Cassandra Austin - Hero Of The Flint Hills

“Papa!”

A tall thin man with fine gray hair had come through the door. Emily flung herself into his arms, and he swung her around much as Christian had done. “It’s good to have you home, Em,” he said once she was back on her feet. He sounded slightly out of breath. “Help the lady down, Christian.”

In a moment she was on the ground, and Christian’s callused hand was slipped out of hers. Instead of stepping away, he took her arm lightly and led her forward. “Miss Sterling, let me introduce Hugh Prescott. Pa, Lynnette Sterling.”

“We’re happy to have you, Miss Sterling,” Hugh said, his arm still around his daughter. “I’m sorry Arlen isn’t here to make you feel welcome. The rest of us will do the best we can.”

Lynnette smiled. “That’s most kind of you.” He looked so much like Christian she had to turn and compare their faces. But Christian wasn’t smiling. She turned back to the elder Prescott quickly. “Please, call me Lynnette.”

“Christian, get Jake to help you with the trunks. I’m sure the ladies would like to get out of the sun.” He turned and walked Emily to the house, releasing her only as they came to the door. He held a hand toward Lynnette, encouraging her forward.

She resisted taking a backward glance at Christian. Why had he been watching her so seriously? Was he judging her suitability to marry his brother?

She decided to put Arlen’s strange brother out of her mind and walked resolutely through the door. Emily had crossed a small room lined with benches. Hooks on the wall held coats and rain gear. Several pair of boots were shoved under the benches. At the end of the room, the door stood open.

“That way’s the washroom and the kitchen.” Emily pointed to the left when Lynnette had caught up with her. “This is Pa’s study,” she said, indicating the room to the right of the entry.

Lynnette followed Emily through a door across the hall and stepped into the living room. There was a rock fireplace, groups of comfortable-looking chairs, small tables, shelves and an open stairway leading to the top floor.

Across the room stood double glass doors. The view of the valley beyond was breathtaking. Lynnette walked toward the doors trying to think of words to describe the shades of green in the grasses and trees, the sheer distance that one was able to see.

She opened the doors and stepped out. The round balcony was larger than it had appeared from below. With the breeze on her face and nothing in sight to ground her on the hillside, Lynnette felt as if she were floating over the valley. Her fingers and toes tingled with adrenaline, and she gripped the rail.

“I’ll tell Martha to bring some lemonade.” Hugh had spoken softly, and Lynnette turned in time to see him leave his daughter’s side. As she walked back inside, he disappeared around the stairway. A large black and white cat entered from the same direction and sat inspecting the new arrivals.

“That’s Tyrant,” Emily said, motioning Lynnette into a chair. “Don’t try to be his friend.” At Lynnette’s raised eyebrows, she continued, “He’ll make up his own mind, and you’re better off ignoring him. He loves Arlen and Papa, but barely tolerates the rest of us. Martha despises him, but I think he loves her the best, maybe because she smells like the kitchen.”

Tyrant walked past them as if they were unimportant and sprang into a brocade-covered chair, making himself comfortable. “Come here, Tyrant,” Emily coaxed. “Don’t you remember me?” Tyrant gazed at her, blinked and proceeded to wash his paws.

Christian came through the door backward, carrying one side of Lynnette’s trunk. The other end was supported by a boy only slightly older than Emily. “Welcome home, Miss Emily,” he said, giving her a smile that could only be described as teasing.

“That’s Jake,” Emily said to Lynnette. “He works in the barn and does simple tasks around the place.”

Lynnette bit her lip and tried for a pleasant smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Jake.”

Christian gave an exaggerated sigh. Jake, of course, had stopped walking as soon as he saw Emily. Christian set his end of the trunk on the floor, causing Jake to drop his, then seated himself on the trunk, crossed his arms and watched his younger sister. Her hair was a most unsophisticated mess around her shoulders, making her look younger than her thirteen years. In contrast, she sat demurely on a wingback chair, modeling her pose after Lynnette’s. Miss Sterling, he corrected himself. He hadn’t been invited to call her Lynnette.

Emily cast poor Jake a twinkling smile. “Miss Lynnette doesn’t really mean it, Jake. She’s just being polite.”

Christian turned his attention to Lynnette as the young people continued their teasing. Her eyes traveled from one to the other, amusement evident in the soft curve of her mouth. If he wasn’t mistaken she deliberately avoided looking at him. Fine. It gave him time to study her.

Arlen’s “china doll” came to mind, but it didn’t quite fit There was too much life under those porcelain features. That, more than her beauty, made her attractive. She had perfect manners, as Arlen had said, was quiet and reserved—reserved to the point of being embarrassed by his display of affection for his little sister, a sister whom he hadn’t seen in nearly a year.

Once or twice he had found himself trying to measure her reaction to this land, his home. What did he care whether she liked it here or looked down her nose at their way of life? He wasn’t looking for a wife. And if he was, a woman like Lynnette wouldn’t even be in the running.

But that wasn’t why he studied her. He felt a need to protect his brother. Arlen was young and could be easily taken in by promises from those pretty lips. And she didn’t love Arlen. He was sure of it. She hadn’t asked about him once, not when Arlen had failed to meet them at the station, not during the long ride to the ranch.

Had she committed herself to Arlen out of desperation? Arlen had indicated that she was practically destitute. Was that the truth? Her dress certainly seemed older than the latest fashion, but had she chosen it carefully for effect?

Christian gave himself a mental shake. Her actual situation wasn’t the point What kind of a wife would she make Arlen? His eyes narrowed as he watched her laugh softly at one of Emily’s quips. She was a beauty, all right, just as Arlen had said. What was inside, however, remained to be seen.

He stood abruptly. “Are you two done bickering?”

“I believe so, sir,” Jake replied. “The poor girl’s starting to repeat herself.”

“Only because it’s so hard for you to understand things,” Emily replied airily.

Christian and Jake lifted the trunk as one and headed for the stairs. Christian stepped aside at the bottom, allowing Jake to back up the stairs, taking most of the weight himself. Jake was strong, but he was seventeen, a boy yet.

A grinning boy, at present. The grin didn’t leave Jake’s face all the way up the stairs. They put the trunk down and Jake opened the door to the room Lynnette would be using. “This is one heavy trunk.” The boy grunted as he lifted it again.

“I think the lady plans to stay awhile.”

“You reckon she’s got a different outfit for every day?”

Christian chuckled. They walked down the stairs and met Martha at the bottom with a tray of lemonade. Christian reached for a tall glass. “Why thank you, Martha. You read my mind.”

She carefully swung the tray out of reach. “These are for the young ladies.”

Christian threw his arm around Jake’s shoulder as they walked through the living room. “Fine thing, Jake. We do all the work, and they get the refreshment.”