The Wyoming Heir

“I cared about Grandpa,” she said, nodding toward the black band around her upper arm. “And I’m happy to sort through his things, but don’t you try using that as a way to get me out of school. There will be plenty of time for me to sort through things outside of school hours. Come Monday morning, I’ll be back at Hayes Academy. And I’m not going to Wyoming.”

Had Sam been this disagreeable three years ago? He tried to envision it but ended up with the mental picture of a sweet girl crying over her injured cat in the barn. “I happen to love you, and I happen to want my sister with me, under her family’s care.”

“If you loved me, you’d let me stay. I love it here! This place is my life.”

Love it. She once said that about the Teton Valley. “What about Ma and Pa? You haven’t seen them for nigh on three years.” And Ma might not be around in another year.

She ducked her chin and toyed with the fabric of her skirt. “Do they know you’re trying to take me away, trying to quash my dream?”

A fist tightened around his heart. His sister stood before him, her body tall and womanish, her eyes alive with hope and passion, her mind determined to win their argument. He’d had a dream once, too—one he shared with Blake about buying a cattle ranch. No one had told him that he couldn’t. If anything, Ma and Pa had encouraged him and Blake to make their own ways in life. And they had.

And while he’d been out West, grieving Blake and seeing to the cattle ranch that now belonged solely to him, Sam had grown up, become a woman.

But woman or not, she still had a dying ma in the Teton Valley, and he had a promise to keep. Except didn’t he also have a duty to reunite his sister and mother before it was too late? “I’m not trying to quash anything, Sam. Ma and Pa miss you. Is it so hard to believe they want to see you again?”

Her back went rigid as a fence post. “They sent me away.”

“Come on now. Once you get back home and see some of your old friends, things won’t seem so bad. Levi Sanders took over his pa’s ranch a year back, and he’s looking for a good wife who knows the ways of a ranch. Not a silly city woman who can’t tell the front end of a horse from the rear. Here.” He dug in his pocket and held out the creased envelope. “Levi sent you this letter.”

She clutched her hands together defiantly, but her actions didn’t hide the moisture shimmering in her eyes.

He blew out a breath. What was he to do with a girl who was hard as iron one minute and all weepy the next? “Take the letter, Sam, and stop being so all-fired stubborn.”

“What about Cynthia and Everett? Are you forcing them to go back, as well?” she whispered furiously.

He froze, a flood of bloody images he couldn’t erase scalding his mind. “I wouldn’t take them back West for all the land in the Teton Valley.”

“They’re—”

“Enough.” He slashed the air with his hand, cutting her off. “We’re discussing you, not the woman responsible for Blake’s death. Now take the letter.” He shoved the envelope across the desk as a knock sounded on the door.

The butler poked his head inside. “Mr. Hayes? Mr. Byron, the lawyer, is here for your meeting.”

“Thank you.” But his gaze didn’t leave Samantha.

She huffed, stood and snatched the letter. “Fine. I’ll read it. And I’ll reply. But I’m not going back to Wyoming. I’m graduating from Hayes Academy, and then I’m attending college. I’m going to become an architect one day. You just see if I don’t.” A tear slipped down her cheek before she flew out of the room.

Luke blew out another breath and rubbed the heel of his palm over his chest, but the action didn’t quell the pain in his heart. He should have never let Pa send her away, should have stood up to his sire the moment Pa had suggested Sam had to leave after Blake died. But he hadn’t, and now he was good and stuck.

He couldn’t drag his sister, crying and screaming, away from a place she loved. And she wasn’t about to come willingly...unless he told her about Ma. But then he’d be breaking his promise, and a man couldn’t just up and ignore a promise like that.

His fingers dug into the polished wood top of the desk. If he did nothing else on this confounded trip, he’d convince Sam to come home on her own.

If only he could figure out how.

* * *

Elizabeth’s head ached, her neck muscles had turned into a mass of knots and her stomach roiled as though it would heave out her lunch—despite the fact she hadn’t eaten any.

She could blame most of her discomfort on Luke Hayes.

She’d grown up with a politician father. She’d seen him, her younger brother, Jackson, and even her mother wheedle donations more times than she could count. Goodness, she had wheedled donations before. She knew the best way to go about it. Smile. Look pretty. And agree with everything the potential donor said.

Not three hours earlier, the man who could save Hayes Academy had stood in front of her. She hadn’t smiled. She’d probably looked a fright with chalk on her skirt and her hair askew. And she’d disagreed with everything he had said.

Goodbye, Hayes Academy.

She sighed. Was she was being too hard on herself? Luke Hayes had interrupted her quiz and then pulled her brightest pupil out of school. Certainly he didn’t expect her to smile and say, “Yes, that’s fine. Ruin your sister’s future. I don’t care in the least.”

She opened her bottom desk drawer and stuffed into her satchel the letters she needed to work on the ledgers. He had no right to rip Samantha out of class then spout off about his sister not being her concern. Of course she was concerned—she knew exactly what the girl was going through. The battle was all too familiar.

What do you mean, you’re going to college?

A pretty girl like you should find a husband.

Just because one man jilted you, doesn’t mean the next will.

A college degree? What’s wrong with the schooling you already have? Why do you need more?

The sharp comments twined through her memory. Why should her desire to teach mathematics matter, when she could get married and have children? People had been asking her that for six years, and now Mr. Hayes had said the same about Samantha.

Maybe if she had explained the possibilities that awaited Samantha after she had a high school diploma and college degree, he’d let his sister continue her education.

Maybe.

But how many people understood her own pursuit of mathematics? Mr. Hayes would likely squelch his sister’s dreams just as so many people had tried to kill hers.

Elizabeth straightened and slipped her satchel over her shoulder. She wasn’t doing herself any favors by stewing over Luke Hayes, and she needed to stop by the kitchen and inventory the recent food delivery before she even went home.

She closed and locked her classroom door, then walked down the hallway toward the large double doors at the opposite end of the building. The tinkle of girlish giggles from outside floated through the main entrance to the school, and the clear autumn sun filtered through the windows beside the doorway.

If only she didn’t have the cook to meet with and ledgers to refigure, she could enjoy that picnic with her students. But some things weren’t meant to be. She pushed through the doors leading into the dining hall, then weaved her way through the maze of tables and chairs toward the kitchen at the back.

Dottie McGivern, the school’s cook, stood at the counter just inside the kitchen.

“There you are. Been wondering whether you were going to show up.” Dottie’s plump hands dove into a bowl of dough and began to knead. “We need more flour, apples and sugar.”

Elizabeth sighed. Of course they did. It only made sense. She already had the ladies’ society, Samantha’s brother and the school’s financial woes to deal with. Why not add trouble with the food order, as well?

“I’m assuming you didn’t get the amounts you ordered?” Again?

Dottie pointed to the half-empty shelves lining the wall of the kitchen. “Now look here, Miss Wells. I’ve been cooking for a long time, and I know how much money it costs to feed a slew of girls. Or at least how much money it should cost. So when I say I need a hundred and fifty dollars each month to pay for food, I mean a hundred and fifty dollars, not the fifty dollars’ worth of foodstuffs that showed up this morning. That look like a hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of food to you?”

“No, it doesn’t.” This could not be happening again, not with the school in such dire financial straits. It seemed every time Dottie had a load of food delivered, something had gotten mixed up and only a portion of the needed food was delivered. “I don’t understand. Jackson says he authorizes the food money to be released every month. You should have plenty of supplies, not be running out.”

Dottie wagged a flour-covered finger at her chest. “Talk to your brother, then. Maybe you got your messages mixed up, but the delivery that arrived today wasn’t no hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of food.”

Yes, she would talk to Jackson. Indeed, she hoped something had become mixed up. Otherwise, the academy was being cheated somehow. And not just with groceries. This was the fourth time such a thing had happened since the school year started. Jackson said enough money for materials and bills had been released, yet the gas company claimed they never received payment, the store they ordered teachers’ supplies from was missing money as well, and Dottie said only a third of her food arrived.