Winning Heart. Laura Browning

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      She measured the rest of the feed from the list on the wall and concentrated on her work. Once the horses were fed and watered, she checked the schedule posted in the tack room to see which horses would stay in to be ridden later and which were to be turned out to pasture.

      Exercise riders showed up around seven, along with a couple of grooms who knocked dust and dirt off horses with their brushes. Wynter collected the blankets where they threw them on the floor. Dirty ones went into the washer. Those soiled with shavings, she took outside to brush.

      * * * *

      Nelson’s first surprise came when he made a few phone calls to people he knew at Duke. As a member of the board of trustees, he figured he would open some doors for Wynter.

      “She doesn’t need any doors opened, Nelson,” his friend told him over the phone. “The girl’s test scores are sitting right in front of me. She’s got an all-but-perfect SAT. Oh, excuse me, it appears she’s ten points off perfect in English.”

      Nelson chuckled. “Anything else I should know?”

      “The finances are shaky. It appears she won a full scholarship from something called the Southard Foundation, but it was yanked a couple of months ago. We’re working with her on some loans now.”

      Nelson’s eyes narrowed. So in addition to firing her, the bastard pulled the college money out from under her. Was there no end to how low the Southards would stoop?

      “Tell her she’s got a four year full ride,” Nelson declared. “I’ll pay.”

      “What do you want me to call this sudden scholarship?” Jason Hairston asked in some amusement.

      Nelson’s mouth twisted. “Call it the Allison Memorial Scholarship fund. Start it in the fall so she won’t be too suspicious. I’ll continue it for one incoming freshman student each year after this. Full ride, based on academic excellence and demonstrated financial need.”

      Nelson hung up the phone with a small feeling of satisfaction. Strike one, he thought. It might be a small hit, but it was still a hit.

      His major plan of action was progressing nicely. Already he’d put out information and set up what appeared to be solid investments. Then he had tipped Southard’s broker. Only Nelson knew the companies were ready to go belly up.

      * * * *

      Once the horses were turned out, she picked out stalls at a fast pace because she had an appointment at Duke to finish filling out paperwork. Wynter had put it off because she’d had no address to give them until now, and even better, she could also give them a tuition deposit. It wouldn’t leave much for gas and food for the coming week, but she could get by since she’d be living right above the barn.

      She whistled while she worked. It was one of the happiest days in a very long time. She finished the last stall just before eleven. Now the rest of the day was free until five in the afternoon when she brought horses in for the night. Wynter hurried to empty the last wheelbarrow full of manure on the pile in the back. After putting the tools back in the shed, she crossed over to the office. Thomas came out with the checks.

      “Here you go, Wynter.” He grinned. “Your first check.”

      “Thank you.” Her gaze dropped to the amount printed on the paper and she swallowed. There must be a mistake. She’d never made this much at the Southards. As much as she needed the money, she didn’t want to risk losing the job if this was an error.

      “Thomas,” Wynter whispered before he passed her on the way to the barn. “This can’t be right.” When he frowned she hurried on, “It’s—it’s too much money.”

      Thomas relaxed. “There’s no mistake, girl. Mr. Anderson believes in paying the help. In return he expects hard work, make no mistake.”

      She looked at the amount on the check and grinned. “Damn. I mean thanks. Thanks a lot!”

      She turned toward the truck, still smiling.

      “Where are you going?” Thomas inquired.

      She laughed. “School, Thomas. I’m going to school. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in plenty of time for afternoon feeding.”

      Wynter felt lighter than she had in a long time. She stopped at the convenience store across from Pheasant Run to cash the check. When the man saw it was from Nelson Anderson, he handed her the money, no questions asked. She bought an apple and a big bottle of water and aimed the rattletrap truck toward Durham.

      After parking outside the financial aid office, she glanced around and couldn’t keep down the sense of anticipation she felt. She was going to Duke! Spring semester classes had finished the previous week, so the campus was almost deserted, but she still felt an air of challenge. Before heading inside, Wynter washed her face and hands with the water left over in the bottle and changed her soiled t-shirt for a fresh one. The papers were in her hand, and the money was in her pocket.

      It was almost an hour later before she left. She was registered. They would let her start on a part-time basis over their summer session. Plus, the financial aid people said they had discovered another scholarship for which they felt sure she qualified. It would cover tuition, come fall. Now she just had to buy books. The other things she needed she didn’t even want to think of at the moment. She had managed advanced math classes and her other high school courses without either a computer or a calculator. She would make do with using the library until she saved enough money for a computer.

      She knew she should head back, but she still had time, so she took a few minutes to walk around campus. Over the past year, she’d looked at so many brochures and pictures she felt she knew her way around already. It was quiet now, but next week it would reawaken with students and faculty. The fall would be even more exciting. Wynter grinned when she headed back to her truck.

      She should tell her mother where she was, what was going on. The thought struck her as she turned the key in the ignition. No. Not yet. Not until she was truly settled. The sting of what happened at home was still too fresh. Wynter found that out last night when she had jerked away from Nelson Anderson and almost sent him sprawling. She wasn’t ready yet to talk to her mom—or Wythe. She thought about the letter she’d left her mother.

       Ma—I’m sorry. I got in trouble today. It was just supposed to be a prank to get even with Pay, but it got out of hand. Anyway, Mr. Southard fired me—and he’s taking away my scholarship.

       I can’t take it around here anymore. I’m leaving to see if I can find a way to get into college somewhere, even if it’s not Duke. I promise I’ll take care of myself and get in touch with you once I’m back on my feet. Please don’t worry.

      But she knew Irene O’Reilly would worry. Wynter tamped down her guilt with the knowledge Wythe Bradshear would be there to comfort her. Wythe was always there. And maybe with her gone, he’d do something about the way he’d always watched Mama.

       Just a little longer. When I’ve got summer school under my belt, I’ll let her know then.

      She headed out along the tree-lined road bordering campus and back to the highway. Pheasant Run. What a great name. So much classier than Southard Farms.

      And Nelson Anderson was different than anyone she’d ever encountered. СКАЧАТЬ