Always Dakota (18 page)

“Oh, Calla, these are perfect!”

“They’re old movies—no one ever rents them.”

“Get my purse and I’ll pay you. I wouldn’t want you to take this out of your own wages.”

“No need to do that.” Calla sat on the edge of the chair, as if she anticipated needing to make a quick escape. “Joanie told me to tell you there’s no charge. She’s been meaning to come by and visit but hasn’t had a chance.”

“That’s so sweet of her.”

Calla looked about the room and frowned. Sarah could only imagine what displeased her now.

“Is Dennis treating you any better?”

She opened her mouth to argue but decided that wouldn’t help. “He’s been his usual self.” Which was wonderful, gentle and patient, but her daughter didn’t want to hear that.

Calla snorted. “That’s what I thought.” She jumped up from the chair and went into the kitchen. “Look at this!” she cried, sounding disgusted.

“What?” Sarah called out to her.

“Did you know he stacks dirty dishes in the sink?”

Sarah was a meticulous housekeeper and no one knew that better than Calla. Before she could respond, she heard running water. Apparently her daughter had taken it upon herself to wash those unsightly dishes. Calla was more like her than she cared to admit.

The child moved within her and Sarah pressed her hands against her abdomen. “That’s your sister making all the racket out there,” she whispered. Almost five months into the pregnancy, and the baby moved quite a bit now. Sarah found it reassuring. Feeling her baby eased her worries somewhat.

“Do you want me to put in one of those movies for you?” Calla asked a few minutes later.

“Please.” Sarah was definitely in the mood to be entertained.

Calla reappeared and grabbed the top video. Using the remote control like an expert, she slipped the video into the VCR and set it on Play.

“Have you ever seen
Father Goose?
” Sarah asked as the credits rolled and the music began.

Calla shook her head, implying that any one of these movies would be completely boring to a girl her age.

“It’s quite humorous.”

The opening scenes came on, and Calla watched the first couple of minutes. “This takes place during World War II?”

Sarah nodded.

“We’re reading about that in our history class. Did you know Hassie’s husband fought in the war?”

“Yes. So did other men from this area.”

“Hassie had a son who died in Vietnam, too. His name was Vaughn. She came to talk to us last Friday and brought pictures of him. I knew she was the one who put up flags at the cemetery every Veterans’ Day, but I never really understood why.”

Sarah was sure she’d mentioned Hassie’s son at one time or another. Perhaps not.

“She had photographs of him when he was in high school. He was a really good football player. He wasn’t bad-looking, either.”

“She doesn’t talk much about Vaughn anymore,” Sarah said. “I think she still finds it too painful.”

“Hassie told us how his girlfriend stayed in touch with her for years after Vaughn died, even after she married someone else and had children. She named one of her children after him—Thomas Vaughn. That has a nice sound, doesn’t it?”

Sarah nodded.

“When she left, Mrs. Sinclair talked about the effect war has on people,” Calla said quietly.

The Friday afternoon sessions at the high school had been a real hit with the community, for a number of reasons. Lindsay regularly invited people to come in and talk to her students—about their jobs or their family histories or their interests. Sarah had spoken herself and her father had, too, more than once. Almost everyone in the community had. Farmers, cattlemen, business owners. Everyday people. Lindsay was a master at convincing folks they had something beneficial to contribute. And in doing so, she’d helped foster the town’s new and growing sense of pride.

“Would you like some popcorn?” Calla asked.

Taken aback by the question, Sarah blinked. “Sure.”

“Me, too.” She put the VCR on Pause and walked out to the kitchen.

Calla was staying? Sarah could hardly believe it. Soon the popping of kernels could be heard from the microwave in the background, and the scent drifted through the house.

Calla returned a few minutes later with a small bowl for each. “Do you have a name picked out for the baby?”

“Not yet.” Both she and Dennis had gone around and around about names. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Me?”

“Sure, you might as well put in your two-cents’ worth,” Sarah said. “Everyone else has.”

Calla munched on her popcorn, seemingly deep in thought. “I’d suggest that if it’s a girl you name her after Grandma, but Jeb and Maddy beat you to the punch.”

“I thought of that already.”

“What about Denise? Isn’t that the female form of Dennis?” Calla asked with a sneer. “Doesn’t he want to name the baby after himself?”

Sarah ignored the sarcasm. “Denise…” she murmured, trying to come up with a middle name.

“Denise Sarah,” Calla threw out. “Might as well get your name in there, too.”

“What about a boy’s name?”

Calla mulled that over for a moment, then said, “I’ve always liked the name Joseph.”

Sarah wasn’t fooled. Calla was thinking about Joe Lammermann, who’d been her first love. She hadn’t mentioned him much lately, but Sarah knew her daughter still cared for Joe. Through the grapevine, Sarah had learned that Calla and Joe had both showed up at the Sweetheart Dance without dates and then spent most of the night dancing with each other. She’d also heard from her father that they’d gone out to the movies one evening last week.

“I’ve been dating Joe again—well, sort of dating him.” This information was offered casually.

“You always did have a soft spot in your heart for him.”

“A soft spot in my head, you mean,” Calla muttered. “I promised myself that if Joe ever asked me out again, I’d take real pleasure in rejecting him. Then he called to invite me to a movie and I couldn’t say
yes
fast enough. Sometimes I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said in disgust.

“The same thing that’s wrong with most of us when it comes to men,” Sarah said wryly. Calla nodded without comment and pressed Play, as though to end a conversation that was becoming too personal.

They were silent for a few minutes as the movie began again. Soon they were both laughing.

“This isn’t such a bad movie,” Calla commented, sounding surprised.

“It’s actually pretty wonderful,” Sarah added, glancing from the television screen to her daughter.

Calla’s visit felt like a gift to Sarah, an unexpected and welcome surprise. The baby moved, this time for several moments as if exploring his or her cramped space. As Sarah cradled her stomach, she noticed Calla staring at her, but she said nothing.

The movie was almost over when Dennis returned from work. He saw Calla in the living room with Sarah and stopped short. “Hello,” he said cautiously.

“Hi.” Calla’s greeting was equally stiff. “I brought my mother a few videos.”

He looked at Sarah and she saw the merest hint of a smile. “I heard you were working for Joanie,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said and stood. “I’d better be going.”

“Don’t let me rush you off,” Dennis told her. “I’ve got to shower and then make something for dinner. Stay as long as you like.”

Calla wavered, visibly unsure about what she should do. “I’ll just watch the end of the movie.”

Before Dennis turned away, his eyes caught Sarah’s and he winked. Humming, he walked down the hallway to the bathroom, wearing a huge grin.

There were already hints of spring, and it wouldn’t be long before the first calves of the season arrived. When Margaret woke Monday morning, she suggested they work on cleaning out and preparing the calving barn. Matt agreed. After breakfast, they started, working side by side, laughing and teasing one another.

“How many calves have you delivered?” Margaret asked.

Matt doubted it was as many as his wife. He was about to answer when Sadie appeared, looking more than a little displeased.

“Phone call,” she said in that spiritless monotone of hers. “For you,” she added, pointing at Matt.

Matt could easily guess who the call was from.

Sheryl.

“Take a message,” he said curtly.

“Who is it?” Margaret wanted to know, staring from her housekeeper back to Matt.

“The call is for Mr. Eilers,” Sadie responded diplomatically.

“Matt?” Margaret looked at him. “Problems?”

“No,” he muttered, and without another word, followed Sadie toward the house. His steps were heavy with dread. When he hadn’t heard from Sheryl for several weeks, he’d hoped that meant she’d accepted his decision. Apparently not.

The phone was just inside the kitchen, and by the time he reached it, he was furious.

“Hello!” he half yelled as he picked up the receiver.

“Matt…”

It was Sheryl, all right, and hearing her voice was enough to set him off.

“What does it take, Sheryl? I can’t be any more blunt than I was before. There’s nothing between us and there won’t be in the future. Don’t call here again, understand?”

“But, Matt—”

He didn’t wait to hear her response; instead he slammed down the phone. Sadie stood with her back to him, slicing vegetables, but Matt knew she’d heard every word. Good. He wanted the housekeeper to realize he wasn’t cheating on his wife.

“Sadie.”

She turned and for the first time since he’d married Margaret, he thought he saw her smile. “I told you before, if Sheryl phones again, hang up on her.”

“Hang up?” The housekeeper gave him a sour look. “I didn’t know if you meant it or if that was just for show.”

“I meant it, all right. Would you please do as I ask?”

Sadie muttered an unintelligible response, and Matt wondered, not for the first time, if the woman was trying to make trouble.

Margaret was waiting for him when he returned to the calving barn. “Who was that on the phone, Matt?” she demanded the moment he walked into the stall he’d been hosing down with antiseptic.

“Just now?” he hedged.

“Of course just now!” She scowled. “It was a woman, wasn’t it?”

He was tempted to lie. That would have been an easy out, but then he remembered what Margaret had said—she considered him an honorable and decent man. He felt obliged to live up to that, even if it cost him. He lowered his gaze and nodded.

Margaret didn’t say anything else, simply turned her back and continued to work.

“It’s not like it sounds…” Matt tried, hating the look of hurt and disappointment in her eyes, hating the way her shoulders slumped forward. “I was hoping you’d hear me out.”

“Answer me another question first,” she insisted, slamming the pitchfork into the ground.

“All right,” he said, determined to be as forthright with her as he’d been with Sheryl.

“Is this the same woman you went to see a little while back?”

The question caught him off guard. So much so, that he literally took a step in retreat. Margaret knew he’d driven to Devils Lake to see Sheryl? It was the first she’d mentioned it.

“You think I didn’t smell her on you?”

“Ah…” He’d worried about that.

“Wasn’t I supposed to figure out why you suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to take a shower the instant you walked in the house?”

She had him there.

“What’s her full name?” Margaret asked. “Sheryl what?”

“Margaret, listen…”

“Don’t give me excuses.” She was stiff with anger. Rarely had Matt seen her in such a rage. If he didn’t watch out, she was liable to stab him with the pitchfork.

“Her name’s Sheryl Decker.”

“Sheryl Decker,” she repeated as if the sound of it was repugnant. “Did you sleep with her, too?”

“No.” His response was immediate. From the moment he’d taken his wedding vows, he’d been faithful to Margaret.

“Do you love her?”

“I swear to you that I don’t.”

“Then why’s she calling you?”

“I don’t know,” he cried, and it was the truth. “I don’t
want
to know. I didn’t talk to her just now and I won’t. I told her not to call here again and I slammed the phone in her ear. You can ask Sadie if you don’t believe me.” He didn’t entirely trust the housekeeper, but surely she wouldn’t tell an outright lie. “I swear to you I didn’t sleep with her.”

Margaret blinked a couple of times, her face vulnerable, uncertain.

He held out his palms, silently imploring her to believe in him.

Margaret cast down her eyes. “I don’t like this feeling,” she said, her voice low.

“What feeling?” If he could get her to talk about it, perhaps they could come to an understanding. He desperately wanted her to believe him, needed her to. She was the only woman who’d ever really loved him. The one thing she’d asked of him was that he marry her. Even then, she seemed to think
he
was doing
her
the favor. That was incredible enough, but then he stopped to consider what she’d brought into the marriage—the cattle, the land, the house and everything else. It was more than Matt had expected to accumulate in a lifetime.