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“Those two are great.” Maddy really didn't understand everyone's reactions to the twins. She'd hired Larry, but Bert was with his brother more often than not. She'd been the one with the decorating ideas, but the two boys were responsible for bringing her suggestions to life. Last week they'd spent hours stringing up spiders all over the store. When she'd mentioned the ghosts, they'd found an inventive way to suspend the two spooks she'd constructed out of old sheets Hassie had given her.

“I'm amazed at everything you've done in here,” Sarah said, looking around once more. “You've made this place so lively and appealing.”

“How I see it, everyone comes into the store at least once a week. It's an important part of the community.” Maddy believed that, and hoped to make the grocery a place people wanted to come, wanted to shop and most importantly, wanted to spend their money.

“I wish the Hansens had thought of it that way,” Sarah said.

“Speaking of the Hansens, I got a postcard from them this week from Arizona. They asked me to tell everyone hello. Jacob wrote that he's taken up golf and Marta's joined a women's group. They seem to be enjoying their retirement.”

Sarah grinned, shaking her head. “I've never known either of them to enjoy anything except complaining. They could win the lottery and find a reason to gripe.”

“With some people, complaining is simply a habit,” Maddy said, willing to make excuses for the older couple. They'd been nothing but kind to her and had offered her generous terms when it came to the sale of their store.

Sarah reached for a cart and started pushing it toward the first aisle. “Did Lindsay mention that her uncle's going to display my quilts? I can't tell you how thrilled I am! I talked to him this morning and he's already gotten three orders for me.”

“Yes, I heard. That's wonderful.”

Sarah paused, glancing around with a confused expression.

“Be sure to let me know if you need help finding anything,” Maddy told her as she began to arrange a second spiderweb on the cereal display.

“You've changed things around, I see,” Sarah said. “You've moved all the canned goods into one aisle and you've put the cleaning stuff together.” She nodded approval. “It makes sense—even though I got used to the Hansens' somewhat…shall we say, free-form methods.”

“Thanks,” Maddy said, grinning at Sarah's polite description of the previously chaotic shelves. She liked Sarah and was surprised by how friendly and open the other woman had been with her, especially after what Lindsay had told her.

Ten minutes later, Sarah approached the cash register, and Maddy climbed down from the ladder again.

“I think your delivery service is a wonderful idea,” Sarah commented. “I know Jeb finds it a vast improvement over relying on me.”

“So far it's working out very well,” Maddy said, although she'd only started her deliveries two weeks earlier. She found herself spending more time visiting than doing any actual delivering. People were cordial, usually insisting she stay for coffee, giving her an excuse to linger.

The only person she'd managed to miss seeing was Jeb, and she suspected he was purposely staying away in an effort to avoid her. Both visits, she'd left him short notes, extending a gentle hand of friendship.

“Have you talked to my brother recently?” Sarah asked, almost as if she'd been reading Maddy's thoughts.

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. It must be a busy time of year for him.”

“Not any busier than any other time,” Sarah said, frowning. “I should have known Jeb would—” She stopped abruptly. “That brother of mine can be so damn stubborn.”

“He's never married?” Maddy asked. Sarah had left the door open for questions and she was taking advantage of the opportunity.

“No. At the time of his accident he was dating a girl in Devils Lake. I never did find out what happened, but I think Jeb drove her away. He's…he's had a hard time adjusting…” She let the rest fade, as if she feared saying too much. “You did know about his accident, didn't you?”

Maddy nodded. “Calla told me.”

“Everything changed after that.”

“It would be a difficult adjustment for anyone,” Maddy said, remembering her last visit with Jeb. His limp had been more pronounced than before.

Piling groceries from the cart onto the counter, Sarah glanced up at Maddy. “It's going to take an extraordinary woman with a big heart to love my brother,” she said. She stared straight at Maddy, her eyes narrowed. “But I promise you, whoever makes the effort will be richly blessed. Jeb's a special man.”

Sarah left soon afterward. However, their conversation lingered in Maddy's mind. Two or three times, she lost track of what she was doing and had to refocus her attention on the task at hand. She sensed that Sarah was asking her to give Jeb a chance—exactly what she'd love to do.

Lindsay came by on her way home from school. “Hey,” she called when she entered the store. “This place is
great.
” She stood in the center by the cash register, and with her hands on her hips, did a complete rotation. “Bert and Larry sent me to check it out. My goodness, what's come over you?”

“Craziness,” Maddy confessed, “but I can't accept full credit
or
blame. The Loomis twins did most of the decorating.”

“So I heard.”

Walking over to the refrigerator unit, Maddy grabbed them each a cold soda. She handed one to Lindsay and then hopped onto the counter, legs dangling. Flipping open the can, she wondered how to introduce the subject of her conversation with Sarah Stern. Fortunately, she had no other customers just then.

“Sarah was in the store earlier,” she said. “By the way, she talked to your uncle Mike this morning and already has orders for her quilts.”

“Outstanding!”

“Sarah's thrilled,” Maddy reported. “She likes what I've done with the store, too. We must've talked for twenty minutes.”

“About what?” Lindsay demanded.

Maddy shrugged. “This and that.”

“I haven't had a twenty-minute conversation with Sarah
ever.
You know what I think?” Lindsay said, and extended her arm toward Maddy, the soda can in her hand. “People are naturally drawn to you.”

“Nonsense.” Maddy discounted that idea.

“Think about it,” Lindsay said. “It wasn't me Margaret Clemens came to. Of all the women in Buffalo Valley, she chose
you
to be her friend. Although,” she said, attempting to hide a smile behind her drink, “I'm not sure that asking you to become her bosom buddy should be considered a compliment.”

Again Maddy shook her head. “I was the one who sought out Margaret.”

“Don't overlook your talents, Maddy. I know you better than anyone and I can see you're at it again.”

“At what?”

“It's that generous nature of yours,” Lindsay said. “It's like a magnet attracting every wounded heart around. Margaret is a perfect example.”

“She's not.” Maddy wondered why she continued to argue when she knew what Lindsay said was true. All her life she'd tried to ease the emotional suffering of others. People seemed to know that instinctively.

“Margaret took one look at you and realized instantly that you were someone she could trust.”

“You're exaggerating, as usual,” Maddy said dismissively.

“Didn't you tell me there's a housekeeper who's been with the family for years?”

“Yes, but—”

“If Margaret wanted to learn about womanly wiles, don't you think the housekeeper could have taught her?”

“Perhaps. I…I don't know.”

“Well, I do,” Lindsay said matter-of-factly. “It isn't only Margaret, either.”

Maddy knew what was coming. “If you're going to mention Jeb McKenna, I want you to know you couldn't be more wrong. I've only met him briefly and both times he made it abundantly clear that he prefers his own company.”

“But he interests you. You admitted it earlier.”

“You're making far more of this than necessary,” Maddy insisted. However she knew Lindsay was right—more and more often, Jeb McKenna fell comfortably into her thoughts.

 

Jeb knew when to expect Dennis, and after checking the fence line on the northern border of his property, he headed back to the house. Not that a fence was any guarantee of containing bison. Experience had taught him early that anytime a buffalo could get his nose over a fence and wanted out, chances were he'd find a way. Although Jeb had never seen it himself, he'd heard that grown bulls could make a standing six-foot leap.

When he'd first decided to raise bison, someone had told him he could herd them anyplace
they
wanted to go. He'd built the sturdiest six-foot fence he could and left it at that.

Dennis was waiting for him when Jeb drove into the yard. His friend routinely made stops in the area, filling gasoline tanks for farm machinery. Jeb kept a small amount on hand, but he didn't use much, not the way he had when he was farming.

As he neared Dennis, Jeb saw the beaten look on his friend's face, and knew something was wrong. He guessed it had to do with Sarah—an easy guess, since anytime Dennis was unhappy, Sarah was invariably the cause. Little in this world frustrated Jeb more than his sister's relationship with his best friend. He'd often wanted to take her by the shoulders and give her a good, hard shake. Dennis was as decent a husband as Sarah was likely to find, and if she hadn't figured that out by now, something was seriously wrong with her brain.

“How's it going?” Dennis asked with forced enthusiasm as Jeb walked toward him.

They exchanged handshakes. “You got time for coffee?” Jeb asked, and without waiting for a response, led the way into the house.

Jeb couldn't look at the coffeemaker and not think of Maddy Washburn. His sister had manipulated him into town to meet the new grocer and now he was cursed with the memory.

“How's business?” Jeb asked when Dennis remained characteristically silent.

“Never better.” A halfhearted grin came and went. “How 'bout you?”

“Good,” Jeb returned, thinking this was probably the blandest conversation of their long and involved history.

Dennis nodded.

“All right,” Jeb said, slapping his hand on the table. “What's wrong?”

Their eyes met and held for a brief moment before Dennis expelled a sigh. “I tried talking to Calla about her mother and me.”

“It didn't work?”

Dennis snorted, then paused long enough to sip his coffee. “Calla seems to think there's a chance of Sarah reconciling with her ex.”

“The kid's living in a dream world. Did you ask Sarah?”

His nod was slow in coming. Jeb watched the doubt and the hurt in his friend's eyes, and for half a second he was afraid Dennis was going to tell him Sarah had confirmed Calla's statement.

In many ways, Jeb blamed himself for his sister's predicament. She'd left home shortly after her high-school graduation, eager to make her own way in the world. Even as a teenager, she'd loved sewing and shown real creativity. Soon after she arrived in Minneapolis, she'd gotten a job in a fabric store, but unfortunately hadn't earned enough money to support herself. Never afraid of hard work, Sarah had also taken a part-time job at a convenience store. That was where she'd met Willie Stern.

She'd written home about Willie. Still naive, Sarah had believed everything the fast-talking bastard said. Soon he'd maneuvered Sarah into his bed, seducing her and then dumping her.

When she learned she was pregnant, Sarah had phoned Jeb, not knowing what to do and afraid to tell their parents. Playing the role of protective brother to the hilt, Jeb had driven to Minneapolis, found Willie and threatened to beat the crap out of him, until Willie agreed to marry Sarah. It'd been a stupid-ass mistake. Within a few weeks of their wedding, Willie was running around on her. Sarah had done her best to hide the truth from everyone, putting up with a miserable situation.

The one bright spot in his sister's life was her daughter. Sarah had showered love and attention on young Calla. For nearly five years Sarah had done everything she could to work things out with Willie, but he was irresponsible, immature and didn't know the meaning of the word
faithful.

Calla not only brought Sarah joy, she'd been a blessing to their mother, as well. Calla had been her only grandchild. After her death, Sarah had moved home with Calla. Their father hadn't asked any questions. No explanation was necessary as far as Joshua and Jeb were concerned. The marriage was over.

“You know I love your sister.”

Jeb was a respecter of privacy. He'd never asked Dennis or Sarah about their relationship. “If you're worried about Sarah and Willie—”