Dakota Home

by Debbie Macomber

  He couldn’t know that her hands were tied. She had nothing to offer him, not even herself. At twenty-nine, he wanted a wife and children. She couldn’t marry him, and as for children—her heart clenched as she considered having a baby with Dennis. At one time she’d longed for more, but it was too late. Surely Dennis could see what a rotten job she’d done with Calla. Her daughter was rebellious, belligerent, headstrong—and getting worse every day. Sarah had already failed once as a mother and wasn’t eager to repeat her mistakes.

  Calla’s attitude had deteriorated further since a letter had arrived from her father. She’d refused to allow Sarah to read it. Calla carried it with her like some precious talisman, far too valuable to leave at home where her mother’s prying eyes might fall upon it.

  Sarah cringed every time she thought about that letter. She could only imagine what Willie had written about her. No doubt he’d fed Calla more lies. If the girl’s attitude was anything to go by, Willie had probably suggested there was hope for him and Sarah. What a crock that was. Sarah would never take Willie back and should, in fact, have left him a lot sooner than she had. The final blow had come when he’d taken the small amount of money she’d managed to save and used it to pay for another woman’s abortion. Another woman he’d impregnated. Willie Stern didn’t understand the concept of fidelity. She’d been a naive idiot to believe that marriage would change him or that her love and devotion to him would make a difference. Talk about a reality check!

  His letter to Calla had undoubtedly cast Sarah as the bad wife, the bad mother, the enemy. In the three days since Calla had received Willie’s letter, she hadn’t said a civil word to Sarah.

  The bell over the door chimed, announcing a customer. Sarah had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed anyone even walking by. Whirling around she found it was her father.

  “Dad,” she said, shocked to see him.

  “Thought I’d stop by on my way home to see if you wanted me to pick up anything for Thanksgiving dinner,” he said. But his look said something else entirely. He was worried about her, worried about Jeb. Unfortunately their father had never been comfortable with emotions; offering help with their Thanksgiving meal was his way of showing he cared.

  “I’ve taken care of everything,” she told him, loving him. He didn’t see himself as a good father, but Joshua McKenna was a decent, hardworking man. A widower who’d never completely recovered from his grief; a loving father who’d do anything for his family. He was important to the community, too. As president of the town council, he’d held them together during the worst of the economic crisis.

  “Is Jeb coming for dinner?” Joshua asked.

  Sarah shook her head and made an excuse for her brother. “It’s a busy time for him.”

  “Hogwash. Don’t give me that. The plain and simple truth is Jeb doesn’t want to come.”

  “He told me he’d be here for Christmas.”

  That seemed to appease Joshua. He nodded. “What about Dennis? Will he be joining us?”

  She shook her head again, but didn’t explain that she hadn’t invited him.

  “Why not?”

  “He’s…got other plans.”

  Joshua’s frown grew darker but if he had any questions he didn’t ask them. Sarah was grateful.

  “You might want to invite Hassie,” he said next, surprising her.

  Sarah had already thought of that. “She’s spending the day with Lindsay and Gage.”

  Joshua rubbed his hand along the side of his face. “I should’ve guessed.” He started out the door, then stopped himself. “You mean it’ll be just the three of us?”

  Sarah nodded, knowing they’d be lucky if Calla deigned to join them. “I’m…I seem to be having a bit of trouble with Calla,” she admitted.

  He nodded. “You were a handful yourself at her age.”

  Sarah remembered, but she couldn’t believe her behavior had been as bad as Calla’s. “I was hoping you had some advice for me. Dad, I don’t know what I’m going to do with her. Sometimes I think she hates me….” Her voice trembled as she struggled to hide the discouragement and pain. She’d never thought her relationship with her daughter would disintegrate to this sad point.

  Her father looked away, silently telling her he had nothing to suggest. “I don’t know what to say, Sarah. Just love her.” He glanced out the window toward the Cenex station and sighed. “Are you sure Dennis can’t join us?”

  Now it was her turn to look away. “I’ll find out,” she promised.

  On his way out the door, Joshua hesitated, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Sarah couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed her and was warmed by this rare show of affection. He might not have advice, but he did love her.

  Before her father had brought up the question of inviting Dennis to share Thanksgiving with them, Sarah had been content to leave matters as they were. Now she realized how important it was that she and Dennis spend the day together. While she still had the courage to ask, she closed her shop and walked the short distance between their two businesses.

  Dennis was busy working on an old Dodge sedan when she entered his garage. In addition to delivering fuel to the outlying farms and ranches, he worked as a mechanic.

  “Be with you in a minute,” he called out from beneath the car.

  “It’s me,” she told him. “There’s no rush.”

  She heard the clang of something hitting the floor as if he’d dropped a wrench. Almost immediately he rolled out from beneath the vehicle and stood with a gracefulness she envied.

  Taking a rag from his hip pocket, he watched her in silence. She had trouble reading his expression. Disbelief? Scorn? Longing? She couldn’t tell.

  “I…I came to ask about Thanksgiving,” she said, her voice faltering.

  “It’s a little late, don’t you think?” he muttered, continuing to clean the grease off his hands. “Thanksgiving’s two days away.”

  “I…know.” She was well aware that she’d been unfair to him. “Dad and I would welcome your company,” she added.

  “I’ve already agreed to spend the day with my parents,” Dennis informed her, his words stiff.

  She nodded, unable to hide her disappointment. “How are they?” she asked, wanting to make conversation, using any excuse she could find to linger, to savor these moments with him.

  “They’re both fine,” he told her. “And eager for me to settle down and start a family.”

  That pointed reminder was all she needed. As the situation stood right now, she could do neither. “I’m sorry you won’t be able to join us,” she whispered, angry with herself for being weak, for making things worse instead of better. “I need to get back to work.”

  “I should, too.” But neither moved.

  Dennis stared at her, his eyes pleading with hers to marry him, to give him what he wanted most. She held his look for as long as she could until the pain became too much to bear, and then she tore her gaze away.

  “Maybe it’s time you started dating someone else,” she said, amazed at her ability to actually get the words out.

  He let the suggestion hang between them. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said after a moment. He tucked the rag in his hip pocket and returned to whatever he was doing beneath the old Dodge.

  Thanksgiving morning, Merrily woke early. Stealing out of bed, she crept down the stairs, suitcase in hand. At the bottom of the steps, she paused and looked up toward the room where Bob still slept. She’d only been back a few days, but already she knew she had to leave. Yet every time she walked away, she found it more difficult.

  Falling in love was the last thing she could afford right now. She shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have left California, but she’d heard about the blizzard and worried about Bob. She’d planned to stay just long enough to make sure he didn’t need her. He didn’t, at least not in the ways she’d expected. What had struck her this visit, more intensely than at any other time in their strange three-year
relationship, was how much she needed him.

  Until she met Bob, she’d drifted from one part of the country to another, with no real reason to settle anywhere. With no family to root her, and friends who lasted only as long as the good times.

  Meeting Bob had been a fluke, an accident of fate. Down on her luck and practically penniless, she’d driven into town, needing money for gas. Buffalo Valley didn’t look promising in the job department, but she’d had no other choice. Her gauge was on E and it was either find work or get arrested. She’d walked into 3 OF A KIND, willing to wait tables, wash dishes, anything to pay for enough gas to take her farther down the road.

  Her life had changed from that point forward. The first time she’d left Bob, she hadn’t intended to return. He was a big man, with a heart to match. What she couldn’t quite get over was how much he cared about her. Someone needed to tell him she’d been around the block more than once—and a long block it was, too. She didn’t deserve his devotion; it was that simple. So she’d left….

  But try as she might, Merrily couldn’t forget Buffalo Bob. A few months later, she’d returned, just to see if he was still around. Lo and behold 3 OF A KIND remained open and her Buffalo Man was so happy to see her, he hired her on the spot. She stayed longer that time, but took off a few weeks later, figuring that eventually Bob would grow weary of her company. That was what had happened repeatedly in the past. Men got tired of her and found a younger, prettier woman with more to offer.

  Buffalo Bob hadn’t shown any signs of that, but she’d convinced herself he would. If not this week, then the next. She’d packed up her things and taken off while she still could, with her heart intact, money in her pocket and a place to go. After a few months in the cold, dark North Dakota winter, sunny California had sounded good.

  Again, within a few days, she’d found herself wishing she was back with her Buffalo Man. She’d stayed away a few weeks and then she’d returned. Bob gave Merrily her old room, but she spent most of her nights with him. Every time she came back, he’d been delighted to see her; it was something she could count on. Her job was always waiting for her, too, and whenever she was away, she found herself thinking about Bob and the people in Buffalo Valley. The town was beginning to feel like home. She’d never had a real home, not in all her life.

  During the past three years, she’d gotten to know the people in Buffalo Valley. For the most part, they were friendly and neighborly, just the way she’d always thought people should be. What she appreciated most was that they seemed to accept her as she was.

  Another thing. She didn’t have to worry about any of the customers making passes at her—a bonus of working for Buffalo Bob. The men in the community had old-fashioned values and respected the fact that she was Bob’s woman. And if any stranger showed too much of an interest in her—well, Bob was a big man.

  Dammit, he loved her! She thought of the time the big refrigerator had broken down and Bob had a huge repair bill. He never discussed money worries, but she knew he was concerned about meeting expenses. Because she loved him, she’d offered to give up her wages. He’d misunderstood and assumed she’d come to him for a loan. Even when he had so little himself, he’d said he would let her have as much as he could.

  No one had ever been willing to do that for her. Not without wanting a down payment first, like her body…or her soul. Such unconditional love had flustered her. She’d raced to her room, pretending to be furious when in reality it was his generosity that had caused her tears.

  She’d run shortly thereafter, all the way back to California. She had ties there now. Someone who needed her more than Bob. Someone who depended on her.

  It was cruel to return to Buffalo Valley for only a few days, but she didn’t have any choice. She’d stayed longer than she should have already; she needed to get back.

  Bob never locked his office. The hinges creaked as she slowly opened the door. She knew the cash box was in his desk and the key was taped to the bottom of the drawer. She slid her hand beneath, feeling for the key.

  As soon as she found it, she unfastened the lock and opened the box. When she lifted the lid, she was amazed to find the box nearly full of cash. There must be several hundred dollars here, perhaps as much as a thousand. It was more cash than she’d seen in a very long time.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she reached for a stack of twenties and counted. She took five twenties and one ten-dollar bill, figuring that was what he owed her for the few days she’d worked serving tables.

  “Take all you want, Merrily.”

  His voice startled her, and she nearly upset the entire box.

  “I wasn’t stealing your money if that’s what you think,” she snapped, her defenses kicking in.

  “I didn’t think you were.” His voice was cold and hard.

  “I took a hundred and ten dollars.” She splayed out the money for his inspection, wanting him to know she wasn’t cheating him. “My pay for—”

  “I already said I believed you.”

  Merrily wished to hell she hadn’t lingered that last hour, watching Bob, touching him, silently saying her goodbyes.

  “You’re leaving again?”

  She nodded; she couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “That’s what I thought.” He turned and walked out of the room.

  Merrily hastily returned the money box and retaped the key to the bottom of the drawer. She found Bob in the kitchen, sitting at the table, holding a mug of steaming coffee, his gaze fixed on the far wall. He didn’t look at her.

  “Go on,” he said. “Go.”

  “I planned on writing you a note.”

  He slammed his fist down, rattling the table. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “I—”

  “Get the hell out,” he shouted.

  “Bob…”

  “Buffalo Bob to you,” he insisted, his voice weighted with sarcasm. “Or better, Mr. Carr.”

  “I have to leave,” she told him, wishing she could tell him the truth.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Merrily knew she should walk out the door and be done with it. Always in the past, she’d slipped away without a word, preferring to avoid confrontations. Verbal goodbyes made everything harder.

  “I’ll be back,” she promised.

  “Yeah, that’s generally the pattern.”

  His eyes were so cold she barely recognized him. This was a side of Bob she’d never seen and it frightened her. He was angry and hurt and did nothing to control his feelings.

  “Can I kiss you goodbye?” she asked, hating to part like this.

  “No,” he responded without hesitation.

  “All right,” she whispered.

  “Get out,” he said, and motioned with his head toward the door.

  She wanted to argue with him, but didn’t know what to say. Grabbing her suitcase, she walked toward the back door. When she reached it, she paused and looked over her shoulder.

  “It’d be best all around if you stayed away this time,” Buffalo Bob told her.

  His words settled over her heart like an icy Dakota sleet. “You don’t mean that.”

  “The hell I don’t,” he growled. “I don’t need a woman who’s constantly in and out of my life. Either you stay or you go, but whatever you decide, that’s it.”

  Merrily couldn’t believe Bob would issue such an impossible ultimatum. “I…I can’t stay.”

  “Then get the hell out and don’t come back.”

  “Bob…”

  “Go!” he shouted. He stood, nearly toppling his chair with the urgency of his movement. Pointing at the door, he stepped toward her, towering above her. “I’m telling you for the last time. Get the hell out of my life, and don’t come back. Understand?”

  Merrily nodded; she blinked away tears. As she opened the door, a gust of wet, cold wind slammed into her; she flinched as the icy air hit her face.

  The door banged shut and she heard the sound of the lock sliding into place. Buffalo Bob had ba
rred her from 3 OF A KIND and from his life in one fell swoop.

  Lindsay Sinclair didn’t think she’d ever looked forward to any Thanksgiving more than this one, her first as Gage’s wife. Last year at this time, Gage had driven her into Grand Forks to catch her flight home. They were barely on speaking terms back then. Still, he’d kissed her before she boarded the plane. She’d felt that kiss to the very marrow of her bones. He’d asked her to come back to Buffalo Valley, and it was all Lindsay could think about while she was with her family in Savannah.

  This year they were married. For their first Thanksgiving together, they’d invited Gage’s mother, Leta, to dinner and Hassie Knight, who owned the pharmacy, and of course, Maddy. In addition, Lindsay and Gage’s aunt Angela and her husband were driving over from Bismarck.

  Angela was the illegitimate child of Lindsay’s grandmother and Gage’s grandfather—the result of a love affair before their separate marriages. Angela was their “love child,” to use an old-fashioned expression Lindsay preferred. Lindsay’s desire to search for her—a woman given up for adoption more than fifty years before—had caused a major disagreement between her and Gage. Following her heart, Lindsay had searched, anyway, and she’d found Angela. Over the past months they’d all met several times and stayed in regular communication. After her initial shock, Angela had been hungry to learn what she could about her birth parents and meet the family she’d never known.

  Kevin, Gage’s younger brother, had flown in from Chicago the night before and his arrival was a surprise to all of them. Earlier in the year, Kevin had been awarded a scholarship to the school of the Art Institute of Chicago; the scholarship covered tuition and living expenses, but he had a limited allotment for travel. Kevin was originally scheduled to fly home for the Christmas holidays, but Lindsay and Gage would have only a short time with him then, since they’d be visiting her family in Georgia. Kevin had managed to purchase an airline ticket on fairly short notice, and Gage had picked him up in Grand Forks.