“I want a marriage, and what we have isn’t that.”
“I’ve got a signed wedding license that states otherwise. If you want to end our marriage, there’s nothing I can do. But let’s get something settled right now.”
She closed her suitcase and secured the lock. He waited until she’d straightened and was looking at him before he spoke.
“Once you walk out that door, don’t think I’m going to follow.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Joanie.”
She didn’t doubt him.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll send you what I can financially.”
Tears burned her eyes and it took the full force of her determination to keep them at bay. “I’d appreciate whatever you can do to help.”
“How do you plan to support yourself?” he asked. “Will you be getting a job?”
She nodded. “I talked to a friend of my mother’s when I was home at Thanksgiving…. She said if things don’t work out here, she’d hire me.”
Cold, hard anger flashed from his eyes. “How many people have you discussed this with? How long have you been planning it, anyway? You didn’t answer me before.”
She stared at him. “Does it matter?” she finally asked.
“I guess not,” he said in a defeated voice.
“That’s what I thought.” She slid the suitcase off the bed and set it next to the others. “I’ll make sure the children keep in touch.”
He nodded. “Just remember this was your decision.”
“I’ll remember.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” With those words, he hurried from the room. The lump in her throat made breathing nearly impossible.
It was over.
After she’d left with the children in the morning, she wouldn’t see Brandon again. Not unless it was in court.
Rachel had looked forward to this evening all week. Mark was spending the night at Lindsay’s while she went to dinner with Heath. The one unfortunate aspect of her pizza success was that it tied up her weekends. Since he was in town three days a week, Heath suggested they go out for dinner on a Wednesday.
During the last three months, Rachel had felt she was beginning to know Heath. He’d waited a long time to ask her out; he’d become her friend first, and she was grateful for his patience. He was the kind of man who knew what he wanted—and knew exactly how to get it. And if she was what he wanted…Well, she had to feel flattered.
Over Thanksgiving, he’d invited her to meet his grandmother, and Rachel had spent an enjoyable afternoon at the older woman’s home. Lily remembered not only Rachel’s parents, but her grandparents and had told her several stories she’d never heard before.
Rachel had loved watching Heath with his grandmother and enjoyed the conversational play between them. Lily Quantrill was as prickly as a cactus, and Heath always managed to say just the right thing to rile her. Rachel had teased him about it afterward and he’d told her how much he loved his grandmother. It was obvious to her that Lily Quantrill treasured her grandson, too. Rachel suspected these two were more alike than either one realized.
Tonight’s dinner was important, a turning point for them. Rachel wasn’t sure how she knew this, but she had the distinct feeling that it was much more than a routine date. Meeting his grandmother had been the first step, and apparently she’d passed muster.
Rachel’s dress had cost a small fortune, and she’d spent copious amounts of time on her hair and makeup. When she dropped Mark off, Lindsay had assured her she looked fabulous. Rachel hoped that was true. It’d been years, at least fifteen years, since she’d gone out on a date, and despite knowing Heath and feeling comfortable with him, she was nervous.
The doorbell chimed and she leaped off the sofa, her heart pounding. She forced herself to be calm as she walked to the front door.
“Hello, Rachel,” Heath said, stepping inside. He’d stamped the snow off his boots and brushed off his coat as he stood on the porch waiting for her. The December wind howled outside, and she could see that it was snowing more heavily now.
“You got your Christmas tree up early,” he said, glancing around the house. He seemed to approve.
“Mark wanted the tree up last weekend. I don’t know how I managed to put him off as long as I did.”
Heath returned his attention to Rachel, and his gaze softened. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you. You do, too.”
Heath grinned, and Rachel swore it was the most wonderful smile she’d ever seen. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called lovely before.”
“You know what I meant,” she said, blushing.
He helped her on with her coat, and his hands lingered at her shoulders. When his lips touched the side of her neck, Rachel closed her eyes as the shivers raced down her spine. He turned her in his arms and she didn’t resist when his mouth sought hers. His kiss was light and gentle. And brief—he pulled away almost immediately.
“We’d better go,” he murmured, his breath a little unsteady.
She nodded.
“I made a reservation at Mulligan’s in Devils Lake.”
It was by far the best restaurant in the area. Getting there entailed a fairly long drive, but if Heath didn’t mind, she certainly wasn’t going to object.
“Mark’s with Lindsay, so it doesn’t matter what time I get back.”
“Is she keeping him for the night?”
“Yes.” Rachel flicked off all but a few lights. “He was really excited, especially since he’s got a minor role in the play. He gets to practice his lines with the director.”
“The play’s next week?”
“Thursday to Saturday. It should be wonderful—everyone’s worked so hard.” One way or another, the entire community was involved in this play. Her job had been publicity—sending press releases to radio stations and local newspapers. She’d heard that people from as far away as the Canadian border were planning to attend.
Heath handed her into his car, then raced around the front. “Damn, it’s cold,” he muttered as he slipped into the driver’s seat.
She didn’t think now was the time to remind him that it was going to get much colder come January. Officially it wasn’t even winter yet. He hadn’t lived in North Dakota in some years and must have forgotten about the weather.
Rachel had never eaten at Mulligan’s and was pleased to discover that the restaurant’s glowing reviews had been accurate. They both ordered steak and shared a bottle of red wine. She found their conversation equally delightful. He told her about his travels and she was fascinated by the places he’d been and the things he’d seen and done. She could have listened to him forever.
“Lindsay told me how much the high-school kids enjoyed it when you came to talk,” she said when the conversation moved closer to home.
He smiled. “It was fun for me, too. Originally I was going to discuss banking, checking accounts and so on, but we got sidetracked and one thing led to another. Soon I was talking about my travels. Luckily I’d thought to bring along some foreign money and a few other mementos.”
According to Lindsay, Heath had enthralled the high-school students. He’d brought not only an English pound, French francs and more, but an Italian goblet dating from the 1600s, an Egyptian flag and a petrified branch from the Alps. Each article had a story behind it and these stories had led to one of the liveliest afternoons of the school year. Lindsay said the kids had begged to have him return.
The restaurant was getting ready to close when Heath finally suggested they leave. They hurried through the cold to his car and quickly got inside.
“Oh, Heath, I had such a wonderful evening.”
“I did, too,” he said, smiling at her.
Warm and happy, Rachel leaned her head against the back of the seat and sighed. “You sure know how to make a girl happy, don’t you?”
“I try.”
She laughed softly at his response.
When they arrived i
n Buffalo Valley and he’d parked in front of her house, Heath said, “Are you going to invite me in for coffee?”
“Do you want me to?”
“That would be nice.”
“Then consider yourself invited.”
Like the gentleman he was, Heath helped Rachel out of the car. He followed her into the kitchen and watched her prepare a pot of coffee.
“It isn’t really coffee that interests me,” he told her.
“Oh?”
“It’s you.”
“Oh, Heath…”
He led her back to the living room and pulled her into his lap as he sat on the sofa. Rachel slid her arms around his neck and kissed him. She felt a tenderness growing inside her because of the things Heath made her feel. Because of his gentleness and his kindness and his interesting stories. Because of his kisses…
He kissed her again, more urgently than before. “I never guessed it would be like this with you,” he whispered. He angled his head and dropped a succession of kisses along her throat until she moaned softly. He made a small sound of his own, then quickly joined their mouths again.
Rachel felt weak with desire. Her head was clouded with wine and kisses.
“You chose a very beautiful dress,” he murmured before another lengthy kiss. “I just wish it wasn’t one with a zipper down the back.”
She heard the hissing sound as it opened and maneuvered her arms so that he was able to loosen the bodice. His hands found her breasts and she moaned as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, which responded immediately.
“I’ve been all over the world,” Heath told her between soul-searing kisses. “And all along you’ve been right here.”
He said the most romantic things.
“We’re going to make love, Rachel—”
Her eyes flew open. “Now?”
“Tonight.” He sounded so confident, so sure of himself.
“Heath.” She placed her hands on either side of his face and looked down at him. “I’m not ready for that to happen. Not yet.”
His eyes revealed his confusion. “What do you mean? I thought—”
“I didn’t realize what you thought and if I had, I would’ve set you straight. It’s too soon.”
“But you had Mark spend the night with Lindsay.”
“That wasn’t because I was planning to sleep with you!”
“You don’t expect me to drive all the way to Grand Forks tonight, do you?” His words were light, teasing, but there was an underlying disappointment.
“No.”
“Good.” His face relaxed.
“Buffalo Bob will appreciate the business.”
He frowned, as though he didn’t quite believe her.
“Heath, I don’t know where you got the impression that I’d be willing to jump into bed with you on our first date, but you’ve been misinformed.”
He stared at her.
“What’s the matter, hasn’t a woman ever turned you down before?” she asked softly, making a joke of it.
“As a matter of fact, no.” He removed her from his lap and stood up, still looking bewildered. “I don’t understand.” He rammed his fingers through his hair. “We kiss, and I feel like I’m about to explode while you sit there, all calm and collected.”
“I like your kisses, too, but I’m not about to do something I’ll regret later. I have a reputation to consider, and maybe it’s a bit old-fashioned in this day and age, but I do have certain values.”
He paced back and forth but didn’t speak.
“I’m genuinely sorry if I misled you,” she said.
“You haven’t misled me,” he growled. “I got your message loud and clear. You’re looking for a man who’s more of a saint than I’ll ever be. Good luck to you, Rachel. I hope you find him—but he isn’t me.”
Thirteen
Gage escorted his mother into the old theater and had to admit he was impressed with the changes. His own contribution had been an earlier part of the whole process, when it looked as if Lindsay—and Hassie—were asking the impossible. The task of renovating the boarded-up movie house had seemed hopeless, but the job was done. He admired Lindsay’s grit and determination. Before he knew how it’d happened, he was doing carpentry and plastering, and after that he’d found himself painting walls and washing light fixtures along with just about everyone else. Once again, the community had come together for a common goal because of Lindsay. First the school, then the theater…Even Jacob and Marta Hansen had contributed—without their usual long list of complaints.
The old theater had responded graciously to the attention and, looking around, he saw hints of its former glory. Now a Christmas tree stood where there’d once been a player organ, and someone—Gage suspected Lindsay—had strung evergreen boughs around the huge room.
“Oh, look, Gage,” Leta said, nodding to the left. “The Hunters are here.”
Gage recognized a number of people he hadn’t seen in a long time. Word had spread quickly about this Christmas play. Farmers and ranchers from various neighboring towns had come and brought their families. There were so few entertainment opportunities available to the region these days.
“It does my heart good to see all these people,” his mother added.
Every seat was filled, and if Lindsay hadn’t reserved the first few rows for the parents and families of the high-school class, Gage figured he’d be lucky to find two seats together.
He ushered his mother to their fifth-row seats, then sat down himself. He didn’t like to think about what would happen at the end of the school year. He knew he wanted Lindsay to stay, but he didn’t count on it.
She’d brought energy and hope when she’d moved to Buffalo Valley. Her enthusiasm had affected the entire community. Here it was, the end of a year that had been filled with bad news, and people were laughing and talking. There was a sense of festivity, of excitement. Instead of concentrating on what they lacked, people, himself included, were grateful for what they had. He would never be a rich man by the world’s standards. Yet he had everything he needed to be happy, and he thanked the new schoolteacher for reminding him of that.
Lindsay was responsible for a lot of the good things that were taking place in Buffalo Valley. Kevin actually looked forward to classes, and Gage was well aware that his brother’s renewed enthusiasm for school could largely be attributed to Lindsay. Not since grade school had Kevin shown such eagerness to learn.
But it was more than that. Kevin talked more freely to Gage now, and had even shown him a few of his art projects. The boy had talent and had beamed with pride when Gage said so.
Having members of the town come in as guest speakers every Friday afternoon had inspired pride in each of these visitors. Joshua McKenna walked a little taller these days, since it was his talk about Dakota history that had inspired the play. Much of the furniture for the set had come from his store and he’d helped with the lighting, as well. One of Sarah’s quilts was used in the play, too, and an old blanket chest of Hassie’s.
Lindsay had motivated the people of Buffalo Valley to show this generosity, this pride in who they were. She’d given them a way to recapture a spirit of community—and of Christmas. Maybe not all of them would admit that, but Gage knew it to be true.
He supposed he’d fallen in love with her that first day he’d met her, last summer. Try as he might, he’d been unable to forget her. When she’d accepted the job and moved to Buffalo Valley he’d tried to ignore her, knowing, as he had at their first meeting, that she could become someone important in his life.
What they’d learned about their grandparents had brought them closer. Gage felt a genuine kinship with Lindsay, and an appreciation for the sacrifices his grandfather had made. Lindsay seemed confident that her grandmother had always loved Jerome Sinclair; by the same token, Gage knew his grandfather had loved Gina Snyder with an equal passion. He wouldn’t have stayed out of her life otherwise.
“I can hardly wait,” Leta said, after she’d settled
into her seat. “Oh, I hope nothing goes wrong.” Gage couldn’t remember his mother being this nervous about anything—not even dinner with Father McGrath. Kevin didn’t have an actual role in the play, but he’d designed and painted the scenery, spending long afternoons on the project, and he was the assistant stage manager, or “ASM” as he told them importantly.
Gage read the program and noted that Buffalo Bob had taken advantage of the promotional opportunity with a full-page advertisement—including a ten-percent off coupon. He’d sponsored the printing of both the program and the posters, which had been designed by Rachel Fischer and hung in three different counties.
Many families would make use of the dinner coupon. Gage suspected Buffalo Bob would do more business in the next three nights than at any other time since he’d opened his doors.
Chalk another one up for Lindsay. Hiring her had been a boon to their town’s economy.
“Look,” his mother said proudly, pointing to Kevin’s name in the program. All twelve members of the high school, plus a handful of younger students, were listed. Lindsay had also made sure that everyone who’d worked on getting the theater ready had received an acknowledgment.
The chatter lowered to an excited hush as the curtain parted and Lindsay stepped center stage. The lights were in her eyes; Gage could tell from the way she squinted. She was nervous and struggling to hide it, holding a small white card in a death grip, her gaze nervously darting around the full auditorium. Gage liked to think she was seeking him out and he smiled at her, trying to lend her confidence.
But when she spoke, her voice was strong and sure. “Good evening, everyone,” she said. “I want to welcome each of you to our Christmas play. I’m happy to announce that we’re sold out for the first night. The box office just informed me there’s standing room only.”
Enthusiastic applause followed.
When she left the stage, Gage was gratified by the cheers and loud clapping. She deserved it.
The play was everything he’d known it would be. Lindsay’s students had taken incidents from their grandparents’ lives and built a play around their hardships and triumphs. People had made memorable Christmas celebrations out of very little in those days—some homemade gifts and decorations, a community carol-singing service, dinner with family and friends.