The joy evaporated from her. “Dennis, I don’t think—”
“Then let me do the thinking. Now, no more arguing. Friday night Calla’s working, right? I’ll order one of Rachel’s pizzas for your dad—and I’ll give Calla a good tip for delivering it. Then you and I are going to celebrate the sale of your quilt.”
Sarah closed her eyes, allowing herself the luxury of dreaming that a future was possible for her and Dennis, even though she knew it wasn’t.
“Lindsay phoned,” Leta announced when Gage walked into the house late Thursday afternoon.
Gage managed to hide his reaction beneath a scowl. He’d been waiting to hear from Lindsay ever since the night they’d dug around that old fireplace. If there’d once been a moveable brick, there wasn’t one now.
He believed Lindsay when she said she’d seen—or heard—it move. Granted, that was about twenty years ago. He suspected there must’ve been a mechanism that triggered it someplace on or near the fireplace. He’d checked everywhere he could think, with no success.
“She wants to remind you about Friday.”
Gage didn’t know why he’d ever agreed to talk to the high-school students. Well, yes, he did know. It’d been the only way he could think of to see Lindsay again without being overt about his feelings.
“Are you going to call her back?” his mother asked as she began shucking corn, preparing the evening meal. She was humming softly to herself, and Gage knew she loved all this. He wasn’t fooled. His mother and Hassie would like nothing better than to do some matchmaking between him and Lindsay. Gage was willing, although pride demanded that he not let it show. The problem was with Lindsay.
“I don’t think there’s any reason to return the call,” he said.
His mother stopped and smiled at him. “Lindsay’s a beautiful woman,” she said dreamily.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” he muttered. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed.
“Well,” Leta said, “I thought you’d welcome an excuse to talk to her.”
“I don’t.” It was best to maintain this air of disinterest, otherwise his mother would go at the matchmaking full-tilt. She’d be pressuring him to ask Lindsay out; he didn’t want to tell her he already had and that Lindsay’s answer was no.
“You like her, don’t you?” His mother sounded worried.
Maybe he was overdoing the disinterested part. “She’s all right.”
“Hassie and I think she’s wonderful with the kids.”
He shrugged, but he shared their opinion.
“Did you know the high-schoolers are publishing the first Buffalo Valley newspaper in ten years? Lindsay drove all the way to Grand Forks yesterday afternoon to have it printed.” Leta filled a large pan with water for the corn and started mixing dough for buttermilk biscuits.
“The kids produced the entire newspaper themselves,” she went on. “Kevin wrote the piece about the Hansen Grocery being up for sale and he drew the political cartoon.”
“I’ll look forward to reading it.”
“Kevin told me this morning that Lindsay’s started a drama club. She approached Joshua McKenna about cleaning out the old theater and using it for a stage play, which I thought was an excellent idea. Don’t you?”
A play? What would she think of next? “I suppose she’s planning a production of Les Miserables.”
“Not a musical,” Leta said with a laugh. “A Christmas play. They’re going to write it themselves.”
The way Lindsay worked, she’d probably persuade all the townsfolk to help her with her project, whether they wanted to or not. Gage could see it already. He’d be spending every evening for weeks down at the theater with a bunch of other guys getting the place fixed up—and he’d do it gladly. “She, uh, certainly has ambitious plans.”
“Lindsay Snyder is just what this town needed,” his mother said firmly.
Gage could do nothing but agree.
“She’s exactly what you need, too.”
Gage didn’t want to continue down this path. “I’ll go wash for dinner.”
“Don’t you think so?”
“About Lindsay? Oh, sure, she’s a welcome addition to Buffalo Valley.” No argument there. Everyone knew what would have happened without her, what might still happen with the bitter news of low grain prices.
“Gage?”
He turned reluctantly.
“Lindsay’s been in Buffalo Valley more than two months now.”
He didn’t comment.
“Are you going to ask her out or not?”
“You mean…on a date?”
“What else? You’re thirty-five and it’s long past time you were married. I was hoping—”
Gage held up his hand. “Mother, I love you, but this isn’t a subject I’m willing to discuss with you, especially not right now.”
Her shoulders lifted as if she were about to say something else, then she stopped herself. “All right. If that’s the way you want it.”
Gage headed for the stairs as Kevin burst in. “I got a copy of the newspaper!” he said with rare excitement. He waved it in the air like a kid hawking papers on a busy street corner.
“Look here.” He carefully smoothed it out across the kitchen table, and his mother pulled out a chair and sat down. Kevin and Gage stood behind her as she opened the paper.
“Who formatted it in this newspaper style?” Gage asked, impressed by the paper’s professional appearance.
“Miss Snyder has a laptop she brought into school, and she let Stan Muller type it up.”
“He did a good job,” Gage said approvingly. “You all did.” For the next five minutes, Gage heard another round of Miss Snyder this and Miss Snyder that, until he wanted to shout at his brother to stop.
“Did you hear about Ambrose Kohn?” Kevin asked.
Gage knew the farmer, but only vaguely. He lived in the next county over and owned thirteen thousand acres of prime farmland. The Kohn family had money, and not all of it was tied up in their acreage.
“What about him?” Leta asked before Gage had the opportunity.
“He drove all the way over from Devils Lake to ask Miss Snyder to the Halloween costume party the Elks club is putting on.”
Despite his efforts to hide his reaction, Gage’s jaw tightened. Then, as casually as he could, he asked, “Did she take him up on his offer?” Still, he was sure Lindsay must’ve said no to Kohn. Since she’d already turned him down, explaining that she didn’t plan to get involved with anyone for at least a year, he doubted she’d accept an invitation from Ambrose.
“That’s the kicker. She’s actually going. Jessica and a couple of the other girls are helping her plan a costume.”
Gage couldn’t believe his ears. His mother whirled around in her chair, eyes narrowed accusingly. Without saying a word, she told him it should have been Gage taking Lindsay to that dance and not some stranger from another county.
Gage had always thought of himself as a peaceable sort of man, but right then it was all he could do to keep from plowing his fist through the wall.
Speaking to a room full of high-school students, dismantling her fireplace—oh, he was just fine for those things. But a date? No, sir. She preferred someone else. Anyone else.
“Gage?”
His mother was studying him. “What?” he snapped.
She flinched at his anger. “Are you going to let Lindsay slip through your fingers like that?”
“Enough, Mom. I—”
“You like Miss Snyder?” Kevin asked, studying Gage.
“Stay out of this,” he growled at his younger brother.
“Did you hear?” his mother cried. “Lindsay’s dating Ambrose Kohn. Aren’t you going to do something?”
“Doesn’t look like I have much choice in the matter, now does it?” he said. “Ambrose Kohn has a whole lot more to offer Miss Snyder than I do.”
“But if she marries Ambrose, she’ll move away and Buffalo Valley needs her.” Leta seemed to think Gage was the on
ly hope the community had.
“If she marries Ambrose, she marries Ambrose,” he said as though it was of little concern to him.
Kevin glanced from Gage to his mother. “I think it’s too soon to know if she’s going to marry Mr. Kohn, Mom. This is only their first date.”
October 5th
Dear Maddy,
It was so wonderful to get your letter. You’re right, homesickness has hit me hard. This isn’t like being away at college. Living in Buffalo Valley is an entirely different world. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve discovered something about myself that I didn’t know, something I’d only suspected. I love teaching school! The kids are terrific and smart and fun. The best part is they’re game for just about anything. As you know, we’ve had our ups and downs. Their idea of life in the city is what they see on MTV. Can you imagine teaching a room full of teenagers who learned everything they know about sex and intimacy from Madonna?
I’m enclosing the first edition of the Buffalo Valley High School newspaper. I’m so proud of this paper. My students spent hours putting it together: the writing, the political comments, the artwork. Everything.
Take a good look at the political cartoon. That was done by Kevin Betts. Is he good or what? I don’t think anyone knows how much his artwork means to him. When I told him I thought it was terrific, he brushed off my compliment, almost as if he was embarrassed. One day after school, I found a drawing he did of his brother standing in a wheat field and it was so damn good it brought tears to my eyes. I was blown away by his talent. Without telling him, I’ve contacted a number of art schools around the country and inquired about scholarships. Once I get the information, I’m going to approach Gage, his older brother, about having Kevin apply.
Before you ask, yes, Gage is the farmer I mentioned earlier and no, there’s nothing romantic going on between us. Absolutely nothing. I knew it was a mistake to tell you about that kiss, but the whole thing was a fluke and won’t be repeated. I’m sure he regrets the incident as much as I do. Okay, okay, we did go to dinner, but we went as friends and nothing more. Honest. I can’t deal with anything beyond that just yet.
All right, I know you’re dying to find out what’s been happening with Monte. Well, here goes. He wrote me again last week, and this time he didn’t just demand that I come back, he actually said he misses me. Oh, he did add that he thinks I made a terrible mistake. As usual, he’s hoping I’ll have a change of heart soon. Fat chance of that! He’s annoyed that I haven’t answered his other letters. Then he had the gall to tell me he won’t allow me to blackmail him into marriage. He just doesn’t get it.
I threw this letter away just like I did the other two, and you know what? It’s easier every time. I wish I could tell you I tossed it without reading it first, but my curiosity got the better of me. Maybe the next one.
Buffalo Bob sends his greetings, by the way. He’s been morose all week because of Merrily—his one and only Buffalo Gal. She left, apparently for no reason. From what Hassie told me, Merrily does this once in a while. No one knows why or where she goes. What I suspect is that she has a whole other life she escapes to when she gets bored or restless here. Which is sort of like me at the moment, I guess, only in reverse.
I’ve lived my entire life in Savannah, and although I’ve only been in North Dakota a couple of months, it feels as much like home as the South. Don’t misunderstand me, I miss everyone. Some days more than others. And everything isn’t exactly smooth sailing, either. Some people, like Hassie and Leta Betts, are wonderful and helpful, and then others like Marta Hansen seem to be waiting for me to pack my bags and disappear the way Merrily did. Buffalo Bob told me he’s been in town a couple of years now and some folks still treat him like an upstart.
Yes, I will be home for Thanksgiving. We can shop till we drop. Just remember I’m not as flush as I used to be, although the cost of living here is much cheaper than I realized. A bonus, to be sure.
Hassie has proven to be a dear friend and mentor. If I’m not busy with the kids after school, I drop by the pharmacy and visit with her. We have dinner together two or three nights a week. She’s witty and insightful, and the only one who knows about Monte. Gage guessed why I took the job, but he doesn’t know the details.
Did I mention I started a drama club? Remember Mr. Olsen when we were in high school and how much fun we had doing Our Town, The Crucible and The Music Man? I’m not ready to try one of the classics—or, heaven forbid, a musical—but I’ve had some thoughts about what we might do. Tell you later. My first problem was finding someplace to hold the play. The answer seemed obvious. Remember that closed-down theater on Main Street? I asked Joshua McKenna about it—he’s the president of the town council—and he told me it actually belongs to a family in Devils Lake. I was able to reach the son of the owner about using it, and he roped me into attending some Halloween party with him in exchange. I agreed, but I don’t like it. Laugh if you must, but I have a date with a man named Ambrose.
Oh, yes, you asked about Rachel Fischer’s pizza. Who’d believe the best pizza in the world is baked right here in Buffalo Valley? I asked if she’d sell me a jar of her pizza sauce to take home at Thanksgiving so you can taste it for yourself. Expect to be amazed. It’s that good, and you know what a pizza connoisseur I am. I’m getting to know Rachel. It feels good to have another woman close to my own age to talk to. I treasure Hassie, but…
Lindsay’s letter-writing was interrupted by a rapid pounding on her front door. Mutt and Jeff beat her there, barking madly. She hurried to open it, thinking there might be some kind of emergency. Gage Sinclair stood on her porch looking furious about something.
“Gage.” She held the door for him and gestured him inside. He marched in, glancing around as if he suspected she had company.
“What’s wrong?”
He frowned at her. “I hear you’re dating Ambrose Kohn.”
“Oh, that. You’d better let me explain.” It hadn’t occurred to her that Gage might be offended by her agreeing to attend the party with Ambrose. Now, if he’d give her a chance to tell him—
“I’m not here to listen to your reasons. They’re fairly obvious.”
“Oh?” Lindsay found that comment curious.
“He’s got a whole lot more land than I do. Money’s what makes the world go round, isn’t it?”
That was downright insulting. “You’re being ridiculous. Now sit down and—”
“I feel like standing.”
“Fine, stand then,” she said, doing her best to maintain her own composure. She crossed her arms and waited for him to continue.
“You refuse to go out with me—”
“You refuse to listen to—”
“Are you mocking me?” he barked.
“You’re behaving like a jealous lover.”
“Lover?” He laughed sarcastically. “I can’t even get you to have a beer with me. Apparently I didn’t pass your scrutiny in that department. Oh, I’m worthy enough to work three nights in a row getting your fence repaired. I’m worthy enough to talk to your class for an hour on a Friday afternoon. I’m—”
“Gage…” If he’d only let her explain! “It isn’t like that,” she began.
“The hell it isn’t.”
Lindsay slapped her hands against her sides. “You’re the most irrational man I’ve ever known!”
“Me?” he shouted. “I don’t know where I stand with you half the time. You practically threw yourself at me—”
“Threw myself at you?” The man was living in a dream world!
“What else am I to think when you kissed me like that?”
Now she was fuming. “You’re the one who kissed me!” she reminded him, so angry she could barely speak.
“And you loved it.”
“I…I…You are jealous.”
His head came up. “The hell I am. What I am, in case you haven’t noticed, is mad.”
“You don’t have a right to feel anything when it comes to me.”
br /> “Be that as it may,” he said, his gaze narrowed. “I can’t help feeling something for you.”
She stood there openmouthed, with no idea how to respond to his confession.
“I thought you were someone special,” he said, his voice low and vibrating with emotion. “Now I can see how wrong I was.”
His words shouldn’t have hurt her, but they did. “I think you should leave,” she told him, pointing at her front door. It occurred to her that this wasn’t the first time she’d ordered him out of her house.
His hesitation was momentary, and then he stalked out in much the same way he’d entered.
For good measure Lindsay slammed the door after him. The bastard! Then, because she was so furious she needed to vent her emotion, she kicked the bottom corner of the fireplace. She’d never done anything this childish in her life; she’d never been this angry in her life. Not even at Monte. Pain shot up her foot and she cried out, hopping up and down, clutching at her toes.
That was when she saw it.
Lindsay froze. The brick, the one she’d been searching for all these weeks, had effortlessly slid into view. Apparently, when she kicked the fireplace, she’d struck the mechanism that opened it.
Nine
Friday afternoon, against his better judgment, Gage showed up at the high school, just as he’d promised. He was a man of his word, and that meant he had to follow through, even when he would have preferred to stay as far away from Lindsay Snyder as humanly possible. Early on he’d made a decision to maintain his reserve when it came to the schoolteacher, and he knew others had, too. He’d wavered from that decision—distracted by his emotions—but now he’d become more determined than ever. In a year’s time she’d be gone and it was just as well for everyone.
What he’d told her the night before remained true in his mind. She wasn’t anyone special. Not anymore, not to him. She could date Ambrose Kohn with his thirteen thousand bottomland acres and his money in the bank and Gage wouldn’t give a gnat’s ass.
“Hi, Gage.” Kevin stepped out of the school and walked toward the pickup. “Miss Snyder asked if you were going to show up this afternoon and I told her you would. I told her you always keep your word.”