Читать книгу The Wyoming Heir - Naomi Rawlings - Страница 15

Chapter Five

Covered in dust and smelling of sweat, Luke hurried through the back entrance to Grandpa’s house. After spending the first half of the day sorting through the things in Grandpa’s office, he’d decided to take a peek at the stable. After all, if he shut down the estate, he’d need to sell off whatever horseflesh Grandpa had acquired. But at a glance, some of that horseflesh had looked a little too good to be sold. So he’d hopped astride Triton, the finest beast in the stable, for a little ride.

He certainly hadn’t expected to find Samantha and Miss Wells. He glanced down at his hand and couldn’t help but smile. The white stain from her chalk dust had long since faded, but he’d never forget the memory of first looking at his hand and seeing white, then watching the color rise in Miss Wells’s face.

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.

Again, the knock.

Luke gritted his teeth and looked between his sister, the butler and the door. He’d give his grandfather’s estate away in a second, if he could be instantly back in Wyoming, Sam by his side. But since that wasn’t an option, what else could he do? Keep the slick-looking man outside, and haul Sam upstairs to hog-tie her to her bed for a day or two?

She’d never speak to him again. “Stevens, please show Mr. Wells into the...” He snapped his fingers, the name of the room escaping him.

The butler raised his eyebrows. “The gentlemen’s reception room, sir? Or would you prefer the drawing room since the lady is present?”

Wasn’t one room the same as another?

“The drawing room will do nicely.” Samantha moved toward the double doors on the right.

Luke followed her into the room and nearly had to step back out. The carpet. The molding. The drapes. The furniture. Gold gleamed at him from every direction, and the few things that weren’t gold were white. Someone had painted the walls a blindingly pure shade, and the white cushions on the furniture looked so bright they’d likely never been sat on. A large marble fireplace, also white, dominated the far wall, while floor-to-ceiling windows sent shafts of sunlight into the room.

He narrowed his eyes at his sister, who stepped daintily across the room. “Hang it all, Sam. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to this banquet earlier?”

Samantha sat on a small fancy sofa thing with perfect cushions, her chin quivering slightly. “I didn’t feel like being yelled at.”

“I’m not...” Yelling. Though he was close. He pressed his lips together to keep from saying more.

“Mr. Hayes.” Stevens stood in the open doorway. “Miss Hayes. May I present Mr. Jackson Wells.”

Wells cast Luke that too-polished smile but walked straight to Sam. “Ah, Samantha, your beauty this evening is riveting.” The man settled onto the dainty couch, somehow confident the fragile furniture would hold two people.

Luke eyed the chair beside them. Those spindly gold legs would likely collapse if he sat down, and if the chair didn’t break, his filthy clothes would ruin the cushions.

“Thank you, Jackson. It’s lovely to see you, as well.” Samantha sent the dandy a smile despite her still trembling lips and extended her hand, palm down, which Wells kissed.

Kissed.

He should burn the man’s lips off.

“Luke, allow me to make introductions.” Samantha sniffed, her nose tilted into the air, but something wet glinted in her eyes.

Certainly he wasn’t being a big enough fool to make her cry, was he?

“This is Jackson Wells, son of our esteemed local assemblyman, Thomas Wells. He also works for you, as manager of Great Northern Accounting and Insurance’s office in Albany.”

“I know he works for me.” And the knowledge didn’t curb his urge to chase away the scoundrel with his Colt.

“Jackson.” Samantha’s smile seemed more genuine as she glanced at her suitor. “This is my brother, Luke Hayes.”

Wells’s gaze, sickeningly friendly, rested on Luke. “We’ve spoken.”

“Mr. Wells.” Luke nodded, his voice vibrating like a dog’s low growl. Probably wouldn’t do to fire the man just for being sweet on his sister, but it was tempting.

Wells leaned forward and whispered something in Sam’s ear, and she laughed softly.

Luke flexed his fingers. “Don’t eastern folk ask permission from the man of the family before they start courting a lady?”

Samantha stopped midwhisper, and Wells stood. “I spoke with the late Mr. Hayes before he passed. He was thrilled when I requested to call on Samantha. He and my father are acquainted, of course, and—”

Luke cut the boy off with a wave of his hand. “And you expect to take her to the banquet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Plans have changed. Samantha is accompanying me. You can meet her there.”

Sam sprang from her seat. “Luke, you can’t—”

“Perhaps you’re concerned about a chaperone?” Wells interjected. “My sister is awaiting us in the carriage. She’s a spinster and a perfectly acceptable chaperone.”

“Miss Wells, Luke.” Sam held her chin at a determined angle, but she blinked against the tears in her eyes. “The mathematics teacher you met at the academy yesterday.”

So Miss Wells and the dandy were related after all. And that also made her the daughter of the local assemblyman. No one had bothered to tell him that, either.

What was the daughter of a politician doing teaching mathematics like some spinster?

Not that it mattered. Nope. Certainly not. Whatever Miss Wells chose to do or not do, whoever she happened to be related to or not related to, was no concern of his.

Luke rubbed his hand over his forehead and glanced back at his sister, only to find more tears glistening in her eyes. Confound it. Why did she cry at everything he did? Made him feel like an ogre—which he most definitely was not.

Or so he hoped. Maybe he had some questions for Sam, and needed to have a long chat with her suitor, but now was hardly the time to go into all that. Clearly Sam and Wells had arranged to attend the banquet, and it hardly seemed fair to stop them just because he’d arrived in town and hadn’t known about their plans.

But he still didn’t cotton to the idea of Sam going off without him. “How about this. Sam and I will go to the banquet together. Sam, if your friend and the mathematics teacher want to tag along, so be it.”

Sam bit her bottom lip and sent him an uncertain glance. “Does that mean you’re going to change clothes?”