Margaret got up and retrieved her hat and coat from the hallway, then marched outside.
Matt had pulled his truck into one of the outbuildings and was bent over the side, working on the engine. He didn’t hear her approach or if he did, he was too involved in what he was doing to acknowledge her.
“Who’s the woman who keeps phoning the house asking for you?” Margaret demanded.
Matt straightened and reached for a rag to wipe the grease from his hands. “I thought you were clearing your desk.”
“I did, but the phone rang.”
“Oh.” The red in his ears wasn’t from the cold; Margaret would have wagered money on that.
“You’d better tell me.” Her eyes hardened and she refused to release his. Anger settled in the pit of her stomach. She knew what people said about her marriage. She didn’t want to look any more of a fool than she already did.
“Maybe we should wait and discuss this later,” Matt suggested.
Margaret shook her head. “We’ll talk about it now.”
He stared at her a moment, then a slow, sexy grin widened his mouth. He was obviously about to say something.
She didn’t give him a chance. “Nor am I willing to be sidetracked.”
Matt sighed. “Dammit, Margaret, there’s nothing for you to get upset about.”
“I’m not upset.” She crossed her arms, disliking this unpleasant feeling that came over her.
“She isn’t important—”
“Does she have a name?”
Matt met her gaze straight on. “It’s Sheryl, but I swear to you I haven’t seen her in weeks.”
The uncomfortable tightness in her chest lessened slightly. “Have you seen her since we’ve been married?”
“No.” He was adamant about that. His face softened and he offered her a second, tentative smile. “You’re all the woman I can handle.”
Slowly Margaret grinned. It could be a ploy to bolster her ego, and if so, it had worked. She felt better already. “I—I never knew I’d be a jealous wife.”
“You don’t need to be, I promise you that.”
She relaxed.
“Any more questions?” he asked.
“No.” She started toward the house, but a few feet away she turned back. “You don’t plan on seeing Sheryl again, do you?”
“No,” he said. “Not on purpose, anyway.”
“One more question.” She looked down, embarrassed to be asking it, but needing to be sure. “Am I really all the woman you can handle?”
He took his time answering. Meeting her eyes, he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “In all my life I’ve never had anyone believe in me the way you do. Without conditions. Without expectations. I figured I was lucky to marry you, but I had no idea how damn lucky.”
He didn’t kiss her, didn’t so much as touch her. Without another word, he returned to the truck and resumed his task.
Reassured, Margaret headed back to the house. Sadie was waiting in the kitchen. “Did he tell you about her?” the housekeeper demanded as soon as she hung up her coat and hat.
“This is between me and Matt,” Margaret told her, tired of the same old argument, resenting the housekeeper’s disapproval of her marriage.
“He’s playing you for a fool.” Sadie made a soft belligerent sound. “Mark my words, you’re going to rue the day you ever laid eyes on that man.”
Rachel and Heath were married in a private ceremony the third week of January. The reception that followed was in a posh Grand Forks hotel. Against the advice of her physician, Lily Quantrill attended both the wedding and the reception, looking frailer than Heath could remember.
The reception was well attended, with friends from Buffalo Valley as well as Grand Forks. The Sinclairs were there and Hassie Knight and the McKennas and more. Best of all, Rachel’s parents had flown in from Arizona. Heath divided his attention among his bride, his guests and his grandmother.
“I think it’s time you went back to the retirement center,” he told Lily, ready to call for the attendant. Heath didn’t want to make a fuss, but he was worried. Her health had declined rapidly in the past few weeks.
“Would you kindly allow me to make my own decisions?”
“Grandma…”
“What are you doing spending time with me, anyway? You have a bride.”
Heath glanced toward Rachel who stood in the center of a group of men, his business associates, completely winning them over. “She’ll have me the rest of my life,” he countered. But he didn’t know how much longer he’d have Lily.
“Before I go, there’s something I want to tell you,” Lily said.
Heath had to strain in order to hear her and crouched by her wheelchair so they could look eye to eye. “Then you’ll go back to the center and to bed?”
“You make me sound like a disobedient child,” she muttered, scowling at him.
It was a scowl he knew well. She’d been critical of him nearly his entire life. In his youth, Heath had watched his parents and brother kowtow to Lily Quantrill. He never had. He viewed her as cantankerous, opinionated and wonderful, but he’d always been his own person, even as a boy.
“What’s so important that you have to say it right now?” he asked.
Lily reached out and touched his cheek with an arthritic finger. “You always were my favorite.”
“Me!” The shock of it nearly bowled him over.
“You were the only one with enough grit to stand up to me.”
“That being the case, you might’ve occasionally let me win an argument.”
Lily’s face beamed. “You won your fair share.”
Heath had never thought of it that way.
“Rachel will make you a good wife.”
Heath smiled at his bride, loving her with an intensity he’d never known. “I think so, too.”
“I’m proud of you for not settling for second best.”
He’d been tempted a number of times to search out another woman, especially when it seemed Rachel wasn’t interested in him.
“You’ve made me proud in more ways than one, Heath,” she continued. “I’m confident that Buffalo County Bank will prosper with you as president.” Her eyes were steadfast on his.
“President?”
“You’re ready. You have been for a long time.”
Heath looked at Rachel. They’d decided, because of her restaurant and Mark’s school, to make their home in Buffalo Valley. His grandmother was moving him into the leadership of the bank, and the head office wasn’t in Buffalo Valley. Such a promotion would mean many long hours on the road, commuting to and from Grand Forks, not to mention the other eight branches across the state.
His frown must have said it all.
“Your grandfather and I started the business in Buffalo Valley,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “Yes, Grandma,” he murmured, “I know that. But things are different now….”
Her smile was fleeting. “You’ll figure it out. Michael and I did, all those years ago.” Her eyes were tired and slowly drifted closed. “Now I think it’s time I went home.”
Long past time, but Heath had already said so earlier. As it was, she seemed to have fallen asleep in her wheelchair.
“Heath?” Rachel joined him. He stood and slid his arm around his bride’s waist, taken aback once again by her beauty. “Lily’s tired,” he whispered. “She needs to go home.”
Rachel pressed her head to his shoulder. “Perhaps you’d better see her out.”
“You don’t mind?” He hated to leave his wife of only a few hours. She’d been more than patient already.
“Lily needs you.”
Grateful for Rachel’s understanding, Heath kissed her cheek and accompanied his grandmother to the car the home had sent for her. Not allowing the attendant to place her in the vehicle, Heath gently lifted her from the chair himself and set her inside.
As the car pulled away from the curb, it occurred to him that he was now officially th
e president of Buffalo County Bank. For nearly three years, he’d served on the board of directors, sat in on meetings, offered his recommendations. Apparently his grandmother was confident that he was ready to take over.
This was no small matter. In his hands she’d placed fifty years of banking history and the future of one of the largest financial institutions in the state. Along with faith, love and trust, she’d presented him with a huge personal dilemma.
“You’re a crafty little devil,” he whispered aloud. “Your favorite relative, am I?” Then the laughter came, bubbling up inside him. He was her only relative. And he doubted very much that he’d always been her favorite, as she’d claimed. Still, that made no difference. He adored Lily Quantrill as much as he ever had—more—and was thankful for the influence she’d had on his life.
Rachel was waiting for him when Heath returned to the reception. “Is everything all right?” she asked.
Heath nodded. “Just fine,” he said, and unable to resist, he kissed her.
“How much longer do you think we’re going to have Lily?” Rachel asked.
Heath shrugged; he’d been wondering the same thing all evening.
The question was answered a week later when Lily Quantrill died quietly in her sleep.
Eight
It soon became apparent to Matt that Sheryl had no intention of staying out of his life. Sadie took considerable delight in letting him know his “girlfriend” continued to phone the house. Her pinched lips suggested it was all she could do to keep her opinions to herself.
“If she calls again, hang up on her,” Matt instructed.
“Very well,” Sadie returned flippantly. Everything the housekeeper said and did spoke of her disapproval. If it was up to him, he’d fire the woman, but she’d been with the family for years, and Margaret felt a strong loyalty toward her.
“I think you should know she isn’t going to give up easily,” Sadie told him. This was the day after his confrontation with Margaret, and Matt was particularly sensitive to the subject of Sheryl—and sick of it. “She wanted me to tell you that if you didn’t see her soon, you’d regret it,” the housekeeper intoned with far too much pleasure.
Great. It’d come down to threats, had it? Matt didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. Margaret wasn’t a woman who’d casually accept a dalliance on his part. Not that he had any desire to cheat on his wife.
In fact, this entire marriage had turned out to be a shock. He’d respected and liked Margaret when he’d married her, but he hadn’t really known her. He’d discovered since that every day with her was an adventure. The best kind of adventure. Not only did she know cattle and ranching, but she was one hell of a worker. She put in twelve-hour days without complaint, working as hard and long as he did. There was something about having a partner, an equal partner, that lightened the load and allowed him to find enjoyment in ordinary things. At night Margaret proved she was one hell of a woman, too. She’d been a virgin when they got married, but her appetite for the physical side of marriage was strong and inventive.
When he married Margaret Clemens, Matt hadn’t known what he was getting. He hadn’t expected to acquire a knowledgeable and intelligent partner any more than he’d anticipated finding a best friend. That was what Margaret had become. His wife, his partner and his best friend.
The first week of February, Sadie fended off two more calls from Sheryl. Matt knew the housekeeper had reached the end of her limited tolerance when she pulled him aside to suggest he “take care” of the situation. For once Matt found himself agreeing with the woman. Enough was enough. He decided to talk to Sheryl himself and put a stop to her harassment.
Late the following afternoon, when Margaret went over to visit Maddy McKenna, Matt hopped in the pickup and headed into Devils Lake. This was better done in person; he’d settle matters with Sheryl and when he was finished, there’d be no room for doubt. Whatever had once been between them was long over. He was married now and he wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone else.
He would never have believed Sheryl was capable of this. The closer he got to Devils Lake, the angrier he became.
Pulling into the parking lot at the truck stop, he saw that the place was crowded. Five o’clock on a Friday—he should have known it would be. Although the bar and grill catered to truckers, it was a favorite watering hole. The locals often came by for a reasonably priced dinner and a couple of beers to wash it down.
The bar was filled with cigarette smoke so thick it stung his eyes. He thought he saw Sheryl by the bar and he edged past a burly cowhand to get there.
“Matt!”
He whirled around to see Sheryl’s friend, although for the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name.
He shouldered his way over to the waitress, who wore a cowgirl outfit with a too-short skirt and a fringed vest. “Sheryl’s going to be so happy to see you,” she said as Matt reached her. “Stay here and I’ll find her for you.”
He was close to the bar, and would have stepped up to it and ordered a beer if there’d been room. On second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, since he didn’t intend to stay any longer than necessary.
“Matt.” Before he had time to respond, Sheryl hurled herself into his arms. “I knew you’d come. I told Lee Ann you’d come by and I was right.” Her heavily made-up face was bright with happiness.
“We need to talk,” Matt said, tugging her arms free from his neck. He surveyed the room and realized it would be impossible to hold a private conversation.
Sheryl seemed to realize the same thing. “Follow me,” she said, and when he hesitated, she reached for his hand, linking their fingers. She led him behind the bar, pausing long enough to lean forward and whisper something to the bartender. The other man glanced at Matt, frowned, then reluctantly nodded.
“Sam said we could talk in his office,” Sheryl said, dragging Matt through the kitchen.
He walked past two chefs and the stove, obediently following Sheryl. Still, he argued with himself every step of the way. What he had to tell her would only take a minute. He’d rehearsed his statement on the drive in: They’d shared a short-term relationship that was mutually enjoyable while it lasted, but it was over. It’d been over well before he married Margaret, he’d tell Sheryl, and he’d explain that he planned to honor his marriage vows.
Sheryl turned to smile at him. She opened the office door and laughing, yanked him inside, closing the door after him. The room was pitch-dark. His back was against the wall, and before Matt had a chance to find his bearings, Sheryl’s arms were around him.
“Oh, Matt,” she cried. “I’ve missed you so damn much.” She moved against him, seducing him with her body, kissing him while her breasts massaged his chest.
“Sheryl…”
He wasn’t allowed to finish. Her mouth was all over his, open, moist, insistent. He jerked his head back and forth, but all that did was encourage her. Backed against the wall, he couldn’t easily pull away.
“Tell me you’ve missed me. I need to hear it,” she begged.
“Sheryl, stop!”
“No,” she whimpered, “I need you so much.” Sheryl’s hands were busy in the dark, tugging his shirt free of his waist. Then she was rubbing her palms up his bare chest.
“Stop!” he shouted, gripping her hard by the shoulders, finally disengaging her with a shove.
Breathing hard, Sheryl went still.
“I don’t want to do this,” he told her, struggling to hold back his irritation.
“I know this isn’t the ideal place to make love, but I’m so hungry for you, I—”
“I’m not making love to you, Sheryl. I’m married now.”
He heard her sigh. “Don’t I know it. But that doesn’t have to change anything. Not with you and me. We have an understanding.”
“No, we don’t.”
“You don’t mean that,” she insisted, sounding close to tears.
By this time, Matt’s eyes had adjus
ted to the dark, but he still had trouble making out details. He felt behind him for a light switch. Nothing.
“You want me,” Sheryl whispered. “Your body tells me you do.” As if to prove her point, she started to unbuckle his belt. He stopped her.
“Like I said, it’s over. Don’t call me again.”
“Oh, am I causing problems between you and Margaret?” she asked in a falsely sweet voice.
“The only person you’re causing problems with is the housekeeper.”
Sheryl obviously thought that was a joke and laughed softly. “Okay, okay, but I had to see you.”
“No, you didn’t. And like I said, I don’t want you phoning the Triple C again.”
“It got you here, didn’t it?”
Matt groaned, understanding her game. She intended to use those phone calls to blackmail him. Either he went along with her little scheme or she’d continue making trouble for him.
“Come on, Matt, give me what I want.” Her arms began to slither around his neck.
He closed his hands on her wrists and wrenched himself free before she could kiss him again. As it was, he feared the heavy scent of her perfume would cling to him. He didn’t want to think how Margaret would react if she happened to catch a whiff of that. His sole purpose in being here was to get Sheryl out of their lives, not to create more problems.
“I mean it,” he growled. “Don’t call me again.”
“You can’t be serious.” Her voice held a sharp edge.
Good! Maybe she’d finally believe him. “I’m not the right man for you.”
“The hell you aren’t,” she snapped. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our plan.”
“Plan? We didn’t have any plan.”
“You were going to marry Margaret, and then divorce her in a year and marry me.”
Matt shook his head firmly. That he’d even listened to anything so outrageous nauseated him.
“You married her, and there’s no way in hell you’ll ever convince me you did it for love.”
Always Dakota Page 13