First, I need to thank my mother, Margie Turner, for believing in me even when I refused to be on the school newspaper in high school.
My agent, Lettie Lee, and my editor, Gail Chasan, have always had great faith in me, especially over the last few years, when my life turned into a roller coaster. Thank you both so much for your continued support and patience.
And last, but not least, Iâd like to thank Frank Bays for keeping me on trackâand on deadlineâthroughout the writing of this book. Thank you, honey, for thatâ¦and for keeping your head in the middle of a hurricane in Mexico. What would I do without you?
London, England
Seated with his three sisters in front of Clarence Jonesâs desk, Buck Wyatt lifted a dark brow at the solicitor who had worked for the family for as long as he could remember. âAll right, weâre all here, as you requested. What the devilâs going on? Whatâs the big mystery you couldnât talk about over the telephone? Have we won the lottery or what?â
A slight smile curling the corners of his mouth, Clarence only shrugged. âPossibly. It all depends on you.â
âAre you having a scavenger hunt like you had for your birthday?â Priscilla asked him, intrigued. âYou wouldnât tell us anything then, either.â
âOh, I hope so!â Katherine said, delighted. âWhatâs the prize this time? How about a week in Monte Carlo? That would be marvelous! Iâll invite Peterââ
âNo one said anything about a scavenger hunt or the lottery,â Elizabeth pointed out dryly. Studying the older man with narrowed eyes that missed little, she warned, âWatch it, Clarence. Youâre beginning to resemble kitty when she swallowed the canary. Cough up your secret before we have to pound it out of you.â
âThereâs no reason to get physical, Lizzie.â He chuckled, his green eyes twinkling behind the lenses of his glasses. âI do have some good newsâ¦possibly.â
âWhat do you meanâ¦possibly?â Buck retorted. âIt either is or it isnât good, old man. Which is it?â
Far from offendedâheâd been a family friend long before heâd become the Wyattsâ solicitorâClarence chuckled. âPatience, my dear boy. All in good time.â Sobering, he opened the single file that lay in front of him on his desk and added, âI received a copy of Hildaâs will yesterday from her attorney.â
Whatever Buck had been expecting, it wasnât that. Heâd only learned of Hilda Wyattâs existence three months ago, when he received a letter from her informing him that they were cousinsâher grandfather and his great-grandfather were brothers. The two sides of the family had lost touch decades ago when Buckâs great-grandfather moved to London in 1902 as a diplomat, and there was nothing Hilda wanted more than to get the family back together.
Surprised, Buck was in total agreement. He was named after his great-grandfather, who had been quite an adventurer, and one of Buckâs most prized possessions was his namesakeâs journals. Reading them as a young boy, heâd been fascinated with the stories his great-grandfather had written about growing up on the family ranch in Colorado. When he was nine, Buck had promised himself that one day he would go to the States and see the Broken Arrow Ranchâif it still existedâfirsthand.
Hilda not only confirmed that it still existed, but sheâd invited him and the girls to visit next summer. Thrilled, Buck had just begun making travel arrangements last month when he learned that Hilda had unexpectedly died when sheâd fallen and broken a hip.
Buck had only spoken to her a few timesâhe barely knew herâbut her death had still come as a shock. Besides his sisters, she had been his only living Wyatt relative, and heâd been looking forward to getting to know her better. Heâd had hundreds of questions about his American ancestors, and now those questions would never be answered.
âWhy did her attorney send you a copy of her will?â he asked with a frown. âWeâd only spoken a few times. I seriously doubt that she would have left us anything. She didnât even know of our existence until three months ago.â
âThat may be,â Clarence agreed, âbut she was a spinster and had no children. Leaving the ranch to family was important to herâwhich is why she left the ranch to the four of you.â
Buck couldnât have been more stunned if heâd told him the queen had left Buckingham Palace to him and his sisters. âYou canât be serious!â
The solicitor smiled slightly. âItâs in the will, if youâd like to read it.â
âWe have a ranch?â Priscilla exclaimed, a look of pure horror on her face. âWith cows?â
âYou donât have to say it like that,â Elizabeth chided. âYou make it sound like Hilda left us a bunch of rattlesnakes or something.â Struck by the thought, she turned to Clarence with wide blue eyes. âOh my goodness. I suppose there are snakes on a ranch, arenât there?â