The Coming Storm (28 page)

Portia lowered her gaze as if embarrassed. “Not at all, Mr. Langford. We are, after all, only human.”

“And fate has smiled so sweetly upon me this day,” Ned added, unable to take his gaze from her. “I feel this is a remarkable 8 meeting—almost as if something wonderful were about to happen. How about you, Trenton? Don’t you feel the same?”

“I feel like a cup of coffee, that’s what I feel,” Trenton replied, waving the waiter over with his cup.

Portia lowered her head and contemplated the situation. Apparently the two men were somehow intricately connected. They were apparently good friends, but good friends could be separated under the right circumstances. She lifted her face and met Mr. Chadwick’s eyes. He narrowed them as he scrutinized her. She smiled.

Mr. Chadwick was going to be a problem, but certainly he was no match for her.

Trenton didn’t know exactly what it was about the McGuire woman, but he didn’t trust her. Her manners were impeccable, and she genuinely seemed not to realize who Ned was or how much he was worth, but still she rubbed Trenton the wrong way.

For one thing, he thought as he applied a generous amount of jam to his toast, she hadn’t really been in a faint. He’d caught his mother once or twice when she’d passed out cold, and she had been as limp as a wet towel. Portia McGuire had been nearly rigid when Trenton had caught her in his arms. He was fairly confident the entire spell had been staged.

“Isn’t that right, Trenton?”

Trenton looked up from his plate. “What? I’m afraid I was lost in my thoughts.”

Ned chuckled. “I was just telling Mrs. McGuire that you have family in Montana and you plan to go north very soon.”

Trenton didn’t like the thought of where this might be leading, but he couldn’t deny the truth of it. “Yes. I have family in Montana.”

“I was just thinking, Trent ol’ boy, we could escort Mrs. McGuire and take her to Fort Ellis. As she’s just explained, the fort is not far from Bozeman, and I know you mentioned that town before. Perhaps we could make our way north and serve both purposes.”

“I didn’t know you had any plans to go north, Ned,” Trenton said almost sarcastically. There was no possibility that he would allow himself to become entangled with this woman.

Ned’s grin widened. “Well, now, I didn’t realize there would be any ladies fair who needed rescuing.”

Portia laughed ever so slightly. “I hardly need rescuing.”

“There, you see. She doesn’t need rescuing,” Trenton said, staring hard at Portia. He willed her to protest, but she only lowered her gaze and remained silent.

“But of course she needs us. You can hardly go into Indian country without an escort,” Ned declared. “Chadwick, you’ve read the papers. There’s been one account after another. Think of the long distance she’ll have to cover and the threat to her well-being.”

“If she fears Indian attacks, perhaps she should stay away from the places where the Indians live,” Trenton said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, I don’t fear the red man as much as trying to make my way around a military post. Soldiers can be so crude and disrespectful,” Portia expressed. “Indians only murder you.”

Trenton had to admit she played the part well. But he was still convinced it was only a part. On the other hand, how could she have possibly known that by appealing to Ned Langford, and inadvertently Trenton, she could get help in her travels north? She couldn’t have had any knowledge of his family connections in Montana.

“Come on, Trenton. I’ll handle the travel expenses and get you both to your destinations. I’d enjoy seeing the north country. Maybe even do a little hunting. I understand some of the most marvelous moose and elk to be had are in that territory.”

“Oh, as I said, I can pay,” Portia argued. “My husband was a man of some means in Scotland. I have plenty of income and would be happy to pay.”

Ned laughed. “I’m part owner of one of the most productive silver mines in all of the West. I hardly need a lovely lady—a lady who has lost her most beloved mother and husband—to pay for my well-being.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “Oh dear, the time is getting away from me. What say we meet here again at supper. Six-thirty?”

Trenton hoped the woman would decline and simply disappear from their lives. Instead she nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

He turned and looked at Trenton. “Six-thirty?”

Trenton wasn’t about to let Ned meet the woman alone. “I’ll be here,” he muttered and followed it with a long drink of coffee. He watched Portia McGuire over the rim of the cup as she pushed back from the table.

“I’m afraid I’m feeling poorly again. I should retire to my room. Please allow me to pay for breakfast.”

“Nonsense,” Ned declared. “The bill has already been taken care of—they know to charge my table to the room.”

“Well, thank you,” she said with what seemed great sincerity. Then she turned to Trenton. “And thank you for your gallant efforts to keep me from further harm when I fainted.”

Trenton got to his feet. “You’re welcome,” he managed to say without sounding too sarcastic.

“Perhaps you should accompany Mrs. McGuire to her room,” Ned suggested to Trenton. “After all, she isn’t feeling well.”

Portia put up her hand in protest. “Now I must decline. It would hardly look appropriate to have a gentleman escorting me to my hotel room. Remember, the Bible says we must all be above reproach and even the appearance of evil should be avoided.”

Trenton was taken somewhat aback by her declaration. Maybe he’d misjudged her after all.

Dianne would have preferred to deal with Cole’s absence by busying herself with all manner of work. But with one arm incapacitated, her ability to accomplish much of anything was questionable. So in the days of her recovery, Dianne found the opportunity to read quite a bit. The only trouble was, there weren’t that many books to read, and she’d never been much for reading.

She found the Bible a comfort most of the time, but then there were moments when her thoughts were plagued with the hopelessness of her situation, and even God’s Word offered no solace. She might have borne even this with some graciousness if not for the fact that everyone around her seemed completely content with his situation, while hers seemed impossible.

“Things can’t get any worse,” she muttered as she struggled to wipe down the counter.

Levi came to the back entrance of the kitchen and peeked his head in. “I have those supplies from town,” he said. “Where do you want them?”

Dianne thought for a moment. If her arm hadn’t been broken, she might actually have helped Levi with his duties. “I guess you can put the bulk of it in the storage room. I know Faith said we needed more sugar, so you might just bring a bag in here, and I’ll let her know where it is. Oh, and leave some coffee here as well.”

He nodded and turned to go. “I almost forgot.” He dug into his coat pocket. “You had a couple of letters. Well, actually one. One’s for Cole.”

Dianne’s heart began to pound. A letter? Could Cole have written? She went to Levi quickly and took the letters in hand. She looked at the first and noted it was from Morgan. The second one was from the Selbys, addressed to their son. “Thank you,” she managed to say before hurrying from the room.

Her heart was in her throat as she went into the front room and took a seat. Surely if Cole were able to write, he would have at least kept in touch with his parents. Even if he’d forsaken the idea of marrying Dianne, he would have written his family.

Putting Morgan’s letter aside, Dianne made the decision to open the letter from Cole’s parents. After all, they would need to know the truth—if the truth could be learned.

Dianne struggled one-handed to open the envelope. She pushed the single sheet of paper open and scanned the lines.

Dearest son,

You haven’t written since leaving, and we wanted very much to know of your safe arrival
.

The rest of the letter blurred before Dianne’s eyes. It almost seemed as if the letter, pleading for correspondence and assurance of safety, was a confirmation of Cole’s demise. He hadn’t written his parents since leaving Kansas. The letter mentioned his promise to post a note upon his arrival in Virginia City, but excused it, supposing that the post might have been destroyed by Indians.

Dianne hugged the letter to her breast.
He’s dead, isn’t he, Lord? My Cole is dead
.

CHAPTER 21

“L
OOK,
N
ED, YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HER.
S
HE COULD BE
lying, for all you know.” Trenton had tried for over a week to reason with his friend, but to no avail.

“You can’t possibly understand. I’m in love with her.”

Trenton nearly dropped the glass he held. “You’re what?” His tone was incredulous.

Ned shook his head and put aside the ledger he’d been working on. “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. Beautiful, kind, gracious, generous. That’s really all I need to know.”

“That’s not all you need to know. At least check into her story.” Trenton had thought for days that his friend should hire someone to collect information on the young widow. “Find out if her mother really died in the Clarkston Sanitarium like she said. Find out who her husband was and if he’s really dead. Better yet, find out if she was ever really married.”

“Gracious, Chadwick, but you’re a doubting soul. Where would you be if I’d taken that attitude with you? I’m hardly in the habit of investigating my choices of friends. What if I’d awakened after my attack and thought you to be one of my attackers instead of my salvation?”

Trenton instantly felt a wave of guilt. It was true. He didn’t deserve a place in the life of this gentleman, given his past. But maybe that was why he felt so intensely regarding Portia Mc-Guire.

“But love, Ned? How can you honestly believe yourself in love with the woman?” Trenton tossed back the remaining contents of his glass, then put it aside. He crossed the room to where Ned had begun to pace.

“Trenton, when I look at her, my heart begins to pound and my breath is suddenly stolen from me.”

Trenton laughed, trying hard to lessen the severity of his earlier tone. “Sounds like something to see the doctor about.”

“I’ve never met a woman like her, Trenton.” Ned’s words seemed accentuated with each step. He walked to the hotel window of their suite and gazed out into the night. “She makes me feel alive. I care about where she is and what she’s doing. I can’t help but wonder if at this very moment perhaps she’s gazing out her window as well. And maybe, just maybe, she’s thinking of me.” He turned and shrugged. “I can’t help it. I’m in love.”

“But she’s just recently widowed,” Trenton said, trying a different approach. “And as you’ve pointed out on other occasions, she’s a woman of some decorum and breeding—despite her father being in the army. But that aside, she isn’t going to consider giving her heart to anyone so soon after losing her husband.”

“Yes, but the loss of her mother has sent her seeking comfort,” Ned said, as though going through the logic of solving a very difficult mathematical equation. “She was used to the comfort her husband could offer. Therefore, it seems reasonable that she seek male companionship and solace now. I cannot deny her that, nor can I expect her to hold to some silly tradition of rules that says she must suffer and linger in her widowhood until enough time has passed. That would be cruel.”

Trenton shook his head and tried yet another tactic. “But what if she plans to stay in Bozeman with her father?”

“She won’t. She hates her father.”

“How do you know this?”

Ned shrugged. “She told me so. She told me he was seldom a part of their lives. She mentioned it just yesterday when we ran across each other in the hotel lobby.”

Trenton had no idea Ned had been left alone with Portia McGuire. He knew Ned was a man full grown, but he somehow felt responsible for keeping him from harm. “I just think it would be wise to know a little bit more about her before we go traipsing off to the wilds of Montana. But more than this, I think you should definitely give strong consideration to who she is and what she believes in before you let your heart carry you away.”

“You are certainly no romantic, Chadwick,” Ned declared with a frown. “Haven’t you ever been in love?”

“I haven’t had time for love.”

“Well, neither had I, until now. I can tell you this, ol’ boy, we’re missing out on a very fine arrangement.”

Trenton realized the conversation was going nowhere and quickly changed the topic. “So when have you and Mrs. Mc-Guire planned for us to leave?”

Ned smiled. “As soon as possible. We’ll take the stage to Cheyenne and then enjoy the train to Utah. After that, we’ll again take the stage and journey to Virginia City.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. I doubt you need me to come along.”

Ned laughed. “But of course I need you there. It wouldn’t look fitting for me to travel alone with Mrs. McGuire. And frankly, you know me to be a man of action, therefore I went to work immediately on planning the arrangements. I’ve already purchased your ticket for the stage to Cheyenne. No sense in heading out blind.”