Page 1 of The Rancher's Wedding

Prologue

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

1873

“One, two…”

Estelle Williams tiptoed away from her best friend. She knew the secret to hide and seek was to be as quiet as possible. Sounds would always betray you. It also helped that she had a plan and knew exactly where she was going to hide.

“...three, four…”

Megan was counting too fast, Estelle thought. Her heart raced. There was a tiny nook outside her father’s office and, if she could get there, she could curl up and hide inside. There was no way Megan could find her there. The question was, could she get there before Megan made it to ten?

“...five, six…”

Estelle inched up the stairs, light as a ballerina, wary of the steps that creaked. It was the house she had grown up in, so she had that advantage going for her. It also helped that she was still so small, even for an eleven-year-old.

“...seven, eight…”

She was almost there. The nook was just down the hall. She could do it. She held her breath and scurried her feet, making sure that each of her steps was perfectly silent.

“...nine…”

The nook was right there. She climbed inside right as Megan said...

“...ten! Ready or not, I’m going to find you.”

Estelle took in light, shallow, quick breaths, none of them reaching the bottom of her lungs. She felt tense and scared, with heightened awareness of the sounds that Megan made downstairs.

Estelle could hear her walking into the den and could almost sense her looking around corners; then she heard the quick footsteps of Megan moving across the wooden floor to look somewhere else. So long as Megan stayed downstairs, Estelle was safe.

The office door opened and closed. Estelle put her ear to the wall and listened as her father walked in, talking to someone else.

“Take a seat,” he said. “Now, let’s go over this. What’s your proposal?”

It sounded like grown-up talk, the kind of thing that Estelle wouldn’t usually be interested in, but something about them not knowing she was listening made it exciting. This was grown-up talk that Estelle wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Richard, this is my son, Ethan.” That was a voice Estelle didn’t recognize.

“Pleasure to meet you, young man.”

“Likewise, sir.” That was the man’s son. He definitely didn’t sound like a child, but he didn’t quite sound like a grown-up, either. Estelle peeked through the thin spaces in the wood to try and get a look at him, but all she could see were the pants the men were wearing. She was too low to see any faces.

“Firm handshake, my lad. That’s the sign of a good man.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The other grown-up continued. “It is my understanding that you don’t have a son of your own to continue the family banking business.”

“No, just one beautiful daughter.”

“Quite beautiful.”

“She takes after her mother.”

The other man laughed. “Of course, she does! Now, what I propose to you is my son, who has just recently finished his education at the University of Pennsylvania, studying business and economics... Son, tell him your grades.”

There was a pause.

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