Dakota Born

  Joshua slammed the gavel down. “No one said anything about giving up.”

  “No teacher’s gonna want to move here.” Marta apparently felt obliged to remind them of this.

  “We’ll find a teacher.” Joshua refused to let the Hansens’ pessimism influence the meeting any longer.

  “Look around you,” Jacob Hansen said, gesturing at the greasy window that faced the main street.

  Joshua didn’t need to look; he confronted the evidence every day when he opened his shop. The boarded-up businesses. The cracked sidewalks, with weeds sprouting up through the cracks. The litter on the streets. Whatever community pride there’d once been had long since died.

  “We aren’t going to let the school close,” Joshua stated emphatically.

  “I second that!” Hassie said. A deep sense of relief showed on her face, and the determination in her voice matched Joshua’s. He had lived his entire life in this place and he’d do whatever he could to save it. Come hell or high water, they’d find a teacher before school started up again at the end of August.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jacob Hansen said just loudly enough for them all to hear.

  “Well, then—prepare to believe,” Joshua said grandly.

  There was more life in Buffalo Valley than either of the Hansens suspected, and Joshua was going to prove it.

  Lindsay Snyder felt the anger churning in her stomach, anger at her own foolishness as much as anything. With her dogs sound asleep at her feet, she sat at her kitchen table and wrote in the pages of her journal. Whenever she was upset, she described her feelings; it helped her clarify them, helped her analyze what had happened and why. This time, though, she already knew the answers.

  When she finished, she set the leather-bound book aside and stared sightlessly out her apartment window. But it wasn’t the landscape she saw; it was her future.

  Monte was never going to marry her.

  She should have recognized it two years ago, and hadn’t. She realized it was because she so desperately wanted to be his wife, wanted to have a family with him. She loved him, and wasn’t marriage supposed to be the natural outcome of loving a man? But she’d allowed herself to see what she’d hoped to see. She’d allowed herself to believe she could convince him.

  Monte hadn’t lied to her, hadn’t misled her. From the beginning, he’d told her he wasn’t interested in marriage. He loved her, he said, but his divorce several years earlier had devastated him and he’d vowed not to repeat the experience. He’d never indicated in any way that he might change his mind. Lindsay knew there was only one person to blame for her unhappiness—and it wasn’t Monte.

  Soon—maybe six months—after their relationship had begun, she’d left him because he’d been adamant on the subject of marriage. He’d persuaded her to come back and she had, foolishly believing that eventually he’d change his mind and see things the way she did.

  It hadn’t happened.

  The phone rang and Lindsay glanced at the caller ID, relieved and at the same time depressed to see that it wasn’t his number.

  “Hello,” she mumbled into the phone.

  “It’s Maddy.”

  “I know.”

  “Hey, it’s a beautiful summer afternoon and you sound like you’ve just lost your best friend. However, I know that can’t be the case, ’cause I’m your best friend.”

  Lindsay sighed, wondering why Maddy had to seem so carefree and happy when her own world was falling apart. “Nothing’s wrong. Let me amend that. Nothing’s wrong that hasn’t been wrong for the past two years.”

  “Ah, then this has to do with Monte. What happened?”

  “Nothing.” That much was true. “Monte and I went out to dinner last night and took a romantic ride in a horse-drawn carriage around Chippewa Square. The magnolias were blooming and Maddy…it was perfect. Until—”

  “Until what?”

  Lindsay squeezed her eyes shut because even saying the words caused her pain. “Until I made the mistake of mentioning the future. The way he reacted, you’d think that was a dirty word. The next thing I knew, he was angry with me and we were arguing. And then I saw what I should have recognized all along—Monte is never going to marry me.”

  At first Maddy said nothing. “Are you breaking it off?”

  “Yes…I already did. It’s over, Maddy.”

  “You don’t sound absolutely certain of that.”

  “No, I mean it this time. Nothing he says is going to convince me to change my mind. I refuse to do this to myself any more.”

  “He told you from the very beginning that he wasn’t going to get married again.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t moved in with him. I know that’s what he wants.”

  But Lindsay realized now that even if she had, there still wouldn’t have been any commitment, any permanence. She’d actually considered living with him, and felt only relief that she hadn’t gone through with it. His feelings wouldn’t have changed—and her own anguish would’ve been that much worse.

  “So you broke it off for good?”

  “It’s over, Maddy. It’s time I opened my eyes and faced reality. I refuse to put my life on hold any longer.”

  “Way to go!” Then Maddy sobered. “I know it’s hard, but…”

  While in high school, they’d frequently had sleepovers and lain awake talking about the men they’d marry. It’d all seemed so simple back then, and here they were, both nearly thirty and not a husband in sight.

  “Remember when we were teenagers?” Lindsay couldn’t keep from thinking about all those silly schoolgirl dreams.

  Maddy snorted inelegantly. “We were what you’d call romantic idiots.”

  Lindsay shrugged wordlessly. It wasn’t as though either of them thought marriage was essential to a woman’s existence. But they both craved the closeness of a good marriage and the joys of having children. Maddy, at least, had an excuse. As a social worker for the state of Georgia, she worked long hours, looking out for the welfare of others. Almost all the overtime she put in was voluntary. Several nights a week, after work, she taught parenting classes for Project Family, a community-based organization. In addition, she mentored several troubled teenagers. Maddy wanted to save the world and she had a heart big enough to do it.

  Lindsay had no such ambition. Following her high-school graduation, she’d gone to college at the University of Georgia and roomed with Maddy for four years. Her degree was in French—a lot of good that had done her—with a minor in education. After graduation, she’d drifted from one job to another. The closest she’d come to using her French had been a summer job at the perfume counter in an upscale department store.

  There’d been a few opportunities to employ her language skills—teaching conversational French to tourists, translating business documents—but nothing that felt right. Then, almost four years ago, the woman who worked in the accounting office of her uncle Mike’s huge furniture store in Savannah had gotten sick and Lindsay had filled in. When Mrs. Hudson hadn’t returned, Lindsay had taken over permanently.

  “One day my prince will come.” Maddy’s voice sang its way through the telephone line. “And so will yours…”

  After college, both girls had been twenty-three, and it seemed as if they had all the time in the world to find their soul mates. Now, seven years later, Lindsay had given up counting the number of weddings in which she and Maddy had served as bridesmaids. Ten, possibly more, so many that it had become a joke between them. Periodically Maddy would suggest a joint yard sale just to get rid of all the pastel satin dresses. Maybe their luck would finally change, she’d say with a laugh.

  Then, a little more than two years ago, Lindsay’s luck did change. Monte Turner had come to work as a salesman for her uncle. The minute they were introduced, Lindsay had fallen for him. Within a month she’d broken off her relationship with Chuck Endicott, which had never been more than a casual involvement. She hadn’t dated anyone bu
t Monte since.

  She’d loved Monte, still did, but a two-year relationship had proved that he didn’t want the same things out of life as she did. He wasn’t interested in children, and the word commitment sent him running for cover. Lindsay had spent her entire life dreaming of both.

  “Listen,” Maddy said excitedly. “My boss insisted I take two weeks off. She’s afraid I’m going to burn out if I don’t get away. So, as of next Friday, I’m on vacation.”

  “Vacation.” Lindsay couldn’t help being envious.

  “Come with me,” Maddy urged. “You need to escape as much as I do.”

  Lindsay was tempted.

  “If you’re serious about breaking it off with Monte, then make it quick and clean. Dragging it out isn’t going to do either of you any good.”

  Maddy was right and Lindsay instinctively knew it. “Where do you want to go? Europe?” Two weeks in Paris sounded heavenly.

  “I can’t afford that,” Maddy said. Social workers were notoriously underpaid.

  “What about a couple of weeks on St. Simons Island?” As one of the Golden Isles off the Georgia coast, St. Simons was a prime resort location.

  “Paris is cheaper, for heaven’s sake!”

  Lindsay didn’t exactly have money to spare, either. “Okay, where do you suggest?”

  “How about a driving vacation? There’s so many places in this country I’ve never seen.”

  That sounded good to Lindsay. Away was away, wherever they ventured. Their destination mattered little to her. Maddy had recently bought a new car and they could share expenses.

  “I’ve always wanted to see Yellowstone Park,” Maddy said.

  “It’s fabulous,” Lindsay told her.

  “You’ve been?”

  “As a kid. You know my dad’s from North Dakota—he was born and raised there. We drove out to see the old homestead a couple of times while I was growing up. Yellowstone Park isn’t that far—at least I don’t think it is. I must have been about ten the last time we went.”

  “I liked your grandfather,” Maddie said quietly.

  Three years ago, soon after the death of Lindsay’s grandmother, Grandpa Snyder had grown disoriented and it was no longer safe for him to live alone. There was no longer any family left in the area, either Colbys—Gina’s people—or Snyders. So Lindsay’s parents had moved her grandfather from Buffalo Valley to a retirement center in Savannah, where he’d remained until his death the previous year. Lindsay had treasured that time with him, brief though it was. Because North Dakota was so far from Georgia and their visits infrequent, she’d barely known her Grandma and Grandpa Snyder.

  At first her grandfather had painfully missed the Red River Valley. He’d spoken endlessly of his life there. Lindsay remembered that he’d called the land blessed, but then said living in North Dakota was like wrestling with an angel. You had to fight it before you found the blessing. He described seeing double rainbows after a fierce rainfall, and wild winter snowstorms that turned the sky as gray as gunmetal. He’d talked about the incredible sunsets, the heavens glowing orange and pink and red as far as the eye could see.

  “I’d like to stop in Buffalo Valley,” Lindsay said.

  “Buffalo Valley?”

  “In North Dakota. It’s where my dad was raised.”

  “Sure. Let’s do that.”

  “My grandparents’ house is still there. It’s never sold.”

  “The ol’ homestead?”

  “No,” Lindsay said. “My grandparents sold the farm back in the early seventies and moved into town.” Lindsay wasn’t sure why their house hadn’t sold. “From what I understand, the place has been listed with a reputable real estate company all this time.” There had been talk of an estate sale, but Lindsay didn’t know what had come of it.

  “Then it’s probably a good idea if we check it out,” Maddy said.

  Lindsay knew her uncle wouldn’t mind her taking a vacation, and her family would be pleased when she told them her plans. Despite herself, she wondered what Monte would think.

  She didn’t have long to wait.

  After four days, during which they’d pretended to ignore each other, Monte showed up at her office. Lindsay had known that eventually he would, and she’d been dreading the conversation all week. Again, her dread was mixed with an odd sense of longing.

  “You’re going where?” Monte demanded, obviously annoyed that he’d heard of her plans from someone else.

  By now Lindsay was nearly starved for the sight of him and focused her attention on a roguish curl that fell across his forehead.

  “On vacation,” she told him as she moved about the compact room. It would be impossible to sit at her desk and not give herself away. She wanted him to react to her news, and at the same time recognized that she shouldn’t.

  He closed the door and leaned against it. “Isn’t this a little extreme?”

  “What?” She glanced over her shoulder as she slid a file into the four-drawer cabinet.

  “I heard you and Maddy are driving across the country. Two women alone—it’s not safe, Lindsay. If you’re angry with me, fine. Be angry. But we both know you’ll get over it soon enough. I already have. We had an argument. We’ve had them in the past and probably will again. Let’s put it behind us and move on. But don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I am over it,” she assured him sweetly.

  “Lindsay…”

  “Our relationship is finished, Monte. I meant what I said.”

  “If that’s what you want, fine,” he responded, as if their relationship was of little importance to him. “Why don’t you wait till I can take some time off and I’ll go with you? This vacation with Maddy could be dangerous.”

  “We’re capable, confident women. But thank you for your concern.”

  He hesitated. Lindsay continued filing.

  “I really am sorry about Friday night.” His voice was gentle. “We were both upset.”

  “I’m not upset.” She turned her back on him and slipped an invoice into the appropriate file.

  “You know how I feel about you.”

  He did love her; in her heart of hearts she believed that. She would never have stayed with him this long otherwise. Seeing him now, so handsome, his expression so caring, she found it hard to think of her life without him. “Marry me, Monte,” she pleaded before she could stop herself.

  His eyes filled with regret.

  As soon as she’d said the words, she wanted to grab them back. She’d done it again, tried to change a situation that couldn’t be changed. Sorrow washed over her and she shook her head hopelessly.

  “You’re going without me?” he murmured.

  “Without you.” That was the only way she could think clearly. The only way she could teach her heart to forget him.

  “When are you leaving?” he asked in a resigned voice.

  “Saturday morning.”

  Monte buried his hands deep inside his pants pockets. “Two weeks?”

  She nodded.

  “Will you phone me? At least give me that much. Just a quick call so I’ll know you’re all right.”

  Lindsay shook her head again. “Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.” She couldn’t. Talking to him would be too painful, too risky.

  “I’ll miss you,” Monte said quietly. He hesitated before he turned and walked out the door.

  It was after ten once Gage Sinclair had parked the tractor and finished cleaning his equipment. He’d been in the field from dawn to dusk cutting alfalfa, and he was weary to the bone. Funny how a man could work until he was so damned tired he could fall into bed without removing his boots, yet still experience the exhilaration that comes with pride.

  As he walked toward the house, he saw his mother sitting on the porch, her fingers busy with her latest knitting project, probably another sweater for him. Generally she was in bed by this time, since she was up before dawn, feeding and caring for the animals and the garden. With the hottest par
t of summer almost upon them, it made sense to finish chores in the cool of the morning.

  He’d been looking for Kevin, but his younger brother—half brother, actually—was nowhere to be seen. It was too damn hot to be holed up inside the house, and he couldn’t hear the television or what teenagers called music these days.

  The boy was an object of frustration to Gage. In another few years, Kevin would be taking over the farm. Naturally Gage would be around to guide and advise him, but the land belonged to Kevin and he would have to assume his responsibilities.

  Gage had been fifteen when his mother remarried after ten years as a widow, and eighteen when the boy had been born. John Betts had died when Kevin was five, so Gage had been more father than brother to the seventeen-year-old.

  Leta set aside her knitting and stood as he approached the house. Gage realized she’d been waiting for him. “Hassie phoned about the council meeting,” she told him, confirming his suspicion.

  Gage made no comment.

  “Don’t you want to know what happened?”

  “I figure you’re going to tell me.” Gage stepped onto the porch, but tired as he was, resisted sitting down for fear that once he did, he wouldn’t want to get up.

  His mother’s brief shrug told him he’d made a wise decision in avoiding the council meeting. If Joshua McKenna wanted to hold an emergency meeting and have him there, he’d need to schedule one when Gage wasn’t in the middle of cutting alfalfa.

  “Before you tell me, I had a thought about what to do once school starts,” he said. With Eloise gone, it was unlikely the high school would be in operation. Unrealistic and selfish though it might be, he wished the teacher had held on one last year, until Kevin was finished.

  “I know what you’re going to say.”

  Not surprised, Gage merely glanced at her. After all, they’d had this conversation before.

  “You want me to home-school him,” his mother continued.

  “It’s for the best.”

  “Fiddlesticks! It’s his senior year. I know Kevin will be taking over the farm, but he’s entitled to a decent high-school education—and some college if we can afford it. I was thinking we could send him to finish high school in Fargo. He could live with your uncle Jim and aunt Mary Lou.”