Wealth Beyond Riches

by Vickie McDonough

  “Be with you in a few minutes.”

  Sasha nodded and checked her list. Rita would need lots more sugar to cook up goodies for the children. She couldn’t help smiling, knowing how much Jim would also enjoy the treats. That man had an appetite bigger than the whole state of New York, not that anyone would notice with his lean, muscular form.

  Shaking her head, she pulled her thoughts away from Jim and studied her list. She’d need more flour, canned goods, and fresh vegetables, but she also needed to be frugal. If they didn’t find the will, then her little family would be scattered in three different directions. But then again, she could send any leftover food back with Mary and Rita if things turned out for the worst. Making a mental note to up the quantities, she turned back to the counter.

  Wilma Plunkett wiped her plump hands on her apron. “Now, how can I help you?”

  Sasha borrowed a stubby pencil, changed the amounts, added several items, and then handed the long list back to Mrs. Plunkett. The woman’s eyes widened.

  “I sure hope you aren’t in a hurry. It might take a while to gather up all of this. Plus, my Henry will have to load it, and he’s down at the livery just now.”

  “My wagon is right outside, so he can load it whenever he’s ready.” Sasha’s stomach suddenly rumbled, and she glanced at the storekeeper, hoping the woman didn’t hear. “Perhaps I’ll go eat something at the diner while I wait.”

  Mrs. Plunkett flashed a knowing smile. “Sounds like that might be a good idea.”

  They shared a laugh, and Sasha walked back outside, peeking up at the sky. The clouds were dispersing and looked less threatening than before. Just maybe she’d get home without getting wet.

  As she entered the diner, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting. Fragrant scents tickled her nose, and the hum of conversation mixed with the clinking of silverware. She noticed an empty table in the corner and headed for it, but just before she reached her destination, a man stood up, blocking her path.

  Roman Loftus.

  Sasha scowled, remembering their last encounter.

  He met her glare with one of complete humbleness. “I owe you an apology, Miss Di Carlo.”

  She wanted to skirt around him or run back out the door but couldn’t in the face of his surprising meekness.

  “I acted dreadfully the other day. I make no excuses for my ridiculous behavior.” His hands drifted open in a stance of surrender. “Please accept my humble apology by joining me for dinner.”

  She glanced at his table and saw that he hadn’t yet received his meal. Never one to hold a grudge—even on an occasion when she sometimes wanted to—she smiled at him. “All right, Mr. Loftus, I’ll dine with you—and apology accepted.”

  In spite of her initial reservations, she enjoyed the meal, although Roman monopolized the conversation talking about his father’s oil business. Much to her disappointment, no mention was made of the men whom she’d overheard talking about cheating Indians. Taking Roman’s proffered arm, she allowed him to escort her back to the store once they’d finished eating.

  Just outside the door, he tugged her to a stop. “I wonder if you’d consider having dinner with me this Friday evening.”

  Sasha shook her head. In her heart, she knew there was no future for the two of them, and it irked her that he was so persistent, considering she’d just lost her uncle and was still mourning him. And for all she knew, she might well be packing to leave by Friday. “I don’t think that’s a good idea in light of all that’s going on right now.”

  Roman pursed his lips and stepped sideways to allow two older women to pass. He looked around, then back at her. “Come with me, please. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  In spite of her reservations, she followed him into the alley. Her heart picked up its pace, but she felt perfectly safe with so many people walking past on the nearby boardwalks. Roman had never threatened her. His frustration had always been directed at Jim. Roman shoved his hands into the pockets of his fine trousers and paced a few feet away and back.

  “This isn’t at all how I’d planned this.” He glanced at Sasha, with a look of apology.

  “Whatever it is, please just say it. I need to be getting back home.”

  He sighed and stopped in front of her. She took a half step backward to put some space between them.

  “All right. I know your uncle’s death was a shock—and then finding out that he left his property to the town. . .well, it must have felt like a kick in the teeth. I guess you’re planning to go back to New York soon.”

  She saw the question in his dark eyes but didn’t understand where he was going with his little speech. “I’ve not yet given up hope of finding my uncle’s will. I believe it will prove differently than what you’ve said.”

  He pursed his lips and shook his head. “If the will was around, you’d have found it by now. In another week, you’ll be evicted. I don’t want you to go back to New York, Sasha.”

  She opened her mouth to comment, but when he reached for her hand, she slammed her lips together. Her mind raced, trying to imagine what he wanted.

  “What I’m trying to say is. . .I want to marry you.” Looking a bit embarrassed, he lifted his derby hat and ran his fingers through his straight, black hair. “You’ll need a place to live and someone to take care of you. I want to be that person.”

  Sasha blinked, numb from his surprising proposal. She noticed he didn’t ask her to marry him, but simply told her he wanted to. Her mind swarmed with excuses, but she didn’t want to seem coldhearted.

  “I thank you for your kind offer, but I’m afraid I’m not in a position to marry right now. There are too many loose ends that need to be tied up.”

  Roman’s congenial look shifted to one of displeasure. It was obvious he hadn’t expected her to turn him down. Most of Keaton’s single women would have considered him the catch of the town, but she saw past his fine looks and into his murky heart. She suspected that by marrying her, he hoped to somehow gain control of Dewey’s property, but with it going to the town, she failed to see how that was possible.

  “I could help you, if you’d let me.” His eyes pleaded with her to accept his offer.

  “Thank you, but no. I can’t marry you.” She pivoted and rushed out of the alley back into the mercantile, praying he wouldn’t follow. She’d had her fill of Roman Loftus and only wanted to get her supplies and leave town.

  Mr. Plunkett was almost done loading the wagon. The man was shorter than his wife but muscled from years of hauling supplies. As she waited for Mrs. Plunkett to finish with her customer, she watched Roman stalk off. Sasha longed to be married and settled, but Roman wasn’t the man she envisioned herself with.

  It was Jim. He was the one who made her heart flutter. He was a man to look up to—a kind, caring man.

  Why couldn’t he show an interest in her like Roman had? Was a simple kiss all he wanted from her?

  ❧

  Jim tightened the cinch and stepped up into the saddle. His horse snorted and fidgeted, anxious to be off. Jim hadn’t wanted to stop and eat dinner, because he was in a hurry to tell Sasha the good news, but he’d gone to the house looking for her and found dinner ready. Not wanting to disappoint Rita, he’d wolfed down her delicious stew and fresh biscuits. He adored Sasha, but his belly sure was glad she’d hired Rita to do the cooking. He swatted his horse with the ends of the reins and clicked out the side of his mouth. His mount took off at a fast clip.

  As he rounded the third bend in the road, he saw Sasha and the wagon coming over the hill.

  “He’yah!” Jim nudged his horse into a gallop, eating up the distance between him and the wagon. His stomach churned with eager anticipation at the prospect of Sasha’s surprised expression.

  At the bottom of the hill, Sasha stopped the wagon and stood up with her hand blocking the sun from her eyes. He could tell she was worried. As he pulled alongside the wagon, he yanked his horse to a quick stop and jumped off.
>
  “What’s wrong? Has someone been hurt?” Sasha started to climb down, but he lifted up his arms and hoisted her to the ground.

  He couldn’t quit grinning. “I found it! I found the will!” His hands on her upper arms tightened.

  Sasha’s concern instantly changed to joy, and she leaned forward, hugging him. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Where did you find it?”

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “At the cabin. I found a box that must have been under the floorboards. It was charred but still intact.” Leaning back, he looked her in the eye. “Your uncle left almost everything to you and nothing to the town.”

  Astonishment widened her eyes. “Truly?”

  “Yes. There was a new amendment to the will dated a week before Dewey died.”

  “Oh, I’m so relieved. I wanted so badly to stay here and not go back to New York. Everything I love is here.”

  Jim studied her face until her cheeks turned a dark red. More than ever, he wanted Sasha to marry him, but now, they were even further apart. She was a wealthy woman. And yes, he had the money Dewey had left him—or would soon—and the money in the bank, but it didn’t come close to Sasha’s wealth. If he confessed his love now, she’d just think he was after her property, like Roman Loftus. His joy gone, he stepped back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just relieved we found the will.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Safe. I hid it in the place I used to hide my money before I started putting it in the bank.”

  “Good.” Sasha glanced over her shoulder at the wagon. “I guess we’d better get this food home. Then what should we do about the will since the attorney is gone?”

  “I’ll go talk to the sheriff and see what he thinks.” He lifted her back into the wagon, amazed at her trust in him. She didn’t pressure him about where the will was but simply trusted him to take care of it. His chest swelled a bit.

  Jim picked his horse’s reins. “You were gone quite a while. What took so long?”

  Sasha glanced down at him, her lips pressed together as if she didn’t want to tell him. “Mrs. Plunkett said it would take some time to gather up all my supplies, so since I missed dinner, I ate at the diner.”

  Jim nodded and mounted his horse.

  “I. . .uh. . .ate with Roman Loftus.”

  Feeling as if he’d been shot with a renegade arrow, he spun his mount around to face her.

  “Sasha! How could you—after the way he treated us the other day!” He clenched his jaw, just thinking about Sasha being in that scoundrel’s company. Couldn’t she see Loftus was a wolf in sheep’s clothing?

  Jiggling the reins, she made a kissing smack, which set the horses in motion. The wagon groaned as if in pain and creaked forward. “I didn’t plan to eat with him. He was just there—and so remorseful that it seemed cruel not to accept his apology.”

  “I don’t understand why you can’t see him for who he is.”

  Sasha glared at him. “I realize he’s rather shallow, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t treat him as nice as the next person.”

  “You’re far too sweet and naïve.” Jim reached over and pulled on the reins, stopping the wagon. The two horses snorted and pawed the ground. “Loftus only wants to get control of your uncle’s property—and he’s not above using you to do so.”

  “You’re just jealous.” She sat back and crossed her arms, not mentioning that she’d thought the very same thing about Roman just a short while ago. Why did they have to argue about him? She’d never planned to accept his dinner invitation again.

  Jim’s stormy black eyes looked as if they would spit forth lightning bolts any second. “Along with your uncle’s will was Kizzie Arbuckle’s land deed and her oil lease.” He looked at her long and hard. “The lease papers were signed by Roman Loftus—president of Chamber Oil.”

  Sasha blinked, confusion numbing her mind. “But how could that be? Roman never even mentioned Chamber Oil.”

  Jim’s gaze softened. “Maybe that’s because he owns it. He’s been stringing you along all this time.”

  She gasped. Wave after wave of shock slapped at her. “He tricked me.”

  Jim’s horse danced around, and he turned his mount back to face her. “Loftus only wanted the land so Chamber Oil could drill and make him richer. It wasn’t about you, Sasha; it was always about the land.”

  Nineteen

  Sasha unloaded a couple of canned food items from the crate and handed one to Leah and the other to Philip. The children were having a grand time running the cans over to the pantry, handing them to Rita, and skipping back. Their sweet smiles softened her aching heart.

  She’d always been so careful to guard her heart. Now Jim was upset with her, and her heart hurt because of it.

  She had also thought Roman had become a friend, even though his temper got the best of him at times, but she’d seen his signature with her own eyes. Roman Loftus was president of Chamber Oil—a company he’d never even mentioned to her. He lied and tried to woo her to get at her uncle’s property. Those three men who’d pestered her uncle probably worked for him.

  But how could he, being full-blooded Creek, be callous enough to cheat his own people—and maybe even his own family?

  She should have known by the way Roman always talked about his father’s company whenever she tried to talk about Chamber Oil. He was deftly deflecting her to a different subject. How could she have been so stupid?

  She slammed the can onto the counter, making Leah jump. The girl stared at her with wide blue eyes.

  “Sorry, sweetie. I was just thinking about something that upset me.”

  Leah smiled and reached for the can before her brother could get it, then she darted back toward the pantry. Philip stared up at her with sparkling eyes, holding his palm out. Sasha handed him the final two cans, and his eyes widened along with his smile.

  “She gived me two of dem,” he said, trotting back to the pantry, carefully carrying his bounty.

  Sasha lugged the empty crate outside, passing Jim as he carried in a twenty-five pound sack of flour. His warm smile made her insides tingle. Perhaps he wasn’t so upset, after all.

  At least she’d done the right thing upping her food quantities and wouldn’t have to return to the mercantile for more supplies for a while and chance running into Roman again. She set the crate next to the others and wandered down the hill toward the pond.

  At the water’s edge, she tossed in a pebble and watched the ripples it made. A mother duck swam on the far side of the pond with her ducklings, snapping up an unsuspecting insect every so often. Sasha swatted at a mosquito that hummed past her ear.

  What was her mother doing now? Did she miss her?

  Roman Loftus’s character was so similar to her mother’s that it surprised her that she hadn’t noticed before now. Her mother only cared about fame and fortune, even walking away from her only child when given the choice between Sasha and a wealthy man.

  Sasha had tried all her life to be good enough to earn her mother’s love, but she’d never succeeded. Until she met Dewey, she’d never known what unconditional love was. In the short time she’d known him, Dewey had loved her that way, but he’d said that God was the only One who could truly give her the security she longed for.

  Tears pooled in her eyes and burned her throat. She’d had such high hopes for a new life here in Indian Territory, but the one person who’d truly loved her was dead. Could she live in the big house alone? Did she even want to?

  For so long, she’d thought having family, a home, and setting down roots would fill the empty spot inside her. Now she had a home and plenty of money, but that emptiness was still there.

  From a distance, she heard the children’s laughter, and hope flickered anew. At least she was helping a couple of the widows and their families. Maybe she could somehow figure out a way to help the others. She lifted her gaze toward the heavens. God, if You’re truly up there and care abou
t people, show me what to do with all that I’ve been given.

  ❧

  Jim hated to disturb Sasha, but he needed to apologize. She looked so lonely there standing by the pond. His boot snapped a twig, and Sasha spun around, staring at him with damp eyes. He walked toward her, noticing she looked as melancholy as he felt. He came to a stop several feet away and studied the ground. Finally, he looked at her. “I’m sorry for getting upset about you eating with Loftus.”

  She waved her hand in the air. “No, you were right, but I didn’t know everything you knew at the time. I won’t ever have anything to do with Roman Loftus again if I can help it.”

  “Well. . .for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know you cared about him.”

  Sasha shook her head, but her tears told Jim that she cared more for Loftus than he’d thought. He felt his own dreams die a little more. She leaned forward, crying into her hands, and he couldn’t help pulling her to his chest. He’d hold her one last time, build her cabins, then ride out as soon as things were settled and she had control of her land.

  Maybe if he worked hard enough on the land he wanted to buy in the Oklahoma Territory, he could forget her. Forget how her eyes twinkled before she teased him. Forget her long lashes clustered together from the tears she’d shed. He was a simple farmer and carpenter. How could he compete with the likes of wealthy oilmen?

  Sasha finally had the home she’d craved for so long. He couldn’t ask her to give that up.

  He rested his head on her silky, rose-scented hair and held her tightly, wanting to remember this moment with her in his arms and the sun glistening on the pond. A light breeze lifted the rebellious strands of Sasha’s hair that had escaped her long braid, and he smoothed them down. All too soon, she sniffed and pulled back.

  “I didn’t care for Roman like you think. He was a friend—of sorts. A while back, I overhead some oilmen talking about cheating Indians. I needed his help to try to find the men responsible.” Her thin brows dipped down, and she uttered an unlady-like snort. “I was asking help of the very man responsible. How could I have been so naïve?”