

Of course, there was the Indian woman. Dianne had introduced her as her aunt. Portia shuddered at the thought of mixing blood in the family. The Chadwicks’ uncle must have been a heathen, she decided, for what other reason could possess a man to marry such a woman?

There was also a black woman—Faith. Yes, that was her name. Portia had made the mistake of presuming she was a house servant, but then the woman actually sat down to luncheon with them. It so stunned Portia that she nearly commented, but Mrs. Selby saved her the trouble.

“Faith is a good friend of mine. We met on the wagon train west. She and her husband run a blacksmith shop here on the ranch.”

Portia pretended the information didn’t bother her, but it did. She looked down and smoothed the dark green gown. Ned had been surprised when she’d rid herself of the black, but it was a pleasant surprise by his own account. Portia particularly liked this gown because the neckline scooped rather low, complimenting her more feminine qualities.

“Well, I might as well go among them,” she told herself and headed for the door. “After all, if I’m to accomplish anything, I must learn what I can.” She smiled at the delicious bits of news she had already managed to gather on Trenton Chadwick. The telegraphed replies she’d picked up in Virginia City had given her new thoughts regarding how to deal with him.
That man should no longer prove to be a problem. I seriously doubt he’d want his sister to know what an unsavory past he’s known
.

“Portia!” Ned declared as she descended the stairs, “I feared you might be ill.”

Portia smiled sweetly. “No, I’m feeling much better. The rest here has done wonders for me. I’m sure I’ll be up to traveling by the end of the week.” She took hold of his arm and allowed him to escort her to breakfast.

Dianne looked up from where she poured coffee into her husband’s cup. “Good morning, Mrs. McGuire. How did you sleep?”

“Quite well, thank you.” She allowed Ned to help her sit. The breakfast looked amazingly good. There were platters of fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, and stacks of bacon strips on her end of the table. At the other end there appeared to be biscuits, gravy, and a bowl of cinnamon apples. Portia found the mixed aroma quite appealing.

Dianne finished pouring coffee, offering Portia her choice between the dark heady brew and a lighter tea. “I’d love some tea. I’m particularly fond of the spicy Oriental blends.”

“This is a wonderful mix that my aunt created. I think you’ll enjoy it.” Dianne went to the sideboard and changed out the pots. Pouring the tea, she smiled, but Portia thought her stance rather rigid.

Portia noted this morning that Faith and her husband were absent. Mrs. Vandyke and her children were seated on the opposite side of the table, while Mr. and Mrs. Hammond were seated to Portia’s left. Together with Ned and Trenton, there were ten people gathered round the table.

“Ben, would you offer the blessing?” Cole asked as he had every morning meal they’d shared. The entire ritual caused Portia a great deal of discomfort. Angus had been a very religious man, and it had nearly driven her mad.

“Amen,” she heard the folks repeat in unison.

She opened her eyes and smiled. “It’s so good to be among Christian folk again,” she said, taking the platter of eggs offered her by Charity Hammond.

“Poor child, were you long traveling to get here?”

She nodded and accepted the platter. “It was truly a misery. Had Ned, I mean Mr. Langford, and Mr. Chadwick not helped me in my ordeal, I might never have made it this far.” Mr. and Mrs. Hammond hadn’t been present when Portia arrived, so the older woman hadn’t heard Portia’s tales of woe.

The food was passed around in an orderly fashion, and when everyone had taken what they wanted, the meal began. Portia nibbled on a biscuit, trying hard to give the appearance of disinterest when in fact she was starved. She’d played ill the last few days, hoping to gain a little more time before heading to Fort Ellis. She wanted very much to know if there was anything at the Diamond V that could benefit her more than Ned could.

“Your ranch is lovely, Mrs. Selby. I’ve been quite amazed at the flowers and garden, as well as the beautiful horses.”

Dianne looked up from near the end of the table. “Thank you,” she replied. “Not one of us could do it without the other. Running a ranch takes a team of people all willing to pull their weight.”

Portia wondered if the woman were being snide in her remark, but there was no edge to her voice that might suggest it.

“Since you’re feeling better,” Mrs. Selby began again, “I thought maybe you’d like a real tour of the ranch—on horseback.”