Always Dakota (15 page)

“I’m proud of you for not settling for second best.”

He’d been tempted a number of times to search out another woman, especially when it seemed Rachel wasn’t interested in him.

“You’ve made me proud in more ways than one, Heath,” she continued. “I’m confident that Buffalo County Bank will prosper with you as president.” Her eyes were steadfast on his.

“President?”

“You’re ready. You have been for a long time.”

Heath looked at Rachel. They’d decided, because of her restaurant and Mark’s school, to make their home in Buffalo Valley. His grandmother was moving him into the leadership of the bank, and the head office wasn’t in Buffalo Valley. Such a promotion would mean many long hours on the road, commuting to and from Grand Forks, not to mention the other eight branches across the state.

His frown must have said it all.

“Your grandfather and I started the business in Buffalo Valley,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Yes, Grandma,” he murmured, “I know that. But things are different now….”

Her smile was fleeting. “You’ll figure it out. Michael and I did, all those years ago.” Her eyes were tired and slowly drifted closed. “Now I think it’s time I went home.”

Long past time, but Heath had already said so earlier. As it was, she seemed to have fallen asleep in her wheelchair.

“Heath?” Rachel joined him. He stood and slid his arm around his bride’s waist, taken aback once again by her beauty. “Lily’s tired,” he whispered. “She needs to go home.”

Rachel pressed her head to his shoulder. “Perhaps you’d better see her out.”

“You don’t mind?” He hated to leave his wife of only a few hours. She’d been more than patient already.

“Lily needs you.”

Grateful for Rachel’s understanding, Heath kissed her cheek and accompanied his grandmother to the car the home had sent for her. Not allowing the attendant to place her in the vehicle, Heath gently lifted her from the chair himself and set her inside.

As the car pulled away from the curb, it occurred to him that he was now officially the president of Buffalo County Bank. For nearly three years, he’d served on the board of directors, sat in on meetings, offered his recommendations. Apparently his grandmother was confident that he was ready to take over.

This was no small matter. In his hands she’d placed fifty years of banking history and the future of one of the largest financial institutions in the state. Along with faith, love and trust, she’d presented him with a huge personal dilemma.

“You’re a crafty little devil,” he whispered aloud. “Your favorite relative, am I?” Then the laughter came, bubbling up inside him. He was her
only
relative. And he doubted very much that he’d
always
been her favorite, as she’d claimed. Still, that made no difference. He adored Lily Quantrill as much as he ever had—more—and was thankful for the influence she’d had on his life.

Rachel was waiting for him when Heath returned to the reception. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

Heath nodded. “Just fine,” he said, and unable to resist, he kissed her.

“How much longer do you think we’re going to have Lily?” Rachel asked.

Heath shrugged; he’d been wondering the same thing all evening.

The question was answered a week later when Lily Quantrill died quietly in her sleep.

I
t soon became apparent to Matt that Sheryl had no intention of staying out of his life. Sadie took considerable delight in letting him know his “girlfriend” continued to phone the house. Her pinched lips suggested it was all she could do to keep her opinions to herself.

“If she calls again, hang up on her,” Matt instructed.

“Very well,” Sadie returned flippantly. Everything the housekeeper said and did spoke of her disapproval. If it was up to him, he’d fire the woman, but she’d been with the family for years, and Margaret felt a strong loyalty toward her.

“I think you should know she isn’t going to give up easily,” Sadie told him. This was the day after his confrontation with Margaret, and Matt was particularly sensitive to the subject of Sheryl—and sick of it. “She wanted me to tell you that if you didn’t see her soon, you’d regret it,” the housekeeper intoned with far too much pleasure.

Great. It’d come down to threats, had it? Matt didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. Margaret wasn’t a woman who’d casually accept a dalliance on his part. Not that he had any desire to cheat on his wife.

In fact, this entire marriage had turned out to be a shock. He’d respected and liked Margaret when he’d married her, but he hadn’t really
known
her. He’d discovered since that every day with her was an adventure. The best kind of adventure. Not only did she know cattle and ranching, but she was one hell of a worker. She put in twelve-hour days without complaint, working as hard and long as he did. There was something about having a partner, an equal partner, that lightened the load and allowed him to find enjoyment in ordinary things. At night Margaret proved she was one hell of a woman, too. She’d been a virgin when they got married, but her appetite for the physical side of marriage was strong and inventive.

When he married Margaret Clemens, Matt hadn’t known what he was getting. He hadn’t expected to acquire a knowledgeable and intelligent partner any more than he’d anticipated finding a best friend. That was what Margaret had become. His wife, his partner and his best friend.

The first week of February, Sadie fended off two more calls from Sheryl. Matt knew the housekeeper had reached the end of her limited tolerance when she pulled him aside to suggest he “take care” of the situation. For once Matt found himself agreeing with the woman. Enough was enough. He decided to talk to Sheryl himself and put a stop to her harassment.

Late the following afternoon, when Margaret went over to visit Maddy McKenna, Matt hopped in the pickup and headed into Devils Lake. This was better done in person; he’d settle matters with Sheryl and when he was finished, there’d be no room for doubt. Whatever had once been between them was long over. He was married now and he wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone else.

He would never have believed Sheryl was capable of this. The closer he got to Devils Lake, the angrier he became.

Pulling into the parking lot at the truck stop, he saw that the place was crowded. Five o’clock on a Friday—he should have known it would be. Although the bar and grill catered to truckers, it was a favorite watering hole. The locals often came by for a reasonably priced dinner and a couple of beers to wash it down.

The bar was filled with cigarette smoke so thick it stung his eyes. He thought he saw Sheryl by the bar and he edged past a burly cowhand to get there.

“Matt!”

He whirled around to see Sheryl’s friend, although for the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name.

He shouldered his way over to the waitress, who wore a cowgirl outfit with a too-short skirt and a fringed vest. “Sheryl’s going to be so happy to see you,” she said as Matt reached her. “Stay here and I’ll find her for you.”

He was close to the bar, and would have stepped up to it and ordered a beer if there’d been room. On second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, since he didn’t intend to stay any longer than necessary.

“Matt.” Before he had time to respond, Sheryl hurled herself into his arms. “I knew you’d come. I told Lee Ann you’d come by and I was right.” Her heavily made-up face was bright with happiness.

“We need to talk,” Matt said, tugging her arms free from his neck. He surveyed the room and realized it would be impossible to hold a private conversation.

Sheryl seemed to realize the same thing. “Follow me,” she said, and when he hesitated, she reached for his hand, linking their fingers. She led him behind the bar, pausing long enough to lean forward and whisper something to the bartender. The other man glanced at Matt, frowned, then reluctantly nodded.

“Sam said we could talk in his office,” Sheryl said, dragging Matt through the kitchen.

He walked past two chefs and the stove, obediently following Sheryl. Still, he argued with himself every step of the way. What he had to tell her would only take a minute. He’d rehearsed his statement on the drive in: They’d shared a short-term relationship that was mutually enjoyable while it lasted, but it was over. It’d been over well before he married Margaret, he’d tell Sheryl, and he’d explain that he planned to honor his marriage vows.

Sheryl turned to smile at him. She opened the office door and laughing, yanked him inside, closing the door after him. The room was pitch-dark. His back was against the wall, and before Matt had a chance to find his bearings, Sheryl’s arms were around him.

“Oh, Matt,” she cried. “I’ve missed you so damn much.” She moved against him, seducing him with her body, kissing him while her breasts massaged his chest.

“Sheryl…”

He wasn’t allowed to finish. Her mouth was all over his, open, moist, insistent. He jerked his head back and forth, but all that did was encourage her. Backed against the wall, he couldn’t easily pull away.

“Tell me you’ve missed me. I need to hear it,” she begged.

“Sheryl, stop!”

“No,” she whimpered, “I need you so much.” Sheryl’s hands were busy in the dark, tugging his shirt free of his waist. Then she was rubbing her palms up his bare chest.

“Stop!” he shouted, gripping her hard by the shoulders, finally disengaging her with a shove.

Breathing hard, Sheryl went still.

“I don’t want to do this,” he told her, struggling to hold back his irritation.

“I know this isn’t the ideal place to make love, but I’m so hungry for you, I—”

“I’m not making love to you, Sheryl. I’m married now.”

He heard her sigh. “Don’t I know it. But that doesn’t have to change anything. Not with you and me. We have an understanding.”

“No, we don’t.”

“You don’t mean that,” she insisted, sounding close to tears.

By this time, Matt’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, but he still had trouble making out details. He felt behind him for a light switch. Nothing.

“You want me,” Sheryl whispered. “Your body tells me you do.” As if to prove her point, she started to unbuckle his belt. He stopped her.

“Like I said, it’s over. Don’t call me again.”

“Oh, am I causing problems between you and Margaret?” she asked in a falsely sweet voice.

“The only person you’re causing problems with is the housekeeper.”

Sheryl obviously thought that was a joke and laughed softly. “Okay, okay, but I had to see you.”

“No, you didn’t. And like I said, I don’t want you phoning the Triple C again.”

“It got you here, didn’t it?”

Matt groaned, understanding her game. She intended to use those phone calls to blackmail him. Either he went along with her little scheme or she’d continue making trouble for him.

“Come on, Matt, give me what I want.” Her arms began to slither around his neck.

He closed his hands on her wrists and wrenched himself free before she could kiss him again. As it was, he feared the heavy scent of her perfume would cling to him. He didn’t want to think how Margaret would react if she happened to catch a whiff of that. His sole purpose in being here was to get Sheryl out of their lives, not to create more problems.

“I mean it,” he growled. “Don’t call me again.”

“You can’t be serious.” Her voice held a sharp edge.

Good! Maybe she’d finally believe him. “I’m not the right man for you.”

“The hell you aren’t,” she snapped. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our plan.”

“Plan? We didn’t have any plan.”

“You were going to marry Margaret, and then divorce her in a year and marry me.”

Matt shook his head firmly. That he’d even listened to anything so outrageous nauseated him.

“You married her, and there’s no way in hell you’ll ever convince me you did it for love.”

“I’m not divorcing Margaret,” he insisted. “Certainly not for you.”

Matt winced as Sheryl swore, using language he’d rarely heard, even from the toughened cowhands. “You can’t cut me out of this now,” she yelled.

He was astounded—she honestly believed he’d followed through with her callous scheme. “It’s over, Sheryl,” he said quietly. “Way over.”

“That’s what
you
think,” she said in vicious tones. “We haven’t even started yet. No one double-crosses me. No one. You’re going to be sorry you did this, Matthew Eilers.”

“Yeah, whatever, but I’m telling you for the last time that I’m not going to let you blackmail me. If you’re thinking of telling Margaret about our so-called plan, then feel free. She knew I didn’t love her when we got married. And you know what? It doesn’t matter to her. Nothing you say now will make one bit of difference.” Not caring if he stumbled over furniture, he blindly moved forward, arms outstretched. With a minimum of fuss he located the door, and jerked it open.

Squinting against the bright hallway light, he hurried through the kitchen and bar, eager to make his escape. He regretted ever coming to Devils Lake. The first thing he wanted to do when he got home was have a long, hot shower—to wash every trace of Sheryl from his skin.

If only he could as easily remove her from his life.

The biggest news in Buffalo Valley after the first of the year, Calla learned, was that Joanie and Brandon Wyatt were opening a video rental store. He’d continue to farm, and Joanie would manage the store. Apparently they’d been able to buy the inventory of another store in a nearby town, one that was going out of business. In addition to renting videos, Joanie would be carrying a number of craft items, such as knitting yarn and cross-stitch supplies.

The new store created quite a buzz. Calla enjoyed crafts and actually showed a talent for that kind of activity, which she supposed wasn’t surprising, since her mother was artistic. The one bright spot about attending school in Minneapolis had been the drama class and her work designing and sewing costumes. Her projects had received high grades and lots of praise.

The very best thing about the video store was that Joanie hired Calla part-time. Calla loved it. She could have spent her entire paycheck on craft supplies. In fact, the first week she collected her pay, she discovered she actually owed the store money.

Between her job and school, with the extra assignments Mrs. Sinclair had given her in order to make up the credits she’d lost while living in Minneapolis, Calla didn’t have time to worry about her mother. They’d talked maybe twice since she’d moved back, but their conversations had been stilted and uncomfortable. Calla had the impression her mother was glad to be rid of her.

Not that it mattered. She lived with her grandfather, and that was working out all right. Without her mother to see to his meals and the other household duties, Joshua McKenna was in pretty sad shape. He needed her, and frankly Calla needed him. Not only that, life with Gramps was a thousand times better than it’d been at her father’s. Calla wouldn’t even consider living with her mother and Dennis. No, the situation at her grandfather’s house was fine; it suited them both.

Friday afternoon, Calla was leaving the video store when she ran into Joe Lammermann. She played it cool with Joe these days. He kept his distance from her, too, although he was friendly whenever they happened to meet.

“How’s it going?” he asked, stopping in front of her. He wore a too-big jacket and a knit cap that fit over his ears. He’d grown taller since she’d left and now stood a full head higher than Calla.

“All right,” she responded without a lot of enthusiasm.

“You thinking about going to the Sweetheart Dance this year?”

“I guess so,” she said with a casual shrug. If he was inviting her to attend the dance with him, he’d left it till the last minute. Either it’d taken him that long to find the courage, or she wasn’t his first choice. She found neither option acceptable.

“I thought I’d go,” Joe muttered.

“Great. I’ll probably see you there.” She stepped around him and moved on without giving him the opportunity to invite her, if that had indeed been his intention.

With her spirits high—Joe was still interested in her!—Calla walked over to Knight’s Pharmacy. She was out of mascara.

“Hi, Hassie,” she called as she came through the door. The pharmacist stood at the back, behind the counter where she filled prescriptions.

“Hey, Calla,” Hassie greeted her. “Good to see you. Listen, could I impose on you to do me a favor?”