Breathless(34)

“He’s a blue roan.”

“Where did you buy it?”

“I didn’t. I found him in a wild herd in Montana. Broke him to the saddle myself.”

He looked startled. “My. That’s impressive.”

“All part of a cowboy’s life.” Kent then turned his eyes to Portia. “Do you need me for anything else today? If not, Matt and I are going back to the ranch.”

“You aren’t joining us for dinner?”

“No. I know we had some things to discuss this evening, but I’ll let you get settled in with your guests. The other thing can wait.”

Only they knew what he was really referencing. That he was able to relay it so blandly was impressive. “No, I won’t need your help with anything else.” The scandalous parts of herself that had looked forward to being caught alone were disappointed.

“Then I’ll see you in the morning. Sorry again for the interruption.” He touched his hat, turned his stallion, and rode off.

“So that’s a real cowboy,” Jakes said, eyes focused on the departing rider.

“As real as they come. Aren’t there Colored ranch owners in California?”

“I’m sure there are but none are in my circle of friends or acquaintances.”

“I see.” From his tone, she couldn’t tell if he was like Darian Day and Edward Salt and thought himself superior to men who worked cattle and busted broncs. “Let’s go in and join the others.”

That evening as the guests gathered in the dining room for dinner, Rhine, with Eddy by his side, welcomed them to the hotel. “Although my wife, Eddy, and I own the Fontaine, our niece Portia is responsible for putting together the activities you’ll be enjoying so if you have any questions or concerns please let her know. Let’s move to the table.”

In keeping with the hotel’s stellar reputation for quality and elegance, the white-clothed table was splendidly set with Eddy’s imported Minton china, silverware polished to a high shine, and delicate crystal stemware.

As they took their seats, Ada seemed particularly taken by the blue, gilded Minton plates. “These are stunning.”

“Only the best for our guests,” Eddy replied.

Elvenna said, “I have a question.” Her low-cut gray gown showed off the rise of her breasts. “Where is Mr. Randolph? Isn’t he part of the activities?”

Portia took in the dress and saw Eddy eyeing it critically as well. “Mr. Randolph will join us tomorrow. Any other questions?”

There were none so the meal commenced. They made small talk at first and Portia learned that the two doctors shared a practice in San Francisco and were indeed on their way home from a medical convention in Atlanta.

“Rhine’s brother lives in San Francisco,” Eddy said. “We visit him quite often. In fact, Portia apprenticed at his bank for a time after she and Regan finished their schooling at Oberlin.”

“I attended Oberlin as well,” Mrs. Jakes said, sounding pleased. “What did you train for at the bank?”

“Bookkeeping.”

Elvenna tossed back skeptically, “I’ve never seen any Colored women at any of the banks. Which one was this?”

“The Bank of California.”

“Why that’s one of the state’s biggest and most influential,” Winston said, eyeing Portia with even greater interest.

“My brother’s on the board of directors,” Rhine explained.

“Is he married?”

“Elvenna!” her brother gasped.

Wineglass in hand, she waved him off, “I’m just making conversation, Phillip.”

Portia shared a look with Eddy.

Rhine replied to her question, “He is, and very happily, I might add.”

“Pity,” she said. “My Saul’s been dead three years. I’m very lonely without him. Have you ever been married, Portia?”

“No.”

“Then you’re probably lonely as well.”

Portia responded politely. “Honestly, I’m not. My life is very full.”

Elvenna chuckled knowing, “Unmarried women always say that, but everyone knows the truth. Deep down inside every woman wants to be married. Society holds her in higher esteem if she is. It pities her if she’s not.”

Ada snapped, “That is narrow-minded rubbish.”

“Maybe, but you have to admit it’s true.”

“Views change,” Portia told her coolly. “Thirty years ago, society doubted the race would ever rise like it has. Now we have colleges, doctors both male and female, and our men have been in Congress. In ’81, Colored washerwomen took on the city of Atlanta and forever changed how they are viewed. In the end what society thinks is never set in stone.”

Winston raised his glass. “Well said, Miss Carmichael.”

Portia met her aunt’s and uncle’s approving smiles and caught Regan’s wink. Having put the now sour-looking widow Gordon in her place, Portia returned to her meal.

“That was a perfect set down,” Ada said to Portia later as she walked the Jakeses to their rooms after dinner.

“It needed to be said.” She disliked being underestimated.

Winston walked beside his mother and although he hadn’t had much to say after toasting Portia with his glass, he’d spent the rest of the meal watching her with unmasked admiration. “Any man able to engage you in conversation on a daily basis would be lucky indeed, Portia.”