fireplace in the entranceway. She glanced to Howard.
"What—"
"You'll see," he said, tugging her through the group.
Eva stood near the hearth, a large canvas covered shape
rested beside her.
"Oh," Randi said. "You've finished the picture." A wave of
apprehension showered her shoulders, and Howard wrapped
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an arm around her as if he'd seen her shudder. She twisted
and looked up at him.
"Surely you don't mean to hang it down here," she
whispered.
"Of course I do." He nodded to Eva.
Heat flushed Randi's face, but she squared her shoulders.
She thought the painting would hang upstairs where just
family would look at it. The thought of her likeness set out for
everyone to view made butterflies take flight in her stomach.
She'd never had a likeness taken, had really only seen a few,
and found the idea of a replica a bit disconcerting.
Her mind was still twirling with thought when oohs and
ahhs escaped from the crowd. She twisted and her gaze
landed on the picture Eva had uncovered.
Her heart stopped beating.
The painting wasn't of just her. It was the two of them.
She and Howard. They stood on the large front porch of the
hotel. She took a step forward, had to touch his likeness
because it was so vivid, looked so real, she wondered if he'd
moved—had somehow jumped right onto the canvas. He was
dressed in his black suit and looked extremely handsome, but
it was his eyes that held her attention. Somehow, painted
there on that canvas was the exact way he looked at her after
they'd made love in their big bed upstairs. A sweet flood
rushed over her system.
Her throat grew thick as her gaze went to her likeness. Her
image, dressed in the black gown had her head tilted
upwards, looking at her husband. It was indescribable, the
emotion filling her chest at that moment, because her painted
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gaze was exactly what she knew he saw when she looked at
him. It was there, as plain as the nose on her face, the deep,
undying love she felt for him.
He brushed a soft kiss against her ear lobe. "What do you
think?"
She opened her mouth, sucked in air. "It's—it's—" Turning
to Eva she struggled to catch her breath. "It's the most
beautiful thing I've ever seen. I—how—" She stopped trying
to talk. It was useless since there were no words to describe
how she felt.
"Thank you, Eva. Thank you."
After giving the girl a hug, she turned to her husband,
tears stung her eyes. He stepped forward, wrapped her with
both arms, and settled his lips on hers.
Sometime later, when the kiss ended and she floated back
to earth, Randi glanced around. "Where did everyone go?"
He shrugged, and then nodded toward the picture. "So,
you like it?"
She twisted, once again in awe by the likenesses.
"Yes, I like it."
"I wasn't sure what to have her paint. Other than us, I
mean." He stepped closer. "I told her I wanted the hotel and
the fish pond."
Randi looked at the picture again, and this time forced her
eyes to scan the rest of the painting. Sure enough, off to one
side of the hotel was the fish pond, complete with cascading
water. She squinted, moved closer to see what was in the
background behind the pond. The images were faint, but she
recognized the symbols.
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"Is that a cemetery?" she asked, completely confused.
He laughed. "Yes, that's Boot Hill."
"Boot Hill?" She glanced his way, took in his smiling face.
"Why did you want the cemetery in our picture?"
He took her by the elbows, drew her to stand before him.
"Well," he said, "Kid calls Jessie his shotgun bride, because
she shot some cattle rustlers with Ma's big gun not long after
they were married, and Skeeter calls Lila his badland bride
'cause she blew up half the Kansas badlands shortly after
they were married. And I," his cheeks took on a pink hue,
"call you my Boot Hill bride."
"Why?"
"Because the morning we got married, I remember
thinking if I didn't marry you, I'd most likely end up in Boot
Hill."
"Oh," she said, having no clue as to how that made her
feel—knowing he either had to marry her or die. A little gasp
escaped her lips.
"I can have Eva change it. I shouldn't have asked her to
paint it."
"No." She glanced back to the painting. "No. I like it just
as it is."
With one finger, he tugged her face about. "I wouldn't
change a thing."
She shook her head, but in agreement. "It's a beautiful
painting."
"I mean about you and our marriage. I wouldn't change a
thing." His hands slid to her waist, gently squeezed. "I'd
marry you a million times over."
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A nagging touch of doubt, mingled in her mind. "Even if,"
she glanced at the floor, "Boot Hill wasn't in the deal? I mean,
even if you didn't have to?"
He pulled her tighter. "Yes."
She glanced up, looking to see if he told the truth.
His sincere gaze met her questioning one. "I love thinking
of you as my Boot Hill bride. It's like I fought destiny and
won." He cupped her cheek. "Think about it. If we hadn't
been forced to wed, I may have let you go. And that"—he
kissed her forehead—"would have been a tragedy. I can't
bear the thought of living my life without you. I love you,
Randilynn Quinter. And I always will."
She had to blink in order to see past the blur of tears. "I
love you, too," she said, almost sobbing at the intensity
flooding her system. "And I'd marry you all over again."
Tilting her head upwards, an invitation to kiss, she added, "I
love being your Boot Hill bride."
He accepted her invitation. It was several minutes before
they separated and realized Kid, hammer in hand, waited to
hang their painting.
Well over three feet square and framed with the same dark
wood that decorated the rest of the hotel, the painting looked
absolutely fabulous hanging above the huge fireplace. Randi,
unable to control her gaze, caught herself stopping to stare at
it every time she walked through the hotel foyer. And today
was no different. The entire building buzzed with workers,
dressed in their blue and maroon uniforms sewn by Ma.
Servers, cooks, cleaning girls, and bell hops skittered and
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scattered, completing all the last minute tasks before the
evening's grand ball would begin.
The hotel hosted over thirty guests, besides the Quinter
families, and many more bustled in, expecting to book rooms.
They were sorely disappointed, for all fifteen rooms were
booked. Skeeter and Kid's families, as well as Willamina and
Eva, had been moved from their rooms into the extra
bedrooms above her and Howard's apartment to assure all of
the guest rooms were available. Most of them had filled up
yesterday. The two rooms left open were spoken for—one for
the governor of Kansas, the other the governor of Colorado,
both personally invited by Kid, and expected to arrive at any
moment.
A gentle hand patted her back. "You're going to get
trampled standing here staring at that painting," Jessie said.
Randi smiled. "I just can't help myself. Eva is so talented."
Jessie agreed with a nod. "I'm going to have to find a way
for Willamina to let Kid add on to the soddy. Eva will need the
space with the amount of requests she's getting."
"Aunt Corrine said Danny J is having her paint one for
him."
"Yes, him and half of Dodge." Jessie's face twisted with a
frown. "Perhaps I can tell Willamina the soddy has to be
upgraded or I'll lose it."
"What?" Randi asked, "You'll lose it?"
"I know it's a white lie, but she's so insistent Kid and I not
help her. She even pays rent on a regular basis. Kid of course
finds a way to give it back one way or another as a payment
of sorts, he says to flat out give it back would hurt
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Willamina's pride." Jessie clapped her hands together. "That's
it! We'll say it has to be fixed up, and tell her we're using her
rent money. That way she can't refuse us, especially if she
thinks the government says I have to fix it up, and Eva will
have room to paint."
The word government hit Randi like a ball of lead shot into
her stomach. She almost doubled over between that and the
heavy weight of dread that formed when her thoughts
instantly went to Thurston Fulton. He and Belinda hadn't
returned to Dodge, but Randi had a niggling suspicion they'd
appear for the open house.
Trying to hide her fears, she continued Jessie's
conversation, "Wouldn't the government tell Willamina she
had to fix it up?"
"No. It's my soddy. I claimed it before I married Kid, but
Willamina and Eva have lived there for the past five years."
"It's yours?"
Jessie nodded, but didn't have time to answer because Lila
walked up just then.
"What are you two doing? Besides gawking at that
gorgeous painting." She let out a long sigh. "There are days
when I swear I do nothing but stare at the one Eva painted
for us. She is so talented. Kodak would never believe it's a
painting and not a picture."
"Who?" Randi asked.
"Oh, no one," Lila answered, flipping her red curls over her
shoulder. "So are you two about ready to go upstairs and
start dressing? I still need to press my dress."
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"Oh, yes, let's go up," Jessie said, excitement dancing in
her blue eyes. "Randi will you show me how to put up my hair
like you do? It looks so elegant."
Randi raised a hand, patting her hair. No one had ever said
she looked elegant. Her hair was so thick, it was the only way
she could keep it all in a bun.
"Oh, yes, and maybe between the two of you, you can help
me figure out what to do with my unruly curls. I'll never get
the hang of pinning it up," Lila said.
Randi glanced between the two women, and all of sudden,
as if someone had just drilled a hole and hit an underground
spring, water gushed out of her eyes.
"Oh, goodness. What did I say? I'm sorry, Randi. You don't
have to help me. Skeeter likes when I leave my hair hanging
down," Lila apologized, draping one arm over her shoulder.
The woman's touch, as well as the concern filling her green
eyes, made the tears flow faster. Randi tried to quell them,
but it was as if they had a will of their own, and that will was
to fall down her face as fast as possible.
"Come on," Jessie said, looping their arms together.
With Lila on one side and Jessie on the other, they led her
up the wide staircase and down the long hall to the end door
that opened into her and Howard's rooms. Randi gave up
trying to wipe away the steady steam flowing over her
cheeks. Once settled on the divan she bowed her head and
sobbed into her palms.
The girls, again, one on each side, patted her back.
"Randi, what's the matter? You can tell us," Jessie said,
handing her a kerchief.
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"I don't know," Randi sobbed. She really had no idea what
had overcome her.
"It has to be something," Lila offered, "besides the thought
of my hair."
Randi had to smile, even though the tears still trickled.
She wiped at both cheeks with the handkerchief. "I—I guess
it's the thought that you two both brought so much to your
marriage. I didn't bring anything to Hog except trouble."
Jessie and Lila both started to laugh. Not giggle, but all out
laugh. Randi buried her face in her hands again.
Jessie, tugging Randi's hands aside, said, "Oh, goodness,
Randi. You can't honestly believe that."
Randi nodded. It was true, she offered Hog nothing. She
had nothing to offer any man. Belinda had told her so many
times, but most recently when the marriage to Edward Keyes
had been announced.
"I've been nothing but a problem since I arrived in Dodge.
Before then even. Since I was born," she sobbed.
Jessie took the kerchief and dried both of Randi's cheeks.
"You want to talk about bringing trouble to a marriage? Kid
had to marry me to keep my brother from hanging for horse
theft. Believe me, a wife, who couldn't even cook was the last
thing he wanted."
Randi felt her jaw drop. "He did? Horse theft?"
Jessie nodded. "And there was a gunslinger after me."
Randi gaped.
"How about me?" Lila asked. "Skeeter had to marry me
because I was pregnant when we met. And I had a mad man
stalking me, too. Talk about trouble."