The Wyoming Heir. Naomi Rawlings

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      With her bright hazel eyes, perfect mouth and head of thick mahogany hair, the teacher was just as beautiful today as she had been yesterday...and terribly determined to wheedle money for the school out of him.

      Luke rolled his shoulders as he headed through the back hallway and out into the grand hall. Should he give the school some money? It wouldn’t hurt anything. Grandpa had left him more than enough. And it might help Sam to see he wasn’t some type of greedy tyrant.

      But then, he didn’t rightly know what he wanted to do with any of Grandpa’s money yet, besides give it to Pa. And how unfair would it be to all the other charities Grandpa had supported if he discounted them and wrote out a bank draft to Hayes Academy because a pretty little teacher with shiny hazel eyes smiled at him?

      Twenty-four hours in Valley Falls and his brain was already half mush. He had to get out of this place. Soon.

      Luke strode through the grand hall toward the bright marble staircase. He’d stayed out riding Triton for too long after meeting up with the womenfolk. Now he needed to bathe fast, if he didn’t want to arrive at that fancy banquet late. He could always scrub up quicklike in the stream behind the house, but this place crawled with enough servants that someone would probably venture along while he washed. Plus Sam could probably list a good ten rules about why a man couldn’t take a simple bath in a stream these days.

      A knock sounded behind him on the front door, not more than three feet away. He glanced around the large empty room with its glittering chandelier and polished white marble. “I’ll answer it.”

      The butler emerged from a doorway on the left, but Luke pulled the door open anyway. A dark-haired young man stood there, dressed in a tuxedo and top hat, his skin smooth and pale as though he’d never seen a day in the sun.

      The man pondered him for a moment, then a polished smile curved his lips, and he thrust his hand out. “Good evening. You must be Mr. Luke Hayes.”

      Luke shook the offered hand, the scent of his body’s odor rising as he moved his arm. The other man deserved some credit for not gagging.

      “I’m Jackson Wells.”

      Wells. As in related to the mathematics teacher? Couldn’t be. Miss Wells was proper all right, but she didn’t come off as slick, like the spiffed-up man in front of him. “Howdy, Mr. Wells.”

      “I’m manager at the Great Northern Accounting and Insurance office in Albany.” He rubbed the brim of his top hat.

      “Nice to meet you.” So this was the accountant for Hayes Academy—who also happened to share the same surname as his little mathematics teacher? He scratched behind his ear. The lawyer hadn’t said anything about the accountant and teacher being related, but he supposed it was possible.

      And either way, he had a couple hundred questions to ask the man, if not for needing to be ready for that banquet thing he’d gotten roped into.

      “Your grandfather hired me a few years ago. I imagine you own the accounting office now? It’s a pleasure. I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

      “Thanks for coming around, Mr. Wells. But I’ve got a banquet to get to. Let’s schedule an appointment at the office on Monday. About nine o’clock?”

      “Yes, sir.” Wells’s gaze drifted down Luke’s sweat-encrusted clothing, and the man frowned. “Were you planning to travel with us tonight? Should Samantha and I wait for you?”

      “Samantha and you?”

      “Of course.”

      “Traveling?” Luke’s scalp heated. The man spoke too easily, as though he expected to wrap Sam up in a blanket and haul her off to...to...

      Well, it didn’t really matter where the man wanted to cart her off to. The dandy was too old for his sister. “Sam’s not taking visitors today.”

      Something flashed in Wells’s eyes. A challenge? It was gone too soon, replaced by that overly polished face once again. “Is there some trouble with Samantha accompanying me to the banquet tonight?”

      Samantha at the banquet? Luke slammed the door in Wells’s face. “Sam!” He grimaced as his shout echoed up the polished stairs.

      “Mr. Hayes, sir.” The butler stepped forward. “Perhaps I can show Mr. Wells into the gentlemen’s reception room, where you can discuss the situation.”

      Luke turned to the butler. What was his name again? Stebbens? Stevens? “Thank you, no.”

      Sam appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in a long silvery-lavender gown. “Is Jackson here?” A thousand bursts of sunlight radiated from her face.

      He should speak, send her a look, do something to show his displeasure. But he only stared as her beautiful figure descended the stairs. It couldn’t be his sister. Her hair, a mixture of honey and spun gold, piled atop her head in curls, a few of which hung down to frame her soft face. Her cheeks glowed the perfect shade of pink and her lips...she’d dyed them red with something.

      Sam glided to the base of the stairs, an uncertain smile curving the corners of her mouth.

      A fist pounded on the door.

      The butler cleared his throat.

      His sister sniffed the air. “Goodness, you stink, Luke.”

      “Where did you get that dress?” His voice was too hoarse, and try as he might, he couldn’t look away. Oh, he knew she was of marrying age. Had handed her a letter from Levi just yesterday, likely with a proposal inside. But giving her a letter from an old friend was a far cry from letting her traipse around town dressed like that with the spiffed-up stranger outside.

      “Grandfather ordered it made for a ball earlier this summer. I didn’t attend, of course, after his heart failed, but I was able to have the color switched from blue to lavender. It’s appropriate for attending the banquet, with my still being in half mourning, don’t you think?” She spoke eloquently and smoothly, with a gentle lift of the shoulder here, and slight ducking of the chin there. She was practically a grown woman, wearing that beautiful gown and honoring her late grandfather.

      But none of that changed the two most important things. She was still his sister and... “Did you say you were going to the banquet, the one I’m attending?”

      He opened his mouth to add she was too young, then stopped and attempted to blow out his frustration in one giant breath.

      It worked great—until his shoulders tightened into knots.

      Sam frowned. “No. I’m wearing satin to a banquet in the town park. Yes, the banquet you’re attending. I gave Jackson my word. Now, if you would please step away from the door so Stevens can let Jackson inside. He came all the way from Albany just to pick me up.” Her dress swished, catching the light from the chandelier as she waved toward the door.

      Luke raked his hand through his hair. Mourning indeed. Why couldn’t the gown be some other color? A bright childlike yellow or pink. Not shades of lavender and silver that shimmered in the lighting and caused her skin to look as creamy as warm milk. He wanted his old sister back. The one that skinned her knees trying to climb trees and didn’t cry when she fell off a horse.

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