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“I hate myself for thinking ill of him,” she muttered.
Jeb shrugged. He viewed Eilers as a weak man, although he wasn’t sure exactly what had shaped that opinion.
Maddy’s sigh was expressive. “Last I heard, he was dating Sheryl Decker in Devils Lake.”
Jeb had never heard of her. “Who?”
“Sheryl Decker. She waits tables at a truck stop outside town.”
“Maybe he’ll marry her, then,” Jeb suggested, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.
Maddy sighed and relaxed the knitting needles in her lap. “We can always hope.”
“Matt,” Sheryl Decker called from the bedroom. “Bring me my cigarettes, would you?”
Matt opened the refrigerator and grabbed a cold can of beer. Sheryl knew he didn’t like her smoking, but his wishes didn’t dissuade her.
He returned to the bedroom and tossed the pack onto the bed, the abruptness of his action telling her he didn’t approve.
“You know how much I enjoy my smokes,” she said, pulling open her nightstand drawer and reaching for a lighter. She placed the cigarette between her lips, lit up and blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling.
Matt joined her on the bed and took a deep swallow of beer. He was upset with himself and with Sheryl. She knew he’d wanted to attend Bernard Clemens’s funeral. He might not have liked the wealthy rancher, but Clemens was his neighbor and he felt honor-bound to pay his last respects. Sheryl, however, had other ideas, and like a fool he’d fallen under her spell—and not for the first time, either. Without much effort, she’d managed to lure him into bed; despite his best intentions, he’d let it happen.
“Are you still mad at me?” she asked, running her long fingernail down the length of his arm.
“No,” he muttered. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
“You know I have to work tonight, and this afternoon was the only time we could be together.”
He did know. His mistake was in stopping by Sheryl’s place at all. He’d come into Devils Lake for feed and had expected to get back before the funeral.
“You can still go to the reception, can’t you?”
“No.”
She wrapped her arm around his bare chest. “I’m really sorry,” she purred like the sex kitten she was. Matt had never wanted this relationship to take the path it had. He’d started coming by once or twice a month for dinner and companionship. Occasionally he spent the night. They had an understanding, or so he’d assumed, one that provided mutual satisfaction. Lately, however, Sheryl had begun to bring up the uncomfortable subject of marriage. Matt didn’t try to argue simply because it was easier to let her talk than to argue.
“I was thinking we should get married after the first of the year,” she said, taking another deep drag of her cigarette.
Matt sighed. He didn’t understand what it was with women and marriage. “Yeah, maybe. Whatever.”
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” she said with heavy sarcasm.
“I can’t figure out why women are always so eager to get married.”
Sheryl stared at him incredulously. “Do you think I want to wait tables the rest of my life?”
To be perfectly honest, he’d never thought about it one way or the other.
“You planning to marry anyone else?” she demanded, then without asking helped herself to a long swallow of his beer.
“Margaret Clemens,” he said, knowing that was sure to get a reaction.
“Margaret Clemens,” Sheryl repeated with a harsh laugh. “That’s a joke, right?”
“Not according to her father.”
Sheryl twisted around so she could look him in the eye. “You talked to Bernard Clemens about marrying Margaret?”
“No,” he said, disliking the cold tone of her voice. “He mentioned it to me.”
“When did he do that?” She brushed the bleached blond curls away from her forehead.
“A few weeks back. He asked to talk to me and I went over to see him.”
“And what exactly did he say?”
“He claimed Margaret’s in love with me.”
“Is she?”
Matt lifted both shoulders in a shrug. He hadn’t told anyone about the conversation. He’d never considered Margaret in romantic terms, and it flustered him to think she held any such feelings for him. Not that he was interested. Margaret was, well … Margaret. He didn’t even view her as a woman, like Sheryl, for instance, who was feminine from the top of her head to the tips of her crimson-painted toes. Although if memory served him right, Margaret had been dressed in something pretty the night of Buffalo Bob and Merrily’s wedding.
“Her dad warned you off, did he?” Sheryl asked, apparently finding the question humorous.
Matt wasn’t sure how to answer. “As a matter of fact, no. He seemed to think I’d marry her.”
“For her money?”
Matt nodded. “According to him, Margaret’s determined to have me.”
“Really?” Sheryl made a low snickering sound.
“That’s what he said.” It wasn’t something to brag about. Actually it was more of an embarrassment than anything. Ever since their conversation, Matt had gone out of his way to avoid Margaret Clemens.
“Are you going to marry her?”
“No!” His denial was swift and angry. How could Sheryl even suspect him of something like that?
She didn’t say anything for several moments, then seemed to come to some conclusion that excited her. Tossing aside the blankets, she scrambled to her knees and a slow smile crept over her wide mouth. “Why not marry her?”
“Well, for one thing, I don’t love her. For another …” He couldn’t think of a second reason fast enough. “Hey, I thought you wanted me to marry you.”
“You will, make no mistake about it. But you could marry Margaret first.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Why?” she asked as if that was the most hilarious question anyone had every posed. “Because she’s rich.”
“So?”
“You’ve been hoping to buy the Stockert ranch for years.”
“Yes, but—”
“You can have it.”
Matt frowned, beginning to sense what Sheryl was suggesting. “I hope you’re not saying what I think you are.”
“Sure I am. Marry her. She’s already in love with you—isn’t that what her daddy said? Give her what she wants, and then after a few months file for divorce.”
Matt had never heard anything more heartless. “That’s cruel.”
“Matt, she has more money than she knows what to do with. Think of the months you’re married to Margaret as a way to help her through her grieving. She needs someone and she wants you. All you’d be doing is giving her what she needs and what she wants. You’d just be … providing a service.”
Matt’s frown darkened.
“Why else do you think her daddy called you in for that little talk?” Sheryl continued persuasively. “He knew that Margaret was going to need you. In his own way, he was asking you to watch over his little girl. And once Margaret understands that, she’ll be grateful. Grateful enough to buy you the Stockert place.”
Matt didn’t like the sound of this. “Bernard warned me not to hurt her.”
“You wouldn’t be hurting her, you’d be helping her through a difficult period in her life. Think about it, Matt. Bernard practically ordered you to step in and take care of his little girl. Besides, she’s in love with you, so she’ll do whatever you ask. It’s only fair that you be compensated for what you’re giving her. You’ll just have to convince her that a year of marriage is worth the price of the Stockert place. And then … you’d have your ranch.”
He wanted Sheryl to shut up; her plan was starting to seem plausible.
“I could quit my job and then the two of us could get married….”
Matt shook his head. “Forget it,” he said. “Besides, once I married Margaret, what makes you think I’d want a divorce?”
Sheryl burst out laughing. “Two things,” she said. “First of all, we’re talking about Margaret Clemens here. She’s got about as much sex appeal as a bag of potatoes.”
Matt couldn’t really argue with that, especially when he looked at Sheryl, with her lush body, large full breasts and long legs. What he’d seen of Margaret, and that was damn little, was no comparison.
“You said two things,” he reminded her.
Sheryl’s sultry smile returned. “I’d make damn sure you wanted to come back to me,” she whispered. As if to prove herself, she showed him exactly what she meant.
Two
Minutes for the November 23rd meeting of the Buffalo Valley Town Council
As recorded by Hassie Knight, Secretary and Treasurer, duly elected.
The meeting was brought to order by council president Joshua McKenna with the Pledge of Allegiance to the American flag. Council members in attendance were Joshua McKenna, Dennis Urlacher, Heath Quantrill, Robert Carr, Gage Sinclair and Hassie Knight. Reverend Larry Dawson was an invited guest.
1. In the matter of old business, Joshua McKenna reported that a new siren has been installed by the Volunteer Fire Department. It will be used to alert the community in the event of a fire and to summon volunteers to the station. While the alarm was being tested, there were several complaints regarding the loud, piercing sound. Mrs. Summerhill, an elderly friend visiting Leta Betts, assumed the siren was an early warning of an air attack and was upset to learn there were no bomb shelters in Buffalo Valley. Joshua McKenna suggested a sign be posted informing visitors about the meaning of the siren.
2. Also in the matter of old business, it was reported that the high school will not be putting on the annual Christmas play this December, due to the birth of Mrs. Sinclair’s daughter. Gage Sinclair provided the council with the most current pictures of two-month-old Joy Leta Sinclair and reported that both mother and daughter are doing well.
3. In the matter of new business, the council officially welcomed Reverend Larry Dawson back to the community. Although his family has long since moved away, Larry has fond memories of growing up in Buffalo Valley. If all goes well, Larry and his wife, Joyce, plan to retire here. A buffet lunch was served following the meeting, catered by Bob Carr of 3 OF A KIND.
4. Joshua McKenna announced that the growth of Buffalo Valley has attracted the attention of our state government. He has been contacted by the governor’s office, inquiring what actions town council has undertaken to bring about the changes. Further to this subject, Dennis Urlacher reported that Sarah now has five full-time employees and has expanded the business into the building connected to the one she now occupies. Because Buffalo Valley Quilts is attracting not only business, but tourists, Dennis suggested a beautification program, including stone flowerpots and flags on each corner for the Fourth of July. The matter was discussed, but a vote delayed until after Christmas.
5. The meeting adjourned at twelve-thirty for the luncheon to welcome Reverend Larry Dawson.
Respectfully submitted,
Hassie Knight
“Bob! Bob!”
Merrily’s cry jolted Buffalo Bob Carr out of a deep sleep. Hearing the panic in his wife’s voice, he instantly threw aside the covers and bolted out of bed. She called him a second time but Bob was already staggering toward Axel’s bedroom. The toddler had been fussy all night and they’d taken turns comforting him. Bob felt sure the two-year-old was coming down with another ear infection. Each bout seemed to be worse than the one before.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
Merrily sat on the edge of the bed with Axel in her arms. “Look. He’s got a rash or something. What is it?”
Bob rubbed his eyes, then stared at the child in the dim light. Axel gazed up at him, his brown eyes filled with fear. Merrily was gazing at him, too, her face anxious.
Bob let out a short, abrupt laugh. “That, my dear wife, is chicken pox. Axel has chicken pox.”
Merrily framed the boy’s face between her hands and studied him intently. “Where did he get them?”
Bob shrugged. “Who knows? It’s contagious. Every kid gets chicken pox at some time or other.”
“But he’s miserable!”
Bob didn’t know much about childhood diseases, but he knew chicken pox was a common enough ailment. “I’ll go and see Hassie in the morning. I’m sure there’s something she can suggest.”
“Daddy, Daddy.” Axel stretched his arms toward Bob.
“I’ll stay with him,” Bob volunteered, knowing Merrily had been up most of the night.
“Thanks,” she whispered, and kissed Axel’s head before she handed him to Bob.
With regret Bob watched her return to their bedroom, wishing he could join her. Instead, he slipped beneath the covers in the narrow single bed and cradled Axel against his chest. The boy rested his head there and whimpered softly. “Hurt, Daddy, hurt.”
Bob pressed his hand against Axel’s forehead and noted that he didn’t have a fever. Merrily had probably already given him Tylenol. “Try to sleep,” Bob urged.
Axel nodded. “Sing the song about nannytucket.”
Grinning, he shook his head. Merrily didn’t approve of his singing off-color ditties to the boy. Especially the one that started “There once was a man from Nantucket.”
Instead he hummed a nursery rhyme the two had learned from a Barney video. Six months ago, if anyone had told him he’d willingly sit with a two-year-old to watch a purple dinosaur, Bob would have called that person a bold-faced liar.
Trusting and small, Axel nestled in his muscular arms. In the faint light, Bob ran his hand over the youngster’s head, still humming softly. He loved the boy as dearly and completely as if they shared the same blood. However, his feelings for Axel hadn’t started out that way.
Nearly four years ago Bob had been riding through Buffalo Valley on his Harley when he met Dave Ertz. Dave owned the bar and grill, which was also the town’s only hotel. He’d been trying to sell it, but when no buyers materialized, Dave—an inventive sort—had thrown a poker game with a thousand-dollar entry fee. The winner got the entire business, lock, stock and barrel. Bob won with three of a kind, hence the bar’s new name.
