Breathless(5)

“Went to San Francisco first and signed on with a merchant shipping company and sailed the world. Afterwards, went to work at a ranch up near Sacramento. Learned everything I needed to know about horse wrangling. Saved my money. Would like to start my own operation someday.” And since then he’d drifted from California to Wyoming and places in between, hiring himself out as a ranch hand, riding herd on cattle drives, and taking any other work he could find.

“And now?”

“Hoping you can give me a job.”

“How long do you plan on being around?”

“As long as you’ll have me.” He met Rhine’s eyes and added truthfully. “Looking to settle down.”

“We already have a bartender but we can find something for you, I’m sure.”

“Whatever you have will be fine.”

Rhine raised his glass. “Then welcome back.”

“Thanks.”

Fifteen years ago, after the mob destroyed Rhine’s saloon and Eddy Fontaine’s newly built diner, a younger and cockier version of Kent enrolled in Howard Medical School. Being a doctor was the last thing he wanted—all he ever wanted to do was be a rancher—but he and his physician father had locked horns for years over his future, so to get Oliver off his back, Kent moved to Washington. He’d hated everything about it from the weather to the classes to the sneering condescending attitudes of the East Coast scions of the representative class. He’d enjoyed the young women though and spent an inordinate amount of time studying female anatomy, but in the end, not even that had been enough, so he’d left, much to his father’s fury.

In response to a soft knock on the closed door, Rhine called, “Come in.”

His wife, Eddy, entered. “Kenton! Portia said you were here.” She threw her arms wide and a smiling Kent hugged her tight.

“So good to see you!” she gushed. “My goodness! Where have you been all these years? Did you fall off the face of the earth?”

“In a way. Rhine can explain.”

She studied him, studied her husband’s poker face, and said, “Okay. Are you staying?”

“I am if Rhine can find me a job.”

Her joyful expression filled Kent’s heart. He’d missed having them in his world. Rhine had been the older brother he’d always wanted and Eddy, the sister.

“Good. You could use a bath.”

He chuckled. She’d always been frank.

Rhine asked her, “Should I put him in our wing?”

She nodded and said sincerely, “Yes, of course. It’s wonderful having you here, Kent. Rhine will get you settled in and I’ll see you at dinner—which is a party to celebrate our fifteenth anniversary.”

He paused. “I don’t own any fancy clothes.”

“None needed.”

He looked to Rhine for verification before asking, “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Okay. Thanks, Eddy.”

She left them and Kent said to Rhine, “Need to get my horse settled in first.”

“Okay, stables are out back. Come on, I’ll show you.”

So Kent followed Rhine outside. On the way back to where he’d left his mount tied, they chatted about old times and old friends. “Is Jim Dade here, too?” Kent asked.

Rhine shook his head. “No. Jim’s in upstate New York now. Opened a restaurant there. Eddy and I visited him last summer. He and his place are doing well.”

James Dade had been in charge of the kitchen at Rhine’s place in Virginia City and Rhine had looked upon him as an older brother, too. He’d hoped to find Jim still with Rhine and now the prospect of maybe never seeing him again was saddening.

When they reached his mount, Rhine assessed the big stallion. “You don’t see many blue roans much anymore.”

Kent untied the reins and gave the strong neck an affectionate pat. “No. Have had him for a while now. Descended from Indian stock. Found him in a herd up in Montana. Broke him myself. Seems content to let me ride him, but I get the feeling that one day I’m going to wake up and find he’s lit out for Montana again.” The horse eyed him with the superior stare Kent had grown accustomed to as if acknowledging the accuracy of his assessment.

“Does he have a name?”

Kent smiled, “Blue, of course.”

Rhine chuckled and they headed to the stable.

After getting Blue settled into the fenced-in paddock and stowing the saddle in the tack room, Rhine told Kent, “Our head groom is an old cowboy named Cal Grissom. He’s off visiting his sister but will be back in a few days. You’ll like him.”

Kent saw Blue eyeing a beautiful Appaloosa mare. “That’s a good-looking paint.”

“Her name’s Arizona. She belongs to Portia.”

Kent watched Blue walking around the mare.

Rhine said, “I think Blue might be interested.”

“I think you might be right.”

Leaving the horses to get further acquainted, the two old friends resumed their walk to a breezeway that led to an adobe building with a red tiled roof that was set off by itself at the back of the sprawling property.

“Did you recognize Portia all grown-up?” Rhine asked as they entered.

“Took me a second or two, but I did.” He didn’t remember seeing a ring on Portia’s finger. “Beaus coming out of her ears, I imagine.”