“She doesn’t talk about him, does she?”
“It’s been nearly thirty years and it’s still painful for her.”
Heath nodded but didn’t touch the soda when she placed it on the counter. “Besides my grandmother, the only person I’ve talked to about Max is you.”
“If it wasn’t for Hassie, I don’t know what I would have done that first year after Ken died. Without her, I think I probably would’ve moved to Arizona with my parents. It does help to have someone listen.”
“I thank you for that,” Heath told her. “I was so mad at Max for dying and yet it makes perfect sense that he’d swerve to avoid hitting a deer. That’s just the type of person Max was.”
The burning tears that filled her eyes were as unexpected as they were unwelcome. She knew his brother had been killed on the highway, but hadn’t heard any of the details. She blinked in an effort to hold back her emotion, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of Heath.
He reached across the counter and stroked the side of her face. His touch was gentle, so gentle. Rachel closed her eyes and immediately the tears began to fall.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t be talking like this now.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Usually I don’t react like this. I’m sorry, I…” She didn’t bother to finish what she’d been about to say.
Walking away from the counter, she grabbed a box of tissues from the shelf and opened it. She turned to discover Heath directly behind her.
“I shouldn’t have brought up Max,” he said, staring down at her. “Especially since it reminds you of Ken.”
“No…no, it isn’t that, really,” she said, a little breathless. He was close, closer than he’d ever been before, and her heart began to race.
He slid his arms around her. Rachel rested her hands on his chest and was amazed to discover that his heart was beating as fast as hers. Slowly—feeling confused and uncertain—she raised her eyes to his. Rachel knew she should pull away, end the embrace; at the same time, she hoped he’d kiss her.
It seemed that, along with all his other talents, Heath Quantrill was a mind reader. After the slightest hesitation, he lowered his mouth to hers.
At the approach of his lips, Rachel had the distinct feeling that if she allowed this to happen, if Heath actually kissed her, everything between them would change. Still, she didn’t stop him. She hadn’t dated since Ken’s death. The thought of another relationship hadn’t even occurred to her. And now…there was Heath.
Parting her lips, she stood on the tips of her toes, straining toward him. The kiss was tender, and as she’d known it would be, devastating.
He released her, and his look told her he was as confused and unsure as she was.
“I…I…”
He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he kissed her again, and she responded with a greed that left her weak—and astonished. Her arms wound their way around his neck and she leaned against him. She felt his hands in her hair, his fingers tangling in its length.
When she dared to meet his eyes, she found them wide and bewildered.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered.
“I doubt it,” he returned with a short, abrupt laugh. “Because if you did your face would be beet-red.”
Rachel’s cheeks instantly filled with heat. “I—I’m sure you didn’t expect this to happen.”
“I didn’t plan to kiss you when I came in here, if that’s what you mean, but I’m not sorry about it.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you?”
She had trouble meeting his gaze, but told him with a small shake of her head that she wasn’t.
Hugging her again, he sighed. “Good. This is a surprise, but a pleasant one. I’m thirty-one and long past the age of pretending. Let’s always be honest with each other, Rachel.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice still quavering from the effects of their kiss.
“This is a beginning for us.”
She nodded, uncertain what he meant, but not needing clarification. Not then, not when his arms were warm and secure around her. If Ken’s death had taught her anything, it was that the future held no guarantees.
As soon as Leta Betts heard that Hassie Knight had come down with the flu, she took a chicken from the freezer and made a big pot of her chicken noodle soup. Leta often worried about Hassie, who was well into her seventies. Over the last year, she’d noticed that Hassie’s energy seemed to be slipping, and that concerned her. The soup was an excuse to visit her friend.
Gage was busy tinkering with some farm equipment when she found him. “Hassie’s got a bad case of the flu,” she explained.
“She’s tough. You don’t need to worry about Hassie,” Gage said, glancing up from the tractor. His hands were smudged with grease. His task, whatever it was, seemed to be frustrating him.
“I was hoping you could drive me into town?” she asked.
Gage straightened and wiped the grease from his hands on a mechanic’s pink rag. “Kevin can’t do it?”
“He’s busy at the school.”
She noticed Gage’s frown at her mention of school and knew he was thinking about Lindsay Snyder again. He’d been doing that a lot. Gage might be able to fool other people and even himself, but she knew him far too well. He was interested in Lindsay Snyder, and whatever had happened between them had thrown him for a loop.
“I won’t be finished here for a couple of hours,” he finally said.
“I’ll be ready when you are.”
Two hours later, Gage came into the house, took a quick shower, then drove the car around. During the thirty-mile drive into town, Leta had plenty of time to think, not that it did her much good. She wished she knew of some way to help Gage resolve his feelings about Lindsay, but suspected any interference on her part wouldn’t be welcome.
That matter was still on her mind when she arrived at Hassie’s. Her friend, dressed in pajamas and robe, looked delighted to receive company. She opened the door and welcomed her inside.
“I’m telling you, Leta, I wasn’t cut out for a life of leisure.” A half-empty box of tissues and a glass of orange juice stood on the coffee table.
“I brought you some of my homemade chicken noodle soup.” She took the quart jar out of the basket and carried it to the kitchen. Then she returned to the living room and settled herself in the chair across from Hassie. Reaching for her knitting—an afghan for Lindsay—Leta began the comforting and familiar motions.
Hassie sat on the sofa and leaned against a pillow, her feet propped on the ottoman. “I’ve had three days to do nothing but think—trust me, daytime television just isn’t what it used to be.”
Leta lowered her knitting and eyed her friend. “Financial worries?”
Hassie shook her head. “Nothing that stressful. I was wondering about Lindsay and Gage. What’s happened to those two, anyway?”
Leta snorted. “I wish I knew.” She paused. “I’ve been thinking about them, too. I think he likes her….”
“Well, I can tell you she’s interested in him.”
Leta nodded. “I hope so.”
There was silence for a while, punctuated only by the chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
“She’s wonderful with the teens,” Leta said, yanking on her skein of yarn. Kevin had never enjoyed school more. Lindsay kept all the kids busy with all kinds of projects. Leta didn’t worry as much about her son and Jessica, since both of them were so involved in the newspaper and now the Christmas play.
“I wonder if we can persuade Lindsay to stay on after this year,” Hassie murmured. “She’s a good teacher.” There was a pause. “So was Eloise.”
“But she was old and tired.”
Hassie nodded. “Like us,” she muttered.
That comment wasn’t typical of her friend, and Leta frowned. Hassie’s optimism was usually invincible; she must really be feeling poorly.
“You don’t know what happened between Lindsay and Gage?” Leta asked, m
ore to distract her.
“No,” Hassie said. “I wish to hell I did. Have you thought about asking him?”
“No, I don’t dare.”
“Well.” Hassie gave a deep sigh. “They obviously had some sort of disagreement.”
“Because of her date with Ambrose Kohn, I think.”
“Gage knows it was a set-up, right? That the only reason Lindsay agreed to attend the Elks Halloween party with him was so she could use the theater?”
“I told him, or tried to, but he wasn’t in the best of moods at the time.” As Leta remembered it, Gage had nearly bitten her head off.
“I suspect Lindsay never explained.”
“Oh, she probably tried, but knowing my son, he didn’t give her the chance.”
“Men!” Hassie made a tsking sound. “And now we have another worry.”
“What?” Leta murmured, almost afraid to ask.
“Lindsay’s flying home for Thanksgiving.”
“She’s coming back, isn’t she?”
Hassie nodded. “It would surprise me if she didn’t.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Well…” Hassie paused, as if weighing her words. “Lindsay accepted the job here in Buffalo Valley for a specific reason. She didn’t say I couldn’t tell other people, but I know she hasn’t mentioned it to anyone else.”
“And you don’t want to betray her confidence,” Leta finished for her.
“You see my dilemma?”
“I wouldn’t want you to come right out and tell me.” Leta did, of course, but couldn’t ask that of her friend.
A slow smile appeared on the older woman’s lips. “Perhaps you could guess.”
“I take it there’s a man involved?”
“Very much so.”
“He was married, and when she learned he had a wife she instantly broke off the relationship. Then she moved here so he’d have no way of finding her?”
Hassie shook her head.
“He was gay?”
“No.”
“Diseased?”
Hassie rolled her eyes. “No.”
“Mentally deranged.” Leta had it. “She caught him wearing women’s underwear.”
“Oh, Leta! For the love of heaven, no.”
“Heaven,” she repeated slowly, certain that her friend was giving her a clue. “He was a priest.”
Hassie slumped back in her chair. “Not even close.”
Setting her knitting aside, Leta stood up and started pacing. She’d already covered the more obvious reasons. Then it dawned on her, and she wondered why it’d taken her so long to guess the truth. “Lindsay’s pregnant, isn’t she? The baby’s father refused to marry her.”
Hassie’s eyes looked as if they were about to fall out of her head. “Part of that’s true.”
“Part. Lindsay’s pregnant.” Gage must know, too. That explained his attitude. My goodness, it wasn’t as if Lindsay was going to be able to hide her secret much longer.
“No!” Hassie cried, clearly exasperated.
“Then what?” Leta had lost her patience, as well.
“The second part of what you said.”
Leta frowned, not remembering.
“She was pregnant and the man…”
“The man…?”
“Refused…”
Leta remembered. “Refused to marry her!”
“Yes.” Hassie’s expression implied that Leta should have come up with the answer a lot faster than she had.
“She wants to get married?” This was better than she’d dared hope. “She wants a husband—but that’s wonderful, just wonderful!” Leta’s heart pounded with excitement.
“She loves him,” Hassie murmured, frowning.
“Gage?” Things were looking brighter by the minute.
“No, the man in Savannah. He says he loves her, too, but he’s gun-shy.”
“He had his chance,” Leta insisted sternly.
Hassie laughed out loud. “You’re right, he did. I’d be very happy if Lindsay decided to settle down in Buffalo Valley.”
“So would I,” Leta said and reclaimed her chair. She picked up her knitting, her needles flying, keeping pace with her thoughts. “You say Lindsay’s going home for Thanksgiving?”
Hassie nodded. “She’ll be seeing this other guy.”
“She’ll need a ride to the airport, won’t she?” Leta said casually, tugging on the yarn.
“Yes…”
“I think I know just the person to drive her.”
It took Hassie a moment to catch her drift, but once she had, a slow smile spread across her face. “You’re a clever woman, Leta Betts.”
Leta grinned, too. “So it’s been said.”
“You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Calla Stern followed Lindsay out to her living room, hauling Lindsay’s carry-on bag. She’d come for detailed dog-watching instructions. It was Wednesday afternoon, and Lindsay was catching the red-eye out of Grand Forks, and then a connecting flight in Minneapolis, arriving in Savannah early Thanksgiving morning. Not only was the plane ticket more affordable this way, it worked best with her teaching schedule.
“I’ll be back,” Lindsay promised as she set the large bag down next to the front door. As if she’d abandon her dogs! Kevin and Leta Betts had volunteered to drive her into Grand Forks, a ninety-minute ride. Leta said she had some last-minute shopping for Thanksgiving dinner and Kevin, bless his heart, had volunteered to drive.
“We still have the play, you know,” Calla reminded her.
“Calla, I’m coming back.”
“Sometimes people say things and then change their minds.”
Lindsay was certain this was a painful lesson the girl had learned from her father. “That’s true,” she agreed, “but I’m not going to change my mind.”
Lindsay could see from the look on the girl’s face that she still didn’t believe her. “All right, this might help. See?” She held out a small silver coin suspended from a delicate chain. It was her favorite necklace and one she wore almost every day. “My father gave this to me when I graduated from high school.”
“It was treasure found on a sunken ship,” Calla said. “Isn’t that the coin you showed us the day Mr. Quantrill came to talk to the class?”
“It is.” Lindsay was pleased that Calla remembered. “The Atocha sank off the Florida Keys in 1622 and was discovered in 1975. This piece of silver is more than three hundred years old.” She slipped off the necklace and placed it in Calla’s palm. “You can keep this safe for me until I get back.”
“You’re letting me baby-sit your necklace and your dogs?”
“I am,” Lindsay said, smiling at the term.
Calla nodded, her eyes huge. “You’ll be back.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you all afternoon?”
Lindsay was still feeling good an hour later as she waited for Leta and Kevin. She wondered about Gage. She hadn’t seen him in weeks—not since that Friday when he’d driven into town and gone to Buffalo Bob’s.
A light snow had started shortly after Calla left, and Lindsay stood at the window looking out. The snow, falling steadily now, looked misty in the headlights as a vehicle turned onto her street. Because of the weather and the unfamiliar roads to the airport, Lindsay was particularly grateful for Leta’s offer of a ride. Warm and cozy inside her home, she found the pristine landscape beautiful. It wasn’t the first snowfall of the season and plenty of people had gone out of their way to warn her that it wouldn’t be the last. Sarah Stern, for one. Lindsay wished Calla’s mother could be a friend, but she’d subtly rejected every gesture Lindsay had made toward friendship. Hassie said Sarah was a hard person to get to know, fiercely protective of her family, especially her brother. She didn’t make room in her life for many friends.
The headlights slowed as they neared her house. A large, dark car pulled over and parked at the curb. Lindsay reached for her coat and opened the door, ready to leave. The crisp wind stung her fa
ce and brought tears to her eyes.
Taking the largest of her bags, she lowered her head until she heard the crunch of footsteps approaching the house. When she glanced up, she discovered it wasn’t Kevin who’d come, but his brother.
“Gage?” Lindsay blinked in surprise.
“Do you have a problem with me driving you into Grand Forks?” he asked stiffly.
“No…no, it’s just that I was expecting Kevin.”
“He didn’t come and neither did my mother.” The tautness was back in his voice.
“That’s fine….”
He took the bag she held and carried it to the trunk of the car, then returned for the rest of her luggage while she murmured her goodbyes to the dogs and locked the house. Within minutes, they were on their way to Grand Forks.
Gage sat not more than two feet from her. Neither spoke. After ten minutes, he finally broke the silence. “I want you to know I’m only doing this because I didn’t want Kevin out on these roads,” he explained.
“I already guessed as much.”
He made no further comment.
Another ten minutes passed before she found the courage to speak again. “However it happened, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to inconvenience anyone.”
“It isn’t an inconvenience.”
“I could have driven myself.”
“No, you couldn’t,” he snapped, and his attitude angered her so much she said nothing more.
“I’m sure your family’s anxious to see you,” Gage said out of the blue, almost as if they were back on friendly terms.
“Yes, and I’m looking forward to seeing them.”
He frowned; her answer didn’t appear to satisfy him. She gazed out at the road. The landscape was shockingly bright as the falling snow started to accumulate.
“Anyone else you’re anxious to see?” he asked.
The question held a hint of contempt, which she didn’t understand. “Maddy, of course.”
“No one else?”
Oh, now she understood. “You mean…Monte?”
“You didn’t mention his name before,” Gage told her. He stared straight ahead, his concentration on the road. But Lindsay wasn’t fooled. Gage wanted to know what would happen once she saw Monte again. It was a question she’d asked herself a thousand times.