Dakota Home

  He didn’t reply. He took off his hat and hung it on a peg near the back door. His coat slowly followed. It seemed to take him an inordinate length of time to move away from the door.

  “I thought we should talk,” she said, her voice soft and coaxing.

  “Women seem to need that,” he said with a grim set to his mouth. He walked over to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. When he’d finished he turned around, leaned against the counter and raised the mug to his lips. “All right, I’m listening.”

  Maddy faltered badly. She’d had nearly three hours alone in his house and not once had she thought about what she’d say. The entire time had been spent brooding over what he would tell her.

  “I guess…I was hoping…I thought…” Her legs felt as if they were about to collapse, so she pulled out a chair and sat. Momentarily she closed her eyes, trying to rein in her scattered thoughts. All she could be was honest. “Last week was…special.”

  “I agree,” he said.

  Maddy’s heart flared with hope.

  “I have to tell you, Maddy, that was some of the best sex of my life. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend three days trapped in a blizzard. You were incredible.”

  “Sex?” she repeated. That was all it had meant to him?

  “Sex? Yes, of course. What else could it have been? We barely know each other.” He took another sip of coffee, then added, “Don’t tell me you expected me to declare my undying love for you.” His voice was incredulous. “I know women tend to get sentimental about sex, but even you must realize how ludicrous that would be.” He laughed harshly. “Think about it, Maddy.”

  “I’ve thought about almost nothing else,” she said, unable to hide her bitterness.

  “Like I said, how could I be in love with you when we barely know each other?”

  “You know more about me than any man since college,” she told him, although that was a stupid argument and she knew it even as she said the words.

  “Hey, it’s been a long time for me, too.”

  “So,” she said and her voice shook with pain—and anger. She paused, then tried again, “So it was just sex.”

  “Good sex,” he amended.

  “Terrific sex,” she agreed with a sarcastic laugh.

  “Right.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I suppose you think because I’m a cripple I was grateful you’d be willing to sleep with—”

  “No!” she cried before he could finish. “I thought nothing of the kind!”

  “Just wondering,” he said, as though bored with the subject.

  “I imagine it’s a little embarrassing having me show up like this,” she said, blindly tossing aside the apron she still clutched. She looked around for her car keys, desperate now to escape. She’d put them down somewhere, but for the life of her couldn’t recall where. Dear God, she had to get away!

  He followed her into the living room. “Not embarrassing exactly,” he commented, then seemed to notice the frantic way she was throwing pillows off the sofa. “What are you looking for?”

  “My keys,” she cried. “I can’t find my key chain. The keys are here, I know they are.”

  They both searched for a couple of minutes before he suggested, “Did you leave them in the car?”

  Immediately she knew that was exactly what she’d done. Hurrying to the back porch, she grabbed her coat and couldn’t get it on fast enough. “I’m sorry I came by, Jeb. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  “No need to apologize,” he assured her. “It’s best to get everything out in the open, don’t you agree?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, wrapping the muffler around her neck with sufficient force to choke herself. “The next time I’m in the mood for sex…great sex,” she corrected, “I’ll know exactly where to go.”

  He trailed her outside.

  Maddy rushed to her Bronco, hesitated, then turned around. “There’s a casserole in the oven.” She glanced at her watch. “It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes. Goodbye, Jeb.”

  Her heart was breaking—and all she could do was tell him about a casserole? A sob tore its way from her throat and her shoulders shook as the tears came in earnest, flooding her eyes.

  Her fingers trembling, she started the car, which quickly roared to life. She put it into gear and with tears nearly blinding her, looked over her shoulder as she began to back out of his yard.

  Only she hadn’t put the vehicle in Reverse. In her eagerness to escape, she’d inadvertently placed it in Drive. Instantly the vehicle bolted forward and crashed into a tree. Her upper body shot forward, then was jerked back by the seat belt. It took her a moment to realize what she’d done and another to recognize that she hadn’t been hurt. Stunned, she remained in the front seat, barely taking in what had happened. Fortunately the collision hadn’t released the airbag.

  “Maddy!” The driver’s door was yanked open by a breathless Jeb. “Dear God, are you all right?”

  She looked at him, her vision blurred by tears. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing.

  “You’re in no condition to drive.”

  “I’m okay…I’m okay,” she told him between sobs.

  “Let me get you into the house.”

  “No!” She shouted this time. Never in her life did she want to go back in that house. Never.

  “Maddy, for the love of God, be reasonable.” He reached across her to unfasten the seat belt.

  Maddy wouldn’t let him. In her pain and anger, she slapped at him with both hands and screamed, “Leave me alone! Just leave me alone.”

  Without bothering to check behind her, she put the car in Reverse and roared back, not caring that Jeb was only a few feet away or that her car door was open. She drove five or ten feet, then slammed on the brakes and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Her head was pressed against the steering wheel when Jeb approached the Bronco.

  “Maddy, please…”

  She glared at him, shut the driver’s door and stepped hard on the accelerator, causing the rear end to fishtail as she slipped and skidded down the long driveway. This time she didn’t stop and wouldn’t until she got home to Buffalo Valley. By then, she told herself, she would have cried all the tears she intended to shed over Jeb McKenna. He’d killed whatever tenderness had been between them.

  Jeb’s shoulders fell forward with the weight of what he’d done as Maddy’s vehicle screeched out of the yard. He’d accomplished exactly what he’d set out to do, but seeing her pain gave him damn little satisfaction. He hated himself for what he’d been forced to say, but he’d had no choice. She was vivacious and openhearted. He’d seen her with people, saw how they reacted to her. Three months away from town, stuck out on this ranch, and she’d slowly die. He had nothing to offer a woman like Maddy.

  Staring after her, he debated whether he should get in his truck and follow her. The least he could do was ensure she made it safely back to Buffalo Valley. Then again, perhaps it was best to leave well enough alone. He stood there for ten minutes, coatless, the cold wind cutting through him.

  If he went after her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep from confessing that it had all been a lie. He did love her. But that didn’t change anything. What they had wasn’t real. It wouldn’t stand up against reality. He recognized that, although Maddy probably didn’t. Maybe he should try to explain….

  He went to the house for his jacket and made it all the way to his truck before he changed his mind again. He needed every shred of restraint and willpower he’d ever possessed not to jump inside his pickup and race after her.

  He slumped against the truck door. Sure, he told himself, in the beginning, living with Maddy would have been great, but eventually the isolation would destroy all their happiness. Love wasn’t enough, would never be enough—not with someone like him. He knew it, and had done his best to accept it.

  Without giving her the opportunity to argue, he already knew what Maddy would say. She’d want to
gloss over their very real differences, pretend they didn’t exist. She’d try to tell him the two of them could have a future and sustain their love. But she was wrong.

  Maddy Washburn was friendly, gracious, charming and a good person—quite possibly the best person he’d ever had the privilege to know. He was none of those things.

  In addition, he preferred his own company. Over the years, Jeb had grown accustomed to living alone. Maddy would come into his well-ordered existence like a tornado, sending his entire world into disarray. She would discover that his life wasn’t what she expected. Not only that, everything would change once they were together. He’d had a week to think it all through. Jeb didn’t want to deal with change; he’d had enough of it.

  Okay, so he’d lied. He did love her, had almost from the first. Maddy was an easy woman to love and what they shared had been a lot more than just good sex. What they’d shared was love. Unfortunately, that didn’t alter one damn thing.

  In addition to the very real differences between their personalities, he had his life and she had hers. Like their personalities, their lives were complete opposites. She was exactly the right kind of person to run the grocery store. People were important to her. She hadn’t been in town more than a few months and already everyone he knew was crazy about her.

  Jeb had his bison and his land, and that was what mattered to him. Not people, not relationships. He had his family and Dennis, and those were all the people he needed or wanted. Perhaps if he were a different kind of man, he’d allow himself to show his feelings, expose his heart to Maddy. But in the end he’d be doing her a grave disservice by bringing her into his life. It was better this way, for both of them.

  Even knowing all that, it’d nearly killed him to see her in such pain. Each sob had felt like a blade thrust into his own heart. But sometimes cruelty was a kindness.

  The bitter wind sliced into him as Jeb headed back toward the house. Once inside, he sank down on a kitchen chair and rubbed his hand over his eyes. Abruptly, he jumped up again to turn off the oven and removed the casserole she’d made him. He wasn’t sure he could eat it. The memory of Maddy as she barreled out of the driveway with her door half-open would remain with him a very long time. Sometime in the future he could only hope that she’d understand why he’d said the things he had and could forgive him.

  The phone rang, startling him, and Jeb reached for it without thinking. He was afraid it was Maddy and that she’d had another accident and needed help. Not until he answered did it occur to him that he was the last person on earth she’d call.

  “Hello,” he said briskly.

  “Hi, Jeb.”

  It was his sister, the very person he’d managed to avoid talking to all week, and the last person he wanted to talk to now.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” she said, sounding pleased. “I have some things to go over with you.”

  “Can’t they wait?” He was in no mood for this.

  “No,” she insisted. “It’s Thanksgiving next week. Are you coming or not?”

  “Not.” His answer obviously didn’t suit her, but then he knew it wouldn’t.

  “Oh, Jeb, why do you have to be so damned stubborn?”

  “I was there last year.”

  “No, you weren’t,” she corrected, “you came for Christmas.”

  “Fine, whatever. I didn’t come for Thanksgiving last year and I have no intention of coming this year.” His voice as much as his words must have taken her by surprise.

  “I was going to invite Maddy Washburn to join us,” she added, as if this was supposed to entice him to change his mind.

  “Then I definitely won’t be there.”

  Now there was no hiding her dismay. “But I thought—”

  “What did you think?” he snapped.

  “Don’t use that tone with me, Jeb McKenna. I talked to Maddy last week and she said…” Sarah hesitated.

  “What exactly did she say?” he demanded.

  “Well, first off, she made it quite clear that she was interested in you.”

  He managed a scornful laugh.

  “She said she’d be seeing you this week.”

  Another laugh, this time to let his sister know that Maddy was living in a dream world. “Hardly,” he said.

  “But I thought—”

  “You both thought wrong,” he said, his anger close to the surface. “If you want to invite her to spend Thanksgiving with the family, then fine, go right ahead. But I won’t be there.”

  A long silence followed and Jeb held his breath. His sister knew him too well and he feared she’d see through his words.

  “Oh, Jeb…”

  “Listen, I’m sorry to disappoint you about Thanksgiving. If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll come into town for Christmas.”

  “All right.” She sounded distant, deep in thought.

  “Thanks for calling,” he said, eager now to get off the phone.

  “Jeb,” she stopped him. “About Maddy—”

  “I don’t want to talk about Maddy,” he shouted, his pain evident despite his effort to hide his feelings.

  “Doesn’t she deliver groceries on Thursdays?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate.

  A pause. Then she asked, “You saw her this afternoon?”

  Jeb pressed his index finger and his thumb against his eyes. “I saw her.”

  Sarah, God love her, seemed to know everything without his needing to say a word. All at once the pretense was too much for him. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t care, not with Sarah.

  “Oh, Jeb,” she whispered.

  “Listen, Sarah,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even and unemotional. “Do me a favor, would you?”

  “Anything. You know that.”

  “Would you check on Maddy for me?”

  She hesitated. “Of course.”

  “I want to be sure she got home all right.”

  “Okay,” Sarah whispered.

  “If she isn’t there in another hour, phone me?”

  “I will.”

  “Gotta go. Thanks, Sis,” he said, and then before he could say anything more, he replaced the receiver and leaned his forehead against the kitchen wall.

  Never in all his life had he felt less of a man.

  Nine

  In the past, Sarah had always found it possible to immerse herself in her quilts. Troubles and money worries would vanish when she sat down to her quilting. But whatever tranquility her work had offered over the years had deserted her in the past week.

  It’d all started last Thursday when she’d spoken with her brother. Jeb might think he could fool her, but she knew him far too well to let his tone or even his words put her off. Rarely had she heard such pain in his voice. It had nearly broken her own heart when he’d asked her to check on Maddy. He hadn’t said anything about what had happened between them, but Sarah knew.

  In the time Jeb and Maddy had spent together during the blizzard, Maddy had fallen in love with him. Sarah had prayed something like that would happen. Maddy was perfect for her brother, and Sarah had recognized it early on. She’d been absolutely delighted when she learned the two of them had been holed up together, trapped in his house for three days. Nature had wrought a far more successful plan than anything Sarah might have schemed.

  After her phone conversation with Jeb, Sarah had done as he’d asked and checked to see if Maddy made it safely home. But Maddy had refused to answer her phone, so Sarah had walked over to the small house attached to the store. The Bronco was parked out front, but even repeated knocking didn’t bring Maddy to the door. Sarah could only guess that Maddy had no intention of answering.

  When she’d phoned Jeb to tell him Maddy had arrived home, he didn’t answer his phone, either, so she’d left a message on his machine. In the days since, Sarah hadn’t called him, nor had he returned her call. She suspected he wanted his privacy the same way Maddy did.

  She’d begun to despair of Jeb’s ever finding the love or
companionship he needed. In rejecting Maddy’s love, he’d turned his back on a normal life. Apparently he preferred a reclusive existence, preferred to think of himself as handicapped. What he didn’t seem to understand was that it wasn’t his leg that limited him, but his mind.

  Sarah’s heart ached for him and the choices he’d made. But her heart also ached for herself and the impossible choices she’d been forced to make over the years. Discouraged as she felt about her brother, she really couldn’t say much, since she was guilty of rejecting Dennis’s love.

  With her arms wrapped about her waist, she walked over to the shop window and stared out at Main Street. Dirty snowbanks lined both sides of the street. The town now seemed gray and dingy, matching her mood. She tried to shake it off. She should be quilting, should be doing any number of things other than fretting over Jeb when she had troubles enough of her own.

  She looked toward the Cenex station at the far end of town. She hadn’t seen Dennis since before the snowstorm. He used to come by her shop two or three times a week; whenever he did, she’d tried to convince herself it would be better if he stayed away—but that had been a lie, like so much else in her life. She missed him painfully, missed his laconic humor, his decency, his unstinting love. She missed the morning cup of coffee they sometimes shared. Most days now, she struggled with the truth and how much to tell him about her marriage. Most days, she felt lost and bewildered about what she should do.

  Dennis assumed she came to him for sex, that she used him, took advantage of his love for her. The tally of her sins mounted every time she totaled them. What he didn’t realize—because she’d never told him—was how much she loved him, too. She wanted more than anything to marry him, but she couldn’t. She was still married and in addition to the emotional damage Willie Stern had done, he’d left her with debts. Half of the debts he’d incurred during their marriage were legally her responsibility. Little by little she’d paid off each one. And there’d been no more; the legal separation had seen to that.

  Dennis’s silence could only mean one thing. He was impatient with her. He wanted Sarah to make a decision regarding their relationship: marry him or end the affair. He’d grown frustrated and angry with the waiting.