Free Titans by Leila Meacham Page B

through the boy stages of changing vocal cords, acne, and awkward growth spurts would not have developed such a hard edge and an inflexible outlook. A turn of events had cut his youth short when Seth Singleton died unexpectedly, and his only son at seventeen was forced to take over the Triple S, become head of the household, and assume responsibility for his two older, unmarried sisters.
    “He’s got what it takes, but he’ll have to prove it,” Samantha remembered her father saying. “It won’t be easy ordering men around two, three times his age, making decisions for a ranch the size of the Triple S. The boy will have to earn his spurs, and God almighty, he’ll have a job showing those older sisters of his who’s boss. With the death of their mother, they’ve pretty much had free range to do as they please.”
    Sloan had proved he had what it took. With the help of her father’s mentoring and the impression that Seth Singleton’s son had been born fully mature, with nary an irresponsible bone in his body, he had picked up the fallen reins of his father and held them firmly. At nearly twenty-four, deep-voiced, clear-skinned, and a graceful six foot two, Sloan was regarded as one of the most respected and influential ranchers in the state, and his sisters, Millie May and Billie June, had been left with no doubt who was in charge. Samantha’s disenchantment with their brother began when he refused to allow Billie June, the younger of his sisters, to continue seeing a man he deemed unsuitable.
    “He’s a drifter, Sam, and five years younger than Billie June,” her father had argued in defense of Sloan’s action when Samantha had voiced her objection at Sloan’s high-handedness. “The man’s got no established means of earning a livelihood.”
    “Mr. Chandler says Daniel Lane is the best assistant he’s ever had.”
    “Assistant to a smithy? What kind of recommendation is that?”
    “It recommends him as a hard worker. Claude Chandler is not an easy man to please.”
    “Daniel Lane’s got no background, Sam. No education, no breeding. He’s certainly not the kind of man Seth would have a daughter of his marry. Sloan did right to exert his authority and put an end to it.”
    Exert his authority? How was it right for a brother to have “authority” over the heart of a sister? How was it right for a man to exert any control over a woman at all? The world had entered the twentieth century. Could Sloan, so willing to embrace the latest and most modern methods of cattle raising, not see that the cultural landscape of women was changing? The Civil War had forced female members of the household to undertake the responsibilities and make decisions formerly the province of their late menfolks. Such freedom and independence, according to what Samantha read, was spilling over from the domestic scene into occupations such as law, journalism, geology, medicine, and engineering. Women’s labor unions had formed, and the suffragist movement was gaining momentum. All over the nation, the “new woman” was replacing the “ideal woman,” challenging male dominance.
    Everywhere but in Fort Worth, Texas, it seemed.
    “But Billie June loves him,” Samantha had protested.
    “Makes not a whit of difference, daughter, and you must get it out of your head that it does.”
    Yes, indeed, Anne Rutherford was the perfect mate for Sloan Singleton, Samantha would not argue. Content to bask in his light, seeking none of her own but a slice to illumine the complement of her good works to his status—having no mind of her own—Anne would make a splendid wife, mother, mistress of the house, charity organizer, hostess. Samantha saw herself as none of those things exclusively. She was well aware of her father’s hopes for her to marry a man of his ilk, someone who understood the ranching business, but he thought she failed to see that, while he’d leave the ranch in her hands, he assumed her husband—someone like Sloan