She drew the buggy to a halt and pulled Janna onto her lap as she listened curiously. The intent crowd was questioning him about his plan to start new silver mines in the district. The few hecklers apparently were cattlemen, but the town marshal, Luther Netherson, stood to one side, keeping the peace, his pair of six-guns prominently visible.

Mr. Lovell seemed a persuasive speaker, with a powerful, booming voice any Shakespearean actor would envy. He ran to portliness perhaps, but he was tall enough to carry the bulk, and the superbly tailored suit he wore helped to disguise his paunch. He might be considered handsome, Heather reflected, but he reminded her of Evan Randolf, not merely because of his dark-chestnut hair and sideburns and curling mustache, but his suave manner.

The discussion ended with Lovell appealing for votes, and the crowd dispersed. Before Heather could drive on, though, she found her buggy approached by Lovell himself, accompanied by Marshal Netherson.

When the marshal introduced them, Mr. Lovell tipped his hat to her. “Ah, the lovely Mrs. McCord. I understand you are the wife of my political opponent.”

Heather nodded politely. “How do you do, sir.”

“I am delighted to meet you at last,” he returned, displaying a graceful social address. “We share a common acquaintance, I believe. Evan Randolf thinks very highly of you. He asked me to look you up.”

“You know Mr. Randolf?”

“We are both on the board of the Union Pacific Railroad. I travel to St. Louis frequently on business. I understand you recently quitted that fine city. You must find it vastly different from the state of Colorado.”

“Different, yes, but pleasantly so.”

His eyes swept her body, taking in her jacquard bodice and skirt, as well as the half-Cheyenne child she held on her lap. “This is the little Indian child I’ve so much heard about?”

Protectively, Heather wrapped her arm more tightly around Janna. “This is my stepdaughter, Janna McCord.”

“Her features are more pronounced than I expected.”

His tone conveyed the slightest hint of triumph, and he had no need to explain his rationale aloud to Heather: Janna’s lineage would likely prove a disadvantage to Sloan’s campaign. The good citizens of Colorado would not be able to forget who her mother was.

“Yes, isn’t it fortunate?” Heather replied evenly. “With her fine bone structure, she will doubtless grow up to be a real beauty. And she has the sweetest disposition… Anyone who meets her, loves her at once.”

“Perhaps.” His smile was patronizing, but he seemed to tire of sparring with her. “A pity you are supporting the wrong candidate, Mrs. McCord.”

Heather smiled coolly in return. “I don’t believe my husband is the wrong candidate, sir.”

“Well, we shall see…”