The Wyoming Heir. Naomi Rawlings

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      “You don’t. Ma would want me to stay here. I just got a letter from her last week saying how much she loved hearing about how happy I am in Valley Falls.”

      Of course Ma would say that. But then, Ma hadn’t exactly told Sam about her consumption, either. And if Ma were here, watching his conversation with Sam right now, she’d be upset with the way he was handling things.

      He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the knots tightening his muscles. If he could manage a ranch with five thousand head of cattle, he could convince Sam to go back home while still keeping his promise. Couldn’t he? “Look, I’m sorry for how I brought up your leaving at school. I didn’t mean to yammer about it in front of your teacher. The words just slipped out, when you talked about packing a bag. But you can’t stay in New York now that Grandpa’s passed. Who would look after you? Besides I need your help around the estate for the next few weeks while we get ready to leave.

      “You can start going through the things in Grandpa’s room. You know better than me what should be kept or sold off. I figured Pa might cotton to a couple of keepsakes.” Which was probably more a dream than anything, given that Pa hadn’t talked to Grandpa in over thirty years. “The sooner we sort through this estate, the sooner we can get home.”

      “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?

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