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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 but 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 part 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.”
“We’ll have to see.” He considered his brother spoiled as it was. Letting Kevin spend the next nine months in the city, being coddled by relatives, wasn’t the way to prepare him for his life as a farmer. “You didn’t mention that to him, did you?”
“No.” But she hesitated, as if there was more and whatever it was, he wouldn’t want to hear.
“What else?”
“Kevin took the truck again without telling me where he was going.”
Despite his earlier decision, Gage gave in and sank down on the top porch step. “Should be fairly obvious where he went, don’t you think?”
“Jessica’s,” his mother sighed.
His teenage brother was in love for the first time. Knowing it was his duty, Gage had assumed the unenviable task of explaining a man’s responsibility when it came to protecting a woman from pregnancy—and these days, protecting both of them from disease. Their mother wasn’t likely to hand the teenager a condom. Gage had.
At the time, Kevin had been angry and belligerent, but he’d taken the condom. Gage wasn’t fooled. Hell, it wasn’t that long ago that he’d been seventeen himself.
All summer, whenever he could, Kevin slipped away in order to be with his true love. No doubt, Jessica’s parents were as concerned about the relationship as Gage was. And about the school situation.
If the high school closed for good, Gage suspected most families would ship their teens off to live with relatives. Some would end up being home-schooled, but Gage knew his mother was right. With Kevin, it wouldn’t work. The boy was still too undisciplined to learn without the structure of classes, exams and deadlines. He preferred to spend his time drawing—or with his girlfriend.
“Hassie’s going to contact the teacher’s union about getting a replacement,” Leta told him. “That’s what they decided at the meeting.” His mother had the utmost confidence in the pharmacy owner, her closest friend. Gage’s respect for Hassie was high, but she wasn’t a miracle worker. It was nearly July and school was scheduled to start again toward the end of August. He hated to be a pessimist, but it simply wasn’t going to happen. Not at this late date. No doubt a teacher would be found eventually, but in the meantime they had no choice but to close the school.
“You have to have faith,” Leta told him, as if simply believing would make everything turn out right.
Gage nodded.
“The good Lord knows what He’s doing.”
“If that’s the case, then I wonder if He’s been paying attention to the price of grain?”
“Gage!”
He wasn’t going to argue with his own mother, but if the good Lord had any intention of finding a high-school teacher for Buffalo Valley High School, He’d better start working fast. Besides, if Gage was going to indulge in a bit of wishful thinking, he might as well add his own requirements. Send a teacher, he mused, gazing at the heavens, but not just any teacher. He wanted someone young and pretty and single. Someone smart and loving. Someone who liked kids and animals. Send a woman just for me.
He nearly laughed out loud. Talk about an imagination. He attributed the prayer, if it could be called that, to weariness, and to the fact that his little brother had probably lost his virginity that summer. No, more than that—to the fact that his brother had found someone to love, and he hadn’t.
Two
Sarah Stern waited until her father had fallen asleep in front of the television set, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. Calla, her teenage daughter, had shut herself in her room and was listening to music. Restless and worried, Sarah phoned Dennis, then paced the kitchen until she saw his headlights in the distance.
Hugging her arms about her waist, she slipped silently out of the house and ran through the open yard. When he saw her, Dennis leaned across the cab and opened the passenger door and Sarah climbed inside. “Thanks for coming,” she whispered.
