Dakota Born (8 page)

“What's with the smile?” Merrily asked. “I thought you were all bent out of shape about the refrigerator going on the blink?”

“Joshua McKenna came by to tell me a teacher's been hired.”

Merrily's eyes lit up, and she threw her arms around his neck. Her kisses were the sweetest Bob had ever tasted, but he knew better than to let himself get accustomed to their flavor.

Merrily had a bad habit of disappearing.

He was finally beginning to see a pattern with her. Just when they started to get emotionally as well as physically involved, his Buffalo Gal would pack her bags and quietly vanish.

The first time it'd happened, he'd been devastated. He'd awakened one morning and been shocked to find her gone. She'd hit the road without so much as a note goodbye. The only reason he'd known she'd left of her own free will was that she'd told Hassie Knight.

On her way out of town, Merrily had dropped in at Dennis Urlacher's gas station to fill up her old wreck of a car. While she was there, she'd casually announced that it was time for her to move on. Just that abruptly, she'd left him, bewildered and sick at heart.

Three months later, she was back.

Buffalo Bob never knew from one day to the next if Merrily would be staying, but he'd grown to accept the uncertainty. He didn't know if she'd always return to him, but he realized there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Merrily had her own rules. The fact was, he loved her.

She knew he was good for a job, a room and a small salary. But she'd only let him so close to her heart, and no closer. The moment it looked like she was in danger of falling in love with him, she'd take off, like a canary fleeing its cage. Only this pretty little canary always flew back. So far, anyway. Bob had learned to keep the door open for her.

“A teacher. That's great news.” Merrily continued to hug him, then broke away. “I need to know what the special is,” she said and stepped back, tucking her fingertips in the waist of her skirt.

Buffalo Bob shuffled through the pages on his desk. He planned the menus two weeks in advance, but couldn't recall what was scheduled for that night. To his surprise, Bob had discovered he was a reasonably talented cook, but folks around here weren't looking for anything fancy. He served meat and potatoes with an occasional venture into the unusual. Well, unusual for Buffalo Valley. His spaghetti on Saturday nights sold well, chicken Caesar salad had done okay, but his Polynesian sweet and sour meatballs had been a dismal failure. And his Thai noodles—forget it.

“How about pot roast?” Merrily suggested. “With mashed potatoes and gravy.”

“Pot roast?”

“That's what my mother always served the first day of school.”

Merrily had never mentioned her mother before. That was interesting, but he wasn't entirely sure he followed her line of thinking. “It's weeks before school starts.”

“Yeah, I know, but you got a teacher so school
is
going to start. It'd be kind of a celebration.”

“Sounds good to me.” Just about anything she suggested would get a favorable response from him. He had a couple of roasts in the freezer, lots of potatoes…Why not?

Merrily sat down on the chair beside his desk and fingered the edges of a book, riffling the pages with her thumb. “Bob,” she said, not looking at him.

He glanced up. Generally Merrily didn't hang around the office much. If she wasn't tending bar or filling in as a waitress, she stayed in her room. Some days he barely saw her.

“I…” She didn't meet his eyes. “Listen, I know you aren't exactly rolling in dough.”

She wanted a loan. He could feel it coming even before she said the words. Because of the refrigerator unit, money was tight, but he didn't have the heart to refuse Merrily.

“How much?” he murmured, saving her the trouble of asking.

“How much?” she repeated with a frown. “Do you think I was coming to you for money?”

He didn't answer and wanted to kick himself at her look of pain. “I don't need a loan, Bob. In fact, I don't need anything.” She was out of the chair and his office faster than he could stop her.

“Merrily,” he called, following her as she dashed up the stairs to her room at the farthest end of the hotel. “Merrily!”

She whirled around and would have slammed the door, but he wedged it open with his foot. “What did I say?” he asked. He thought she'd come to him for money, and he'd give it to her, as much as he could, because he loved her. Because there was damn little in this world he
wouldn't
give her.

“You think I want money.”

He didn't know what to say when he saw the tears on her cheeks. “Don't you?”

“Well, sure, everyone wants money, but that wasn't what I was going to talk to you about.”

“What
were
you going to say then?” he asked patiently.

“I…I was just going to tell you that you didn't have to pay me this week.”

“Not pay you?” He wasn't sure he understood. “Why not?”

“Because!” she cried, angry all over again. “You're worried about what that repair on the refrigerator cost, and you might not have enough.”

His heart melted at her words. “You'd do that for me?”

“Yes, you idiot.”

“Oh.” For once he found himself speechless.

“Forget I offered, okay?”

Buffalo Bob shook his head. He wasn't going to forget; in fact, he was going to remember it for a very long time.

Merrily swiped the back of her hand across her face and offered him a feeble smile. “Go back to paying your bills and I'll start thawing those pot roasts.” She hurried past him on her way to the kitchen, but he reached out a hand to stop her.

Merrily glanced over her shoulder.

“Thanks,” he said.

She smiled, kissed him briefly on the lips, then ran lightly down the stairs.

 

Lindsay was delighted that her parents had decided to accompany her to Buffalo Valley. Her dad drove his truck, pulling the U-Haul trailer, while Lindsay followed behind in her own car, Mutt and Jeff, her dogs, traveling with her. They were mixed breeds, poodle and spaniel, easygoing dogs who loved car rides.

Leaving Savannah hadn't been easy for a lot of reasons, but particularly because of Monte. It'd taken several confrontations before he'd accept that he wasn't going to be able to cajole her into staying. As she prepared for her departure, he'd become angry, insisting she'd be back.

He was right, of course, but when she did return, he would be completely and totally out of her life.

Maddy had cheered her decision and even helped her pack. Lindsay knew she could count on her friend's support and encouragement during the next year. They'd parted with promises to keep in touch.

Traveling with two dogs and all her worldly possessions made for a much slower trip this time around. Six days after they left Savannah, the Snyders pulled into Buffalo Valley and parked in front of Knight's Pharmacy.

Her father climbed down from the truck and looked around as if seeing the town for the first time. His last visit had been three years earlier, when he'd come to move his father to Savannah. The trip had been quick and made in the middle of winter. Lindsay wondered just how much he'd noticed.

Hands on his hips, he stood there for a long moment. When their eyes met, Lindsay saw his doubts and worries, and she tried to reassure him with a smile. She knew what she was doing. He needn't worry about her.

Lindsay attached the leashes to Mutt and Jeff before she opened the car door. She, too, studied the town that was to be her home for the next year. It did look bleak and sad. Ever the optimist, she'd convinced herself it wasn't as shabby as she remembered. But it was. Worse, even. Still, she didn't let that dissuade her.

“Lindsay, look!” her mother said, pointing to a banner strung between Hansen's Grocery and Knight's Pharmacy.

Someone had taken an old white sheet and painted WELCOME, MISS SNYDER in bright red paint across it.

This simple greeting completely changed the grim reality of Buffalo Valley.

“Lindsay.” Hassie stepped out of the pharmacy and threw open her arms. “Welcome back.”

After hugging the older woman, Lindsay introduced her parents. “You remember my dad, don't you? This is Brian and my mother, Kathleen.”

“Brian, of course. Oh my, you do look good. Come in, come in. The whole town's been waiting for you. You made good time.” Chattering happily, Hassie ushered them inside.

Lindsay and her parents had just sat down at the soda fountain when others started to arrive. Jacob Hansen was the first. He came in from the grocery store across the street.

“We got your cupboards stocked with a few of the necessities,” he told Lindsay.

“My cupboards?”

“At the house,” he explained. “That's our way of thanking you.”

“Oh…thank
you.
” Lindsay hadn't expected anyone to do that.

“It wasn't only me and Marta,” Jacob was quick to tell her. “We had a pounding last Monday night. Practically everyone in town contributed something.”

Lindsay had never heard of such a thing and turned to her mother, who explained, “Everyone brings a pound of something to stock the kitchen.”

“How thoughtful!”

“The high-school kids repainted the inside of the house,” Hassie told her. “Did a good job, too.”

“Your grandmother had the wallpaper stripped off years ago,” her mother said. “Most homes this age were wallpapered, but your grandmother Gina liked a more modern look.”

“Joshua McKenna contributed the paint,” the grocer leaned forward to say. “You remember Joshua, don't you? He's the president of the town council.”

“But the kids picked out the color.” A tall, rather attractive brunette approached her and held out her hand. “I'm Sarah Stern, Joshua's daughter, and my Calla's going to be one of your students.”

“Hi, I'm Lindsay.” More and more people filled the pharmacy, and she raised her voice. “Like I told Hassie when I phoned to ask about the job, I've never taught school before and I'm going to need a lot of help.”

“You got it,” Buffalo Bob shouted, giving her a thumbs-up sign. “We got all-you-can-eat spaghetti tonight, and Lindsay and her folks eat for free.”

A cheer went up, and Lindsay exchanged smiles with her parents, although she couldn't help noting the hesitation in her mother's eyes when she looked at the restaurant owner.

“You need help unloading that trailer?” Lindsay's gaze fell on a man wearing a uniform shirt advertising a brand-name gasoline. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “Dennis Urlacher,” he said. “From this welcome, you can guess we're pleased to see you.”

Lindsay laughed at his comment. “Is one of your children going to be in my class, too?”

He shook his head. “I'm not married.”

Lindsay saw the way he looked at Sarah and guessed the two of them were probably an item. Romance, however, was the last thing on her mind. She'd come to recover from one unhappy episode and wasn't planning to complicate her life with another.

“We're serious about helping you unpack the trailer,” Joshua McKenna said, glancing around at his friends and neighbors. “Might as well say yes, seeing you've got this many volunteers.”

Lindsay would've preferred to relax for a few minutes before tackling that project, but her father answered for her. “We'd appreciate as much help as we can get,” he told them.

Her grandparents' house was two blocks off Main, and Lindsay walked over, leading her dogs and half the town; her father drove the truck and U-Haul, while her mother brought Lindsay's car.

“This is the closest thing we've had to a parade in years,” Hassie joked, planting herself beside Lindsay.

Rounding the corner, Lindsay saw her grandparents' house. She gasped, hardly able to believe her eyes.

The yard had been cleaned and the flower boxes planted. A row of bright red geraniums brought a flash of color to the white house. The windows sparkled, and a wicker rocker had been placed on the front porch, with a large welcome mat in front of the door.

“It was one of your grandmother's favorite spots,” Hassie whispered, sounding almost emotional.

“This is too much,” she protested.

“We wanted you to know we appreciate what you're doing,” Joshua McKenna said as he passed her, carrying the first load from the trailer.

“The fence has been repaired, too,” Lindsay said in wonder. “And it's painted and everything…”

“We didn't want your dogs to get lost,” Hassie said. “You can thank Gage Sinclair for that.”

Gage was someone Lindsay hadn't forgotten. They'd met during those few moments when he'd come into the pharmacy with his mother. Lindsay didn't think she'd ever seen such depth and character in a man's face. He was in his thirties, she'd guess, but the years couldn't have been easy ones. The tracery of fine lines at the corners of his eyes told her that. His hair, a coffee-brown, had been in need of a cut. He was deeply tanned, but this wasn't the kind of tan one got from sitting under a lamp. His tan had been baked on by long hours in the sun. It was his eyes, though, that had struck her most. They were the most incredible blue, verging on gray.