The Diary of Jerrod Bently, J.W. Osborn [the false prince series TXT] 📗

Jake Titus narrowed his gaze at his sixteen year old blonde daughter. “Suzy, I told you that I don’t want you seeing Hap. He is not the boy for you.”
“But Daddy,”: the pretty blonde whined, “I love him, and he loves me.”
“He is a no account square head, Susanna Faye and no daughter of mine is going anywhere with Hap Johansen the third!”
“You are being stubborn!,” the girl cried “Just like that stupid mule of yours.”
“Molly is not stupid.,” Jake defended as he rose from his chair and crossed to his book shelf. “Now go back to the farm and help your mother. She said she was going to can those green beans today.”
As I watched, the girl turn on her heel and storm out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Obviously she was pretty angry about something, but whatever it was, was none of my business. All I wanted to do was meet J. W. Titus and express my gratitude for him being such a fine story teller. In a few hours, I would be back on my horse, riding drag with Ely or Gus Anderson. I knocked on the door and the lawyer looked up from the book that was open on the desk in front of him and motioned for me to come inside.
“Howdy.,” he said as he rose to his feet and offered me his hand. “Jake Titus,” he said “What can I do for you.”
We shook hands. The man’s grip was like a vice. “Jerrod Bently,” I said, “We met over at the jail earlier.”
“Indeed we did,” Titus said “ have a chair.” He motioned to one at the corner of his desk.
“Thanks”, I said as I removed my hat and seated myself.“I have been wanting to meet you sir,” I said “I think I have read every story that you have ever written.”
Jake Titus looked back at me, his blue eyes thoughtful for a moment, then his face broke into a wide grin. “I think you have the wrong Titus, son,” he said “I’m Jake.. I only handle legal matters and contracts for J. W. Titus.”
A little embarrassed, I started to get up form the chair. “I am sorry,” I apologized, “I saw the name on the door and thought that...”
“That’s fine, Mr. Bently,” Titus said “It is an honest mistake made by a lot of folks who come to Portersville from back East. Please sit down and let me explain.”
Confused I reseated myself and the lawyer closed the book on his desk and handed me a tin type of an attractive woman dressed like a cow boy and mounted on a powerful looking horse. She looked like she knew how to ride too. “That is my wife,” Titus said “J. W. stands for Jean Wellington and of course she is married to me , hence Titus. She is the writer you are looking for.”
“Mrs. Titus is J. W Titus?”, I said “But I thought....” Jake cut me off.
“You figured any one who told stories like she does had to be cowboy or rancher and all else that is part of living out here in the Territory.,” he said.
“Well, yes,” I replied “But it makes no difference. I enjoy her stories and read them all the time. It was J. W. Titus who inspired me to come West from New York and start a new life.”
“Jean has lived here all her life, Mr. Bently,” Jake said “she has a real talent for taking words and making stories out of them. It took me a coon’s age to get her to try publishing one, but now that is just a common occurrence in our life. We are married now for twenty years and have a daughter. Susanna Faye is her name, and she is a story teller like her Ma, but I think she’ll make a right fine lawyer one day.”
“I am sure she will, Mr. Titus,” I replied “Well, thank you for your time, sir. And please pass on my regards to Mrs. Titus. I will be waiting to read her next book when it comes out.”
“Should be around Thanksgiving, Mr. Bently,” Jake replied “That was what the publisher said in the last letter I received.”
“Thanks,” I will look forward to that.” As I was preparing to leave, Titus pulled a sliver watch out of his pocket and flipped it open. “It’s nearly 12:00,” he said “I always go home for lunch. How would you like to join me, meet my wife and visit with her for a little while.”
I was stunned that this man would make such a offer to me, a stranger, but no less a devoted fan of his wife’s craft. “I’d like that, Mr. Titus,” I said “Sure it wouldn’t be a lot of trouble?”
“Heck no,” Jake replied as he reached for his black hat that hung near the door, “J. W. talks about New York City all the time and wants to go there one day. I think, she’d love to hear what it is like from a cowboy who used to live there.” At that he put his hat on and walked to the door. “Come on, Mr. Bently, my mule is over at the livery getting groomed.” As we stepped out the door, and glanced up the street, I saw a very elegant looking horse and rider coming at a brisk trot. It was a beautiful white stallion and the woman on his back was riding side saddle, a crop in her hand as she held her reins in a way I had never seen before. As she approached I could see she was dressed in black velvet from head to toe. She saw us and drew her prancing horse to a halt. I will never forget her face, as she was probably one of the most exotic looking women I have ever seen with her black hair and mysterious dark eyes. “Good Morning, Mr. Titus,” she said “I trust you are well.”
Jake tipped his hat “Indeed I am, Contessa,” he replied “And you.”
“I am tolerable, sir,” she replied in a accent I thought might be Italian. “Have you seen Kane Wolf today?”
“Has Rani thrown a shoe?”, Jake asked
“No,” the Contessa replied “He needs a trim.”
“That is a mighty fine horse,” Jake said “If you ever want to sell, I want to buy .”
The smile that lit her elegant face was like the morning sun, she was truly breath taking. “My Rani is not for sale, Mr. Titus,” she said “But soon my mare will foal, and then we shall talk business then.”
“Indeed we shall, Madame,” Jake replied . Then suddenly he remembered I was standing next to him, still spellbound by the mere presence of this great lady. “This is Jerrod Bently,” he said , introducing me, and Mr. Bently, this fine lady is La Contessa Francesca Della Bellezza. She comes to us from Italy.”
She extended her gloved hand to me. As though in a dream I reached out to take it and raised it to my lips. “I am charmed, Madame,” I said gallantly and hoped I did not sound like a complete clod, falling over myself.
“I am pleased to meet you Mr. Bently,” she replied as she gathered her reins. “Are you and you wife attending the church social on Sunday?”she directed to Jake Titus.
“We expect to, Contessa,” Jake replied “Hope to see you there.”
“May be you shall,” she said with a pert smile, “Have a pleasant day, gentlemen”. And at that she rode away.”
Staring after her, I was amazed. Had I just met a queen or a duchess?
“She’s mighty impressive,” I heard Jake say. “She keeps things interesting around here.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
“Italian nobility,” Jake replied, “Her husband is Count Donato Peitro Bellezza and he has his hands on the steam boat trade. A very wealthy man to say the least.”
It was quite a day. I had met a real Italian Countess and now I was going to meet J. W. Titus in person. I had just walked in to the right place at the right time. Well, to make a long story short, I did ride out to Jake Titus’s place, a good size cattle ranch called The Double J, and met J. W. Titus. She was quite a lady. But it was late in the day. Sam had gone back to camp and I figured I better head back there myself . Jake Titus had gone back to town to finish his lawyering, Doc had Ned locked up and I figured I’d done all I needed to do and rode back to camp.

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When Sam got back to the cattle camp late that afternoon, she hitched the mules to the chuck wagon and sent for Floyd Jax. She wanted him to drive it back to town and help Scrub Pot load it. While she waited , Sam took to brushing Trouble. That was when she heard some one coming up behind her.