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He raised one of his arrogant eyebrows and scanned the blanket, ledgers and slates sprawled on the ground. He didn’t need words to express the thoughts clearly written across his face: this doesn’t look like an unplanned walk.
Samantha huffed and picked up the ledger again, interested anew in the endless columns of numbers.
“Miss Wells, I can’t say I expected to find you here either, but I’ve a need to speak with you.” He glanced briefly at the equation-filled slate on her lap, and the side of his mouth quirked into a cocky little smile. “Do you ever take time off from that fancy mathematics?”
“Do you ever take time off from being a cowboy?”
The smile on his lips straightened into a firm, white line, and he swung off his horse. “I own five thousand head of cattle in the Teton Valley. I’m a rancher. That’s a mite different than being the hired help we call cowboys.”
“Indeed.” She nodded curtly and drew in a long, deep breath. With Samantha sitting beside her, she couldn’t exactly persuade him to let his sister graduate, but she still needed to ask about donating money to the academy. If only she could be polite long enough to make her request.
It was going to be very, very hard.
She blew out her breath and forced herself to smile.
“Can I help you up?” Mr. Hayes extended his hand.
She stared at it for a moment, hesitating to reach for him. But really, what was the point of being rude when she still had to ask about that wretched donation? She placed her palm firmly in his.
Mistake.
His wide, callused palm engulfed her small fingers, and heat surged through the spot where their skin met. He raised her to her feet without ceremony, as though he didn’t feel the impact of their touch somewhere deep inside. As soon as she was able, she tugged away her hand and shoved it behind her back, where it could stay safely away from Mr. Hayes.
The rascal didn’t even seem to notice, just pinned her with his clear blue eyes. “It seems you’ve taken quite an interest in the business affairs of Hayes Academy here lately.” Afternoon sunlight glistened down on Mr. Hayes’s head and cowboy hat, turning the golden-blond tufts of hair beneath the brim nearly white.
Elizabeth forced her gaze away from his hair. Why was she staring at it, anyway? So the man had beautiful blond hair. His sister did, as well. Blond hair wasn’t that uncommon.
Except when it shimmered like silvery-gold in the sunlight.
And she was still thinking about his hair. Ugh! “I teach at the academy. It’s only natural I’d be interested in it.”
“Interested enough to write editorials for the newspaper?”
Every bit of blood in her face drained to her feet, and her limbs felt suddenly cold. Did he hate her for interfering? Feel she had no business fighting for new students? Resent the negative attention she’d drawn to the school when that dreadful reporter retaliated?
The emotionless look on his face gave nothing away. His eyes stayed that cool blue, the same shade as a winter sky, without a hint of either understanding or disdain as they waited for her answer.
“Educating women is important to me.”
“I gathered that much yesterday. A bit hard to miss, actually, but I’m curious about the school ledgers at the moment.” He nodded toward the books, the one lying on the blanket and the other still in Samantha’s lap. “My lawyer informs me you’re keeping a set. I assume these are them?”
Oh, perfect. Just what she wanted to discuss. “My brother in Albany has the official ledgers. Perhaps you should talk to him.”
“I intend to, but I’d like a look at yours, as well.”
“No.” The word flew out of her mouth before she could stop it.
Samantha slammed her ledger closed. “Why do you want them? So you can look for some excuse to close down the school? As if pulling me out isn’t bad enough.”
Mr. Hayes glanced briefly at his sister. “This has nothing to do with you, Sam. I’m only doing the job Grandpa left me. Miss Wells, you must be aware that since I’ve been given my grandfather’s seat on the school’s board, I can request your books at any time.”
She knew very well what he could request, and what he’d likely do if he saw the books. He’d take one look at how little money was in the account and want the school closed immediately.
“Mind if I borrow your rag?”
“Excuse me?”
Mr. Hayes held up his hand—the same he’d used to help her stand. His palm was practically white, smeared with chalk dust.
Heat flooded her neck and face. She didn’t need to look down to know her own hands were covered in fine powder.
“Messy place, these fields.”
She reached into her pocket, grabbed a hanky—one of the ones she was forever using to wipe her chalk-covered hands on—and held it out to him. “I apologize. I don’t usually forget to clean my hands.”
“Thank you.” He rubbed the cloth over his palm and returned it.
She wiped her hands furiously, even though she’d be back to work the second he left.
He simply watched her, a half smile quirking the side of his mouth. “You missed a spot.” He pointed to her right sleeve, where a huge smear of white stood stark against the yellow of her dress.
“Thank you,” she gritted.
“So can I take those ledgers now?”
“I’d—” ...rather eat a toad!
Could she lie? Tell him things were going well—or at least as well as they had been before the newspaper article appeared on Monday morning—and tear out the last pages of the ledgers so the school appeared to have money?
She rubbed her fingers over her temples. No, of course she couldn’t do such a thing. She’d never been one to lie for convenience, and she wasn’t about to develop the habit now. He’d find out the truth soon anyway; just as he’d learned of the article she’d written to the paper. Better to be honest.
No, better to ask for another donation, and then be honest.
Except she didn’t want to ask the arrogant man in front of her for a penny.
Taking her requests to Jonah, with his kind smiles and grandfatherly manner, had been easy. But the man who had stormed into her class yesterday and torn Samantha out of school wasn’t exactly grandfatherly.
Or approachable.
Or kind.
“Miss Wells?”
She stared into Luke Hayes’s rigid face, his mouth and eyes stern and unreadable, and forced herself to form the words. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to speak to you about the ledgers and the academy. We’ve recently had difficulty with several of our donors, and I was hoping you could make a donation to Hayes Academy.”
There. She’d said it. Surely she deserved some type of award. A medal of honor, a golden cup, a life-size statue of herself erected in the town square.
“Yeah, that would at least be something nice you could do for the school.” Samantha crossed her arms over her chest. “Seeing how you’re dead set on pulling me out of it.”
But Mr. Hayes didn’t bother to look at his sister. “Grandpa donated slews of money to Hayes Academy. I don’t understand why you can’t be happy with what it’s already received.”
She threw up her hands. The man’s brain was as dense as a piece of lead. “Happy? You think I want a donation to make me happy? Girls’ futures are at stake, not my happiness. It’s an issue of keeping the school open, so we can train young women, not pleasing me.”
Mr. Hayes rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Why is girls getting high school diplomas so all-fired important? I never graduated from high school, and neither did Grandpa. Yet here I am, doing a fine job of running my ranch without any piece of paper from a high school.”
She opened her mouth to respond, then snapped it shut. What did she say to that? Was it true Jonah Hayes never finished school? Probably. A lot of young people left to find work before graduating even now, let alone sixty years ago.
Mr. Hayes’s face remained set, his jaw determined, but sincerity filled the little sun lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He wasn’t furious with her as he’d been yesterday but was asking an honest question.
And here she was, parading the importance of educating women in front of him, when he’d never finished his own education. Did he feel slighted or belittled? That hadn’t been her intention. “Well, you see, a high school education is important because—”
“Never mind. I read your article last night. I don’t need to hear some highfalutin list of arguments in person. Just give me the ledgers, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh...um...” And there again the man had her speechless. From ledgers to donations and back again, she could hardly keep up with the conversation. “Will Monday be all right? Samantha and I have a bit more work to do on them this afternoon, and I’ve some issues to discuss with my brother. I truly need the books over the weekend.”
Mr. Hayes blew out a long, tired breath, the kind that held a world of weariness in the exhaled air. “Monday, then. Sorry to disturb you ladies.” And with that, he swung back onto his horse and galloped off.
Elizabeth tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. The conversation surely could have gone worse. At least she hadn’t stormed away in a rage, and he hadn’t refused to give money to the school—
Though he hadn’t agreed to give any, either.
So why did she have a sour taste in her mouth?
She turned and offered Samantha a weak smile. “I feel like I handled that wrong.”
Samantha shrugged as she settled back down beside the tree. “It’s Luke. Anytime you disagree with him, he’d say you handled something wrong.”
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.
