Always Dakota (20 page)

“Hello there, Matt,” Hassie said in a friendly voice when he walked through the pharmacy’s glass door, past a couple on their way out. “What can I do for you?”

He ambled over to the soda fountain and sat down. “I heard you make an exceptional soda. I’ve been meaning to try it,” he said, hoping not to give himself away. He didn’t need Hassie reporting to Margaret that he’d come in looking drawn and worried.

“That I do,” she agreed, striding around the counter. “Business has been good the last few days with Bob gone.”

“Do you have anything stronger than root beer?” Might as well ask.

“Afraid not.” She reached for a tall glass. “So, you interested in one of my famous sodas?”

“Sure,” he agreed. Why not?

“You’re not such a bad guy,” she said casually, bending forward to scoop up the ice cream.

Matt could have asked her what she meant, but he wasn’t in a talkative mood. Not today. Once he had his soda, he’d make sure Hassie knew he was looking for privacy.

“A lot of us had our doubts when you married Margaret.”

Matt could well imagine. “She’s one helluva woman,” he said, wanting Hassie to know he appreciated his wife. Okay, so Margaret had her faults. He laid claim to a fair share of his own.

“Where is she?” Hassie asked.

Matt lowered his eyes, wishing he could come up with some plausible reason for being in town while Margaret was busy at the ranch, fighting the cold and wind as she and a couple of the hands rode across the north and east pastures, checking for early calves.

He stared up at Hassie and realized she was waiting for him to answer. “She’s home…I had to come into town for a doctor’s appointment.” That much was true. He’d told Margaret the same thing.

“Like I was saying,” Hassie continued as she assembled the soda. “I’m really pleased about the way things have turned out between you two.”

“I’m pleased myself,” Matt said, just to be conversational.

“I’ve always been fond of Margaret. Her daddy used to bring her into town, back when she was a little girl.”

Matt listened, wondering what his wife had been like as a child.

“She used to try to imitate Bernard’s walk. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She dressed just like him.”

Still did for that matter, Matt mused, grinning to himself. He’d never known a woman more comfortable in coveralls, but it was what she wore underneath that enthralled him.

“I’m not sure how well you knew Bernard Clemens.”

Matt wished now that he’d had the opportunity to know Margaret’s father. He felt sure he would have enjoyed a friendship with the man.

“His wife, Maggie, was nearly twenty years his junior and as pretty as a picture. I remember when he brought her into town the first time. He was the envy of every man in the county. Maggie was a gentle creature, very elegant and refined. It damn near killed him when she died.” She shook her head. “I don’t think he ever recovered from her death.”

Matt’s heart ached for the father-in-law he’d only briefly met. “He had Margaret.”

“That he did. And to give him credit, he did the best he could with her, but I’ve often wondered what her life would have been like had her mother lived.”

One thing was certain: she wouldn’t be married to Matt.

“It’s worked out for her, though.”

Caught up in his own thoughts, Matt had lost track of the conversation. “Beg your pardon?”

“For Margaret,” Hassie said as she set the bubbling soda in front of him.

“What’s worked out for her?” he asked.

“Well…you fell in love with her, didn’t you?”

Her words hit him like a fist in the face and he blinked back his surprise. Circumstances being what they were, he didn’t feel he’d done Margaret any favors. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” he murmured.

Hassie gently patted his hand. “You love her.”

Matt nearly swallowed the straw.
Love Margaret?
He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the old woman knew that he didn’t.

“You seem a little shocked,” she said, apparently finding his reaction amusing. “But you couldn’t hide your feelings if you tried. She’s got you, Matt Eilers, hook, line and sinker.”

Until Hassie said it aloud, Matt hadn’t thought about it, but she was right. “I do love her,” he said, and found it only slightly amazing that the first person he told was a busybody old-lady pharmacist.

The person who deserved to hear this was Margaret. The woman he loved. His wife.

“We can’t put it off much longer,” Rachel said, finishing her breakfast coffee.

Heath nodded, wandering into the living room. He knew his wife was right, but he didn’t think he was emotionally capable of sorting through his grandmother’s things. She’d been gone two months, and he was only now becoming accustomed to her loss.

For three years, he’d talked with her on a daily basis. Until the very end, she’d been involved in the business. Countless times Heath had gone to his grandmother for advice and guidance. She’d shown him that he possessed every bit as much financial sense as Max, although she’d rarely mentioned his brother’s name. There’d been a valid reason for that.

Neither Lily nor Heath would ever forget Max—that would have been impossible—but his older brother’s death remained a painful subject for them.

Max had been the one with the brains. The brother who’d been groomed from his school days to take over the bank. Then, in an instant, Max was gone.

Heath had hurried home to North Dakota.

Lily hadn’t been easy on him during those early years. The first thing she’d done was appoint him loan manager at Buffalo Valley. In the beginning he’d been insulted. Outraged. He was the only surviving heir, and his grandmother had sent him to work at a minor branch in a town that was all but dead. Every farmer in the area needed money. It was a terrible position to find himself in, and after a few months he’d hardened his heart. Being appointed to this less-than-desirable job had been a punishment, he guessed, for having left, for not allowing her to control his life the way she had Max’s. They’d started off on hard ground, the two of them, but Heath soon recognized that Lily was teaching him some of the most important lessons he’d ever learn about the banking business.

“I can help if you want,” Rachel said, coming into the living room and sitting across from him. “But you really need to do this soon.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t put it off any longer,” Heath replied without enthusiasm. The retirement center had already packed up everything in Lily’s small apartment and Heath had stored it all in the large basement of his parents’ home. He’d eventually be selling the place but wasn’t ready to let it go quite yet.

“So do you want me there?” Rachel stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Heath breathed in her familiar scent and realized that having her with him was important. He not only wanted her company, he needed it.

His stepson had spent the night with a friend and wasn’t coming home until late in the afternoon, which gave him and Rachel at least half a day. They drove into Grand Forks, chatting as they went.

Midmorning they arrived at the family home. Until their wedding, he’d been living in this very house and he still maintained it, but most of the time he stayed in Buffalo Valley with Rachel and Mark.

Cartons were stacked all about the recreation room in the house’s daylight basement. “Where would you like to start?” Rachel asked, hands on her hips. She’d pinned her hair up and wore faded blue jeans, ready to tackle the work with the same energy she brought to everything else.

Heath glanced at the first stack of boxes. There was no need to keep Lily’s clothes, which he intended to pass on to a charitable organization. But he wanted to be sure he wasn’t unintentionally giving away something personal.

They worked silently for an hour before Rachel commented, “Look, this box has your name on it.”

“Mine?” Heath didn’t think he’d left behind anything of importance when he’d gone to Europe.

“Aren’t you curious?”

He had to admit he was. He lifted it down and slit open the sealed top with a knife, then peeled back the cardboard. To his amazement, he discovered an assortment of expensive leather-bound scrapbooks. His name was embossed in gold on the cover of each one.

“These are yours?” Rachel asked.

“No.” Heath had never seen them before. He opened the top book and his breath caught at the newspaper photograph on the first page. He was in his high-school basketball uniform; he and three other players were grinning wildly, clutching a trophy.

“Heath,” Rachel breathed in awe. “Is that you?”

They sat down together and flipped through the pages. Each one showed Heath. If not a picture or an item from the local newspaper, then the school paper. Every program of every game he’d ever played was there. High school and college.

“I had no idea you were a sports star,” Rachel said, smiling at him.

Heath didn’t remember being especially talented; certainly he wasn’t the star. He’d been a member of the team and a hardworking athlete, but he hadn’t sought the glory.

“Your mother kept these scrapbooks?”

Heath suspected she hadn’t. Most likely it’d been Lily.

When he didn’t respond, Rachel tucked her arm through his. “Lily?”

He nodded. The second book revealed every letter and postcard he’d mailed home. Lily had kept them all. Treasured each one. All this time, all these years, she’d loved him. It shouldn’t have come as such a shock, but it did. For much of his adult life, Heath had considered himself the black sheep of the family. The one who didn’t fit in and probably never would. Max, his intelligent, perfect-in-every-way brother, had been the Quantrills’ golden boy.

Then Heath recalled his wedding day and those few minutes when he’d stolen away to be with Lily. She’d been weak, growing more and more feeble. He remembered her taking his hand and whispering, telling him he’d always been her favorite.

Heath had listened with skepticism, considered her words the rambling of an old woman at the end of her life, holding on, clinging to her family. But she
had
loved him, loved him from the first, long before he was ready to accept that love.

If it hadn’t been for Max’s passing, he might never have known.

M
argaret knew something was terribly wrong with Matt. She sensed it. Felt it in every pore, every nerve, especially when she lay in his arms. As always, he was loving and attentive, but a part of him was missing—that was the only way she could describe it. Lacking confidence, she assumed the problem, whatever it might be, originated with her. If not, perhaps that other woman was somehow involved; she was afraid to find out, afraid of what it would do to her and Matt. To their marriage. For the first time in her life, she felt like a coward.

The only person Margaret could talk to was Maddy. She couldn’t stand this silent tension between her and Matt. It terrified her.

Not bothering to drive over, Margaret saddled Midnight, a favorite gelding, gaining purpose as she rode, her face to the wind, her shoulders hunched. The cold stung her eyes, and her lips were badly chapped, but she hardly noticed. She’d entered this marriage convinced that her love for Matt was the only thing that mattered. As long as he was her husband, she’d believed she could accept whatever happened. Naturally she’d hoped that one day he’d love her, too.

When they were first married, everything had gone so well, but lately—in the past couple of weeks—she felt she’d failed both Matt and herself. The worst of it was not knowing what she’d done or why Matt had closed her out. Outwardly he behaved as if their lives were the same as always, which made it difficult for Margaret to broach the subject.

“Hi, Margaret!” Maddy called out from just inside the kitchen. She’d scooped Julianne into her arms, and the child gurgled happily in greeting.

“I shouldn’t have come unannounced.” Margaret felt a bit awkward now that she was here. “I…I could come back later.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m dying for company and Jeb’s out with the bison.” She steered Margaret toward the kitchen table and buckled Julianne into her high chair.

Margaret should be with her own herd. Matt was probably wondering where she’d vanished, and why. Not wanting him to worry, she’d told Sadie where she was, asking her to pass the message on. Margaret didn’t think she could face Matt herself. Not right now.

“How about tea?” Maddy asked, already filling the kettle and setting it on the burner.

“Sure,” Margaret answered.

“I baked cookies this morning. We’ll indulge in those, too,” Maddy said as she brought down two cups and saucers from the high cupboard.

“That’d be nice,” Margaret said politely. Some emotion must have echoed in her voice because Maddy abruptly turned around.

“I take it this isn’t a social call?”

Margaret shrugged.

“What’s wrong?” Being the good friend she was, Maddy abandoned her task and moved to Margaret’s side, taking the chair across from her. She clasped Margaret’s hands in her own.

“If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn’t be here,” she snapped, and instantly regretted her outburst. “Maddy…something’s not right between Matt and me, and I don’t know what it is.”

Maddy stared at her in silence for a moment, eyes narrowing at the pain and confusion Margaret didn’t bother to hide.

The kettle started to whistle, and Maddy quickly rose and tended to it. She let the tea steep, then poured it and brought the cups to the table. Margaret said nothing all this time, sunk in her own misery. Maddy slowly stirred in a heaping teaspoon of sugar, still frowning.

“I’m positive Matt’s keeping something from me. At first I thought it had to do with a woman, but now I’m not sure,” Margaret finally said. “I’ve asked him what’s wrong, and he just tells me I’m imagining things.”

“You aren’t.”

“I know I’m not,” she muttered.

“Trust your instincts,” Maddy said. “But what could he be holding back? Do you have any idea?”

“The only thing I can think of…” She hesitated, afraid to even say the words aloud. “There might be another woman.”

Maddy’s eyes widened. “You mentioned something about a woman.”

Margaret nodded. “She was phoning the house for a while.”

“No longer?”

Margaret shook her head, then quickly lowered her eyes. “Matt came home one afternoon, smelling of perfume.”

“Did you ask him about it?”

“Not right away, but he swore all he’d done was tell her to leave him the hell alone.”

“You believe him?”

Call her a fool, but she did. Once more Margaret nodded.

“Whatever’s wrong will eventually come out,” Maddy said. “If you trust him, and you say you do—”

“Yes, but…” Margaret stopped and bit her lower lip.

“But what? Are you afraid this is all tied to some lacking on your part?” Maddy asked gently.

“Yes!” Margaret was astonished that Maddy knew her so well. “I’m afraid I’m not woman enough to keep him happy.”

“Nonsense!”

“But—”

“Don’t allow your own insecurities to blind you to what’s really happening. I’m pretty sure this has nothing to do with you. Men aren’t very good at sharing their troubles—unlike women. Most of them prefer to handle things alone, at least in my experience. In his own male way, Matt is asking for space and time. Men seem to need that. Step back and give it to him.”

“But—” Stepping back was the last thing Margaret intended to do. She wanted to hog-tie her husband and not release him until he told her what was wrong. She wanted Maddy to advise her to confront him—until she suddenly realized the wisdom of what her friend was telling her.

“You love him, you trust him,” Maddy said simply. “Now prove it.”

Margaret exhaled a deep sigh. Already she felt better.

“I was talking to Hassie about Matt the other day,” Maddy continued. “Hassie mentioned the positive changes she’s seen in him since the two of you got married.”

“What kind of changes?”

“First, Matt used to spend a lot of time away from his ranch. If he wasn’t at Buffalo Bob’s, then he was drinking in Devils Lake. That’s not to say he wasn’t a hardworking rancher, but he didn’t let his responsibilities stand in the way of a good time.”

Margaret couldn’t say anything in his defense because it was true.

“He used to be a real loner, although he certainly had acquaintances—mostly in bars. He’s a lot friendlier now, much more part of the community.”

Margaret had noted that herself.

“Those are only a few. But it’s the changes I’ve seen in
you
that I mentioned to Hassie,” Maddy surprised her by adding.

Margaret pressed her hand over her heart and attempted a smile. “Me?”

“There’s a softness in you I’ve never seen before,” Maddy said. “A…sweetness.”

“Sweet? Me?” Margaret was ready to laugh out loud and would have, if not for the challenging look from her friend.

“It’s true! Oh, Margaret, you mean to say you don’t see it? I do. So does Hassie. Marriage is what’s made the difference. When you announced that you were marrying Matt, I have to tell you I had my doubts. I prayed you were making the right decision. Without even thinking, I could come up with a dozen men who would, in my opinion, have made you a better husband.”

“But I love Matt!”

“I realized that. Which is why I knew it wouldn’t do any good to try to change your mind.”

Margaret couldn’t argue. She wanted Matt and no other husband.

“Actually I’d planned to phone you later in the week,” Maddy said. “Jeb and I wanted to invite you and Matt over for dinner next weekend.”

Margaret felt her heart lighten. “Yes…I mean I’ll ask Matt to make sure he doesn’t have a conflict, but it should be fine.” This was exactly what Margaret had hoped would happen. She yearned to be like other couples, to make close friends in the community, to belong.

Not long after she finished her tea, Margaret returned to the house, looking forward to telling Matt about the McKennas’ invitation. When he saw her, Matt immediately came out from the barn to meet her.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, although Margaret suspected he already knew.

“I went to Maddy’s for tea,” she said, as if it was a very womanly thing to do and she regularly took part in such activities.

“You might have mentioned it.”

“I might have,” she agreed as she led Midnight into the barn and unsaddled him. “In fact, I asked Sadie to let you know.”

Hands in his hip pockets, Matt followed her as she went about her tasks of rubbing down the gelding and feeding him oats.

“I didn’t talk to Sadie,” he muttered.

“Well, it’s no big mystery. I just needed to get away,” Margaret confessed as she gave Midnight a final pat and let herself out of the stall.

“Any particular reason?”

“Actually, I was worried about us.”

Her husband tensed. “Us?”

“It’s all right, Matt,” she said, and slipped her arm around his waist to hug him. “Really. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I can tell that something is. I’m giving you space to deal with it in your own way. When you’re ready to discuss it with me, I’ll be here.”

He stared at her as though he wasn’t sure he should believe her.

“If you choose not to tell me, that’s fine by me, too.”

He frowned. “You’re okay with that?”

“I’m fine with it.”

He looked down at her, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” he said, his voice low and barely controlled. “But whatever it was, I’m grateful.”

Sarah and Dennis sat in Dr. Leggatt’s Grand Forks office and anxiously awaited his decision. “I’m feeling much better,” she told him. The cramping and contractions had lessened over the weeks of continued bed rest.

“The pregnancy seems to be progressing normally,” Dr. Leggatt said, sitting across the desk from Sarah. She looked at her husband and flashed him a huge grin.

“Then I can go back to being a regular person again?” That might be pushing her luck, but she couldn’t help asking.

“Back to work?” he repeated with a short laugh. “Not quite.”

“I can leave the house?”

He hesitated. “Some.”

Her shoulders sagged with disappointment, and Dennis’s hand tightened around hers.

“You’re the best judge in this situation,” the doctor said. “No one knows better than you exactly how much activity you can undertake. As soon as you feel any contractions, you know what to do. The most dangerous time has passed, but we still have to be careful if you’re going to carry this child to term.”

Sarah wanted that more than anything, even if it meant risking her sanity. This afternoon was the first time in weeks that she’d stepped outside. The first time she’d stood in the afternoon sunshine and breathed in fresh spring air. It made her feel nearly giddy with happiness. Giddy with love. It turned her thoughts to her husband and how long it’d been since they’d last made love.

They rode the elevator to the lobby and as luck would have it, they were alone. “Dennis, I want you to kiss me.”

“Here? Now?”

This joy was almost more than she could contain. “Yes, right here. Right now. Hurry.” It didn’t matter that she was five months pregnant or that the elevator could stop any second.

“Sarah, I…” Dennis paused, glancing over his shoulder as though he half expected someone to suddenly appear, then wrapped his arms around her. The kiss started gently but quickly grew as wild as their passion. Sarah slid her hands around his neck and gave herself fully to this man she loved beyond reason. One kiss, however, wasn’t enough. Their dilemma was ironic; before their marriage they’d made love often and with abandon. Now that they were legally husband and wife, their relationship was strictly platonic, for fear lovemaking might disturb the troubled pregnancy.

By the time the kiss ended and the elevator doors opened, Sarah was weak with longing. Somehow they managed to step out and allow others to enter. Smiling to herself, she wondered if anyone had noticed. Dennis didn’t look any more in control than she felt.

The ride back to Buffalo Valley was jubilant. The tests showed the baby was healthy and developing at the proper pace. The release of tension and worry was enough to make Sarah feel light-headed. With caution, she could carry the baby to term and they’d have the child they both wanted so much.

“I’d like to go to the shop,” Sarah told her husband as they drove into town.

He frowned in her direction and seemed about to object, then changed his mind. “Dr. Leggatt said you’d know your own endurance.”

“And I do,” she assured him.

Dennis pulled into a parking space in front of the Buffalo Valley Quilts. Although Sarah talked to her manager every day, she hadn’t actually been inside the shop since December.

No sooner had she walked in than she was surrounded by her staff. Everyone was talking at once. Most of her life, Sarah had maintained a distance from people, but none of that reserve was in evidence this afternoon. She felt free and alive and very much in love with her husband.

Jennifer proudly showed her the quilts in progress. Sarah examined each one, amazed at their beauty and the talent of her staff. She couldn’t have done a better job herself and said so.