“You should’ve been here when her old boyfriend from Savannah—some guy named Monte, if you can believe it—showed up with her dad and found out Lindsay decided to marry a local farmer. I thought he was gonna have a conniption. Lindsay’s dad was so disgusted with the guy, he walked off and left him. Folks around here are still laughing at the temper tantrum ol’ Monte threw right in the middle of Main Street.”
The woman smiled. “Buffalo Valley seems to be growing.”
“We got a full-time pizza restaurant now. Rachel Fischer took over her parents’ old place. I had to give up selling the frozen variety, seeing that no one wanted mine when Rachel’s selling the real thing.”
“I can imagine.”
“Sarah Stern rented one of the storefronts for her quilting shop. Do you know Sarah?”
“I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“She sews really fabulous quilts. They seem to be catching on, too. And from what I understand, she recently hired Joanie Wyatt.” He paused and scratched his head in puzzlement over the living arrangements the Wyatts had set up. “Joanie and the three kids moved into town. It’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard of. The wife living in town and the husband out on the ranch. Brandon visits once or twice a week, but he doesn’t spend the night. Whatever works, I guess.”
Her smile was friendly as she reached for her purse.
“I didn’t mean to talk your ear off.”
“You didn’t. I enjoyed it.”
Buffalo Bob was relieved. Some folks liked it when he talked about the community, but there were others who preferred to be left alone. Jeb McKenna, for example.
“I don’t suppose you could tell me where the cemetery is.”
“Oh, sure. It’s outside town. You take Main Street to Division Street, just past the grain elevator and go left.”
“Thanks.”
Not wanting to make a pest of himself, Buffalo Bob returned the glass pot to the burner.
The woman took one last sip of her coffee, then stood and placed a dollar bill on the table.
“Do you want change?” He only charged fifty cents for a cup of coffee.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Thanks. And come again.”
“I’m sure I will,” she said.
“Listen, seeing that you know Lindsay, would you like me to tell her you stopped by?”
She hesitated. “All right.”
“Who should I say?”
“Tell Lindsay her aunt was briefly in town and will be getting in touch with her later.”
“Sure thing.”
“Her aunt Angela Kirkpatrick.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0381-9
DAKOTA BORN
Copyright © 1999 by Debbie Macomber.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Debbie Macomber, Dakota Born
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