Breathless(64)

Kent stopped his horse. “Why?”

“Because we can.”

Kent met Rhine’s eyes and tried to make sense of the startling offer. “But what about your wanting to own that land?”

“I’d rather give it to you and Portia.”

“But—”

“Do you want the damn land or not, Kent?”

“I do.”

“Then say, ‘Thank you, Fontaine.’”

Kent dropped his head. When he raised it again, he complied. “Thank you, Fontaine.”

“Good, now let’s get moving before Neal thinks we’re not coming.”

When they reached the Blanchard place, the blackened stone foundations of the ranch house and the bunkhouse were all that remained. Waiting with David Neal were six riders. Kent knew Howard Lane, but not the others. Neal made the introductions. A few had been at the rodeo’s barn dance and congratulated Kent on his upcoming marriage, but because the posse was there for a grim purpose, not much time was spent on small talk. It was agreed that since they were sure Parnell wasn’t holed up in town, they’d spend the day searching some of the abandoned shacks close by. If that proved fruitless they’d discuss other options. It wasn’t much of a plan, Kent decided, but it beat doing nothing.

So they set out, and the search gave Kent a broader look at the place he’d chosen to be his home. Once again he marveled at the magnificence of the countryside with its mountains, washes, and waterfalls. The landscape varied, too. One moment they were riding through desert and saguaro and the next through stands of thick pines and carpets of wildflowers. At one point they were so high in the mountain range he had a remarkable view of Tucson and the valley spread out below. By the time they stopped to rest themselves and their mounts beside a fast-running stream, they’d searched many of the abandoned homesteads but were no closer to finding signs of Parnell and his cohorts then they were at dawn.

Rhine asked Neal, “Isn’t the old Silverfish Mine nearby?”

“Yes. About five or six miles east. Do you want to ride over and take a look around before we head back?”

The men agreed and so they remounted and rode east.

They found a body just inside the mine’s shaft. The corpse had been preyed upon by carnivores, most likely big cats or bears, but what remained bore the signs of badly burned flesh and remnants of a scorched black leather vest with silver buckles.

“That’s Parnell’s vest,” Matt said with authority. “Or what’s left of it.”

The stench of the corpse forced them back outside into the sunlight where they drew in breaths of fresh air.

Kent told the others, “When Matt and I first got to the fire that day there was a strong smell of kerosene in the air.”

Neal shook his head. “Dumb bastard must’ve accidentally splashed some on his clothing as he was pouring it around the buildings. When he lit the fire, he went up in flames, too.”

Kent thought that was probably a pretty good guess. There was no way of knowing if Parnell had been badly burned and still clinging to life or already dead when his companions left him at the mine, but it no longer mattered. Justice, in a warped and twisted way, had been served. Buck and Farley could rest in peace.

“I’ll let Sheriff O’Hara know what we found,” David Neal added. “He can decide if he wants to continue the search for the men who were with Parnell or not, but I don’t see how he can.”

Kent didn’t either. Buck had only identified Parnell.

Leaving what was left of the body to the mountain, the posse set out for home.



Portia spent the day discussing the initial details of her wedding with Regan, Eddy, Sylvie, and Ruth and wondering how Kent and her uncle were faring in the search for Parnell. She hoped they’d find some evidence the sheriff could use to bring justice to the two men whose lives had been taken so ruthlessly.

“I will be making the cake,” Eddy stated firmly. “None of this, ‘sit back and enjoy the day’ business.”

Portia chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” Although Portia had managed to wrest control from Eddy for the anniversary celebration, she knew she’d never win this battle so she didn’t even try.

Regan asked, “Do you want to get married at the church or here at home?”

“Here, please, I don’t want to spend the day traveling back and forth. The guests probably won’t either.”

From there they talked about her gown which Luz Salinas one of the best seamstresses in the territory would be making. They’d be calling upon friends to help supply all the food that would be needed to feed the multitude of people expected to attend.

Eddy said, “And Portia, since you’re the bride, your sister, the ladies, and I will take over the planning.”

Portia opened her mouth to protest only to have Eddy wag a finger. “Now, now. If I survived that anniversary party, you can survive this.”

“But this is my wedding. I should have some say.”

“You’ll have plenty of say, honey, but you won’t be doing any of the work, so just sit back and enjoy your day.”

Amused, Portia asked, “Why does that sound familiar?”

Eddy replied, “I think I may have heard that phrase before, too, somewhere.”

Portia sighed and smiled, “Okay. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, I suppose.”