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Not Just For Christmas
Debbie Macomber


Christmas is the time for family…and love!One snowy day Vaughn Kyle meets Carrie Hendrickson and his life goes into turmoil. Vaughn is looking to settle down with his fiancée, but as he grows closer to Carrie he starts to question his feelings for the woman he thought he loved. With Christmas around the corner Vaughn needs to figure out what matters to him most – not just at Christmas, but every day of the year…Ellen Cunningham's new life is all about studying. She finally managed to get to college and she isn’t going to let anything stand in her way – that is until Reed Morgan turns up. Suddenly Ellen is finding herself very distracted and as the snow begins to fall could Ellen have found her very own perfect Christmas present?Make Time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.







Make time for friends.

Make time for Debbie Macomber.

DEBBIE MACOMBER

CEDAR COVE

16 Lighthouse Road

204 Rosewood Avenue

311 Pelican Court

44 Cranberry Point

50 Harbor Street

6 Rainier Drive

74 Seaside Avenue

8 Sandpiper Way

92 Pacific Boulevard

1022 Evergreen Place

1105 Yakima Street

A Merry Little Christmas

(featuring 1225 Christmas Tree Lane and 5-B Poppy Lane)

BLOSSOM STREET

The Shop on Blossom Street

A Good Yarn

Susannah’s Garden

(previously published as OldBoyfriends)

Back on Blossom Street

(previously published as Wednesdays at Four)

Twenty Wishes

Summer on Blossom Street

Hannah’s List

A Turn in the Road

Thursdays at Eight

Christmas in Seattle

Falling for Christmas

A Mother’s Gift

Angels at Christmas

A Mother’s Wish

Be My Valentine

Happy Mother’s Day

On a Snowy Night

Summer in Orchard Valley

Summer Wedding Bells

This Matter of Marriage

Summer Brides

Home for Christmas

The Perfect Match

The Summer Wedding

Not Just for Christmas

THE MANNINGS

The Manning Sisters

The Manning Brides

The Manning Grooms

THE DAKOTAS

Dakota Born

Dakota Home

Always Dakota

The Farmer Takes a Wife

(Exclusive short story)







Buffalo Valley

Love by Degree

Debbie Macomber




www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#u03ffd252-c330-55df-b854-5debfd3a7530)

Title Page (#ua245a570-8584-55da-803e-8fdd6ad2dea6)

Buffalo Valley (#u98774b52-f69e-5f24-a932-ace163a34b8d)

Dedication (#uc0376931-9e1f-5084-8029-ce17f78c6008)

One (#u55c12dbc-0026-5ee1-9222-4f9fbdb60fe5)

Two (#ufc8ce61f-fff9-5ca6-9aa8-26b5cbecc8f3)

Three (#ud152a7f5-7664-5853-b59c-9ca60ed198ec)

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Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Love by Degree (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

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Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

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Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Buffalo Valley (#ulink_960a8037-37d3-5de6-bf26-9c4bc9bb5f2a)

Debbie Macomber


In memory of my mom and dad, Ted and Connie Adler.

Boy, did I get lucky to have you for my parents!

I will always love you both.




One (#ulink_47e70ceb-7723-5bad-9d32-4dcdd2c6718d)


So this was North Dakota. Gazing steadily ahead, Vaughn Kyle barreled down the freeway just outside Grand Forks. Within a few miles, the four lanes had narrowed to two. Dreary, dirt-smudged snow lay piled up along both sides of the highway. Fresh snow had begun to fall, pristine and bright, glinting in the late-afternoon sun.

His parents had retired earlier in the year, leaving Denver, where Vaughn had been born and raised, and returning to the state they’d left long ago. They’d moved north, away from the majestic peaks of the Rocky Mountains to the endlessly boring landscape of the Dakotas. This was supposed to be beautiful? Maybe in summer, he mused, when the fields of grain rippled with the wind, acre after acre. Now, though, in December, in the dead of winter, the beauty of this place escaped him. All that was visible was a winding stretch of black asphalt cutting through flat, monotonous terrain that stretched for miles in every direction.

After seven years as an Airborne Ranger in the U.S. Army’s Second Battalion based in Fort Lewis, Washington, Vaughn was poised to begin the second stage of his working life. He had his discharge papers and he’d recently been hired by Value-X, a mega-retailer with headquarters in Seattle. Value-X was one of America’s most notable success stories. New stores were opening every day all across the United States and Canada.

His course was set for the future, thanks largely to Natalie Nichols. They’d met two years earlier through mutual friends. Natalie was smart, savvy and ambitious; Value-X had recognized her skills and she’d advanced quickly, being promoted to a vice presidency before the age of thirty.

Vaughn had been attracted by her dedication and purpose, and he’d admired her ambition. His own work ethic was strong; as he’d come to realize, that was increasingly rare in this age of quick fixes and no-fault living. Natalie was the one who’d convinced him to leave the army. He was ready. When he’d enlisted after finishing college, he’d done so intending to make the military his career. In the seven years since, he’d learned the advantages and drawbacks of soldiering.

He didn’t mind the regimented life, but the career possibilities weren’t all he’d hoped they would be. What he lacked, as Natalie had pointed out, was opportunity. He was limited in how far he could rise through the ranks or how quickly, while the private sector was wide-open and looking for promising employees like him. He’d been interviewed by three headhunters who recruited candidates for a variety of corporations and in just a few weeks had six job offers.

At first he’d felt there might be a conflict of interest, taking a position with the same company as Natalie. However, she didn’t view it that way; they would be a team, she’d told Vaughn, and with that remarkable persuasive skill of hers had convinced him to come on board. He wouldn’t officially start until after the first of the year, but he was already on assignment.

Value-X was buying property in Buffalo Valley, North Dakota. Since Vaughn was going to be in the vicinity, visiting his parents in nearby Grand Forks, Natalie had asked him to pay the town a visit. It wasn’t uncommon for a community to put up token resistance to the company’s arrival. In most cases, any negative publicity was successfully handled, using a proven strategy that included barraging the local media with stories showing the company’s “human face.” After a recent public-relations disaster in Montana, Natalie was eager to avoid a repeat. She’d asked Vaughn to do a “climate check” in Buffalo Valley, but it was important, she insisted, that he not let anyone know he was now a Value-X employee, not even his parents. Vaughn had reluctantly agreed.

He’d done this because he trusted Natalie’s judgment. And because he was in love with her. They’d talked about marriage, although she seemed hesitant. Her reasons for postponing it were logical, presented in her usual no-nonsense manner. She refused to be “subservient to emotion,” as she called it, and Vaughn was impressed by her clear-cut vision of what she wanted and how to achieve it. They’d get married when the time was right for both of them.

He was eager to have her meet his family. Natalie would be joining him on December twenty-seventh, but he wished she could’ve rearranged her schedule to travel with him.

On this cold Friday afternoon two weeks before Christmas, Vaughn had decided to drive into Buffalo Valley. Because of Hassie Knight, he didn’t need to invent an excuse for his parents. Hassie was the mother of his namesake. She’d lost her only son—his parents’ closest friend—in Vietnam three years before Vaughn was born. Every birthday, until he’d reached the age of twenty-one, Hassie had mailed him a letter with a twenty-five-dollar U.S. Savings Bond.

In all that time, he’d never met her. From first grade on, he’d dutifully sent her a thank-you note for every gift. That was the extent of their contact, but he still felt a genuine fondness for her—and gratitude. Hassie had been the one to start him on a savings program. As a young adult Vaughn had cashed in those savings bonds and begun acquiring a portfolio of stocks that over the years had become a hefty nest egg.

An hour after he left Grand Forks, Vaughn slowed his speed, certain that if he blinked he might miss Buffalo Valley entirely. Value-X could put this place on the map. That was one benefit the company offered small towns. He wasn’t sure what kind of business community existed in Buffalo Valley. He knew about Knight’s Pharmacy of course, because Hassie owned that. Apparently the town was large enough to have its own cemetery, too; Hassie had mailed him a picture of her son’s gravesite years earlier.

Buffalo Valley was directly off the road. You didn’t take an exit the way you would in most places. You just drove off the highway. He slowed, made a right turn where the road sign indicated. The car pitched as it left the pavement and hit ruts in the frozen dirt road. He’d gone at least a hundred feet before the paved road resumed.

He passed a few scattered houses, and as he turned the corner, he discovered, somewhat to his surprise, a main street with businesses lining both sides. There was even a hotel of sorts, called Buffalo Bob’s 3 of a Kind. The bank building, a sprawling brick structure, seemed new and quite extensive. This was amazing. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but nothing like this. Buffalo Valley was a real town, not a cluster of run-down houses and boarded-up stores, like some of the prairie towns his parents had told him about.

Hassie’s store caught his attention next. It was a quaint, old-fashioned pharmacy, with big picture windows and large white lettering. Christmas lights framed the window, flashing alternately red and green. In smaller letters below KNIGHT’S PHARMACY, a soda fountain was advertised. Vaughn hadn’t tasted a real soda made with hand-scooped ice cream and flavored syrup since his childhood.

He parked, climbed out of his rental car and stood on the sidewalk, glancing around. This was a decent-size town, decorated for the holidays with festive displays in nearly every window. A city park could be seen in the distance, and the Buffalo Valley Quilting Company appeared to take up a large portion of the block across the street. He remembered an article about it in the file Natalie had given him.

The cold stung his face and snow swirled around him. Rather than stand there risking frostbite, Vaughn walked into the pharmacy. The bell above the door jingled and he was instantly greeted by a blast of heat that chased the chill from his bones.

“Can I help you?” He couldn’t see who spoke, but the voice sounded young, so he assumed it wasn’t Hassie. The woman or girl, whoever she was, stood behind the raised counter at the back of the store.

“I’m looking for Hassie Knight,” Vaughn called, edging his way down the narrow aisle. This pharmacy apparently carried everything: cosmetics, greeting cards, over-the-counter medicine, gourmet chocolate, toothpaste and tissues—just about anything you might require.

“I’m sorry, Hassie’s out for the day. Can I be of help?”

He supposed he didn’t need to see Hassie, although it would have been nice.

“I’m Carrie Hendrickson.” A petite blonde in a white jacket materialized before him, hand extended. “I’m an intern working with Hassie.”

“Vaughn Kyle,” he said, stretching out his own hand. He liked the way her eyes squarely met his. Her expression held a hint of suspicion, but Vaughn was prepared for that. Natalie had mentioned the North Dakota attitude toward strangers—a wariness that ranged from mild doubt to outright hostility. It was one reason she worried about this proposed building site.

“Hassie and I have never officially met, but she does know me,” he added reassuringly. “I was named after her son.”

“You’re the Vaughn Kyle?” she asked, her voice revealing excitement now. “Did Hassie know you were coming and completely forget? I can’t imagine her doing that.”

“No, no, it was nothing like that. I just happened to be in the area and thought I’d stop by and introduce myself.”

Her suspicion evaporated and was replaced with a wide, welcoming smile. “I’m so pleased to meet you. Hassie will be thrilled.” She gestured to the counter. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? A soft drink?”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind an old-fashioned soda.”

“They’re Hassie’s specialty, but I’ll do my best.”

“Don’t worry about it.” On second thought, he decided something warm might be preferable. “I’ll have a coffee.”

She led him to the soda fountain and Vaughn sat on a padded stool while Carrie ducked beneath the counter and reappeared on the other side.

“Do you know when Hassie’s due back?” he asked.

“Around six,” Carrie told him, lifting the glass pot and filling his cup. “You need space for cream?” she asked.

He answered with a quick shake of his head. She didn’t cut off the steady stream of weak coffee until it’d reached the very brim of his cup.

The door opened, bells jingling, and a woman dressed in a black leather jacket walked into the store. She had three scarves wrapped around her neck, nearly obscuring her face.

“Hi, Merrily,” Carrie called, then scrambled under the fountain barrier. “I’ll have Bobby’s prescription ready in just a moment.” She hurried to the back of the store. “While you’re waiting, introduce yourself to Vaughn Kyle.”

Merrily glanced toward the counter and waved, and Vaughn raised his mug to her.

“That’s Hassie’s Vaughn Kyle,” Carrie said emphatically. “Vaughn was named after her son,” she added.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Merrily walked over to shake his hand. “What are you doing here?” she asked, unwinding the woolen scarves.

Now, that was an interesting question, Vaughn thought. He certainly hadn’t anticipated anyone knowing about him.

“He came to meet Hassie,” Carrie said as she returned with the prescription. She handed Merrily a small white sack. “How’s Bobby feeling?”

“Better, I think. Poor little guy seems prone to ear infections.” She turned to Vaughn with a smile. “Nice meeting you,” she said. She wrapped the mufflers around her face again before she headed out the door.

“You, too,” Vaughn murmered.

Carrie reached across the counter and grabbed a second mug for herself. “Hassie told you about the War Memorial, didn’t she? We’re all proud of that.” Not waiting for a response, she continued, “The town built the Memorial three years ago, and it honors everyone from Buffalo Valley who died in war. The only one most of us actually remember is Hassie’s son. But there were others. We lost Harvey Schmidt in the Korean War and five men in World War II, but none of their families live in the area anymore.”

“You knew Vaughn Knight?” The blonde seemed far too young to have known Hassie’s son.

“Not personally. But from the time I was small, Hassie told my brothers and me about Vaughn. It’s been her mission to make sure he isn’t forgotten.”

Vaughn had heard about Vaughn Knight from his own parents of course, since they’d both been close to Hassie’s son.

Carrie sipped her coffee. “Hassie told me it was one of the greatest honors of her life that your parents chose to remember her son through you.”

Vaughn nodded, disappointed that he’d missed meeting the older woman. “What time did you say Hassie would be back?”

“Around six, I guess.”

Vaughn checked his watch. He didn’t intend to make an entire day of this.

“If Hassie had known you were coming, I don’t think anything could’ve kept her away.”

“I should have phoned beforehand,” he muttered. “But …”

“I hope you’ll wait.”

Vaughn glanced at his watch again. Three hours was far longer than he wanted to stick around. “Tell her I’ll come by some other time.”

“Please stay. Hassie would feel terrible if she learned you’d left without meeting her.” She hesitated, obviously thinking. “Listen,” she said, “I’ll phone Leta Betts and ask if she can fill in for me for a couple of hours.”

Vaughn reconsidered. He might get all the information he needed from Carrie; then he could meet Hassie on strictly social terms. He’d been vaguely uncomfortable about questioning Hassie, anyway.

“Please,” she said, “it would mean the world to Hassie, and I’d be delighted to give you a tour of town.”

Perfect. He’d learn everything Natalie wanted to know and more. “That’s a generous offer. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’d consider it a pleasure,” she said, and smiled.

With her looking up at him that way, smiling and appreciative, Vaughn couldn’t help noticing that Carrie Hendrickson was a very attractive woman. Not that Natalie had anything to worry about, he told himself staunchly.

Working closely with Hassie as an intern pharmacist, Carrie Hendrickson was keenly aware of how eager the older woman was to meet her son’s namesake. A few months ago, Hassie had heard that the Kyles had retired in Grand Forks and she’d mailed off a note, inviting them to visit Buffalo Valley. Apparently they planned to do that sometime in the new year. Hassie would be ecstatic about finally meeting their son.

Carrie loved Hassie Knight, who was her mentor and her friend. Following Carrie’s divorce, Hassie had given her sympathy—and good, brisk, commonsense advice. She’d guided her through the fog of her pain and encouraged her to look toward the future. Many an afternoon they’d spent talking, reminiscing, sitting quietly together. Hassie had shared the grief of her own losses and helped Carrie deal with Alec’s betrayal in ways her own mother never could. Hassie was the person who’d suggested she return to college. Carrie had taken her advice; nearly six years ago she’d enrolled at the University of North Dakota in Grand Forks. Now she was about to finish her internship with Knight’s Pharmacy and achieve her Pharm.D and become a Doctor of Pharmacy. The last few years had been bleak financially, but the reward would be worth all the sacrifices.

After her divorce, she’d moved back in with her parents. She felt deeply grateful for their generosity but she was twenty-seven years old and longed for more independence and a home of her own. Well, it would happen eventually; she’d just have to wait.

Meanwhile, working side by side with Hassie, Carrie had learned a great deal. When it came time for the older woman to retire, Carrie would be willing and able to assume her role in the pharmacy and in the town. People knew and trusted her. Already they approached her with their troubles and concerns as naturally as they did Hassie. Alec’s infidelity had reinforced the importance of trust and honor for Carrie. Those were precepts she lived by. The people of Buffalo Valley knew she would keep their problems to herself.

The town was a success story in an area where there’d been few. The Hendrickson farm, like many others, had fallen victim to low crop prices. Unable to make a living farming the land that had supported them for three generations, her father had leased the acreage to his older sons and moved into town. Together with Carrie’s two younger brothers, he’d opened a hardware store.

For as long as she could remember, Knight’s Pharmacy had been the very heart of this town. Hassie was getting on in years and probably should’ve retired long ago. She wouldn’t, though, not while the community still needed her, not only to dispense prescriptions and basic medical advice but also to be their counselor and confidante.

Carrie knew she could never replace Hassie, because that would be impossible. But she’d always been good at chemistry and math, and had done well at her pharmaceutical studies. She also cared about the town and had an intense interest in people. Hassie had often told her she was naturally intuitive and sensitive toward others; Carrie was pleased by that, although her intuition had been notably absent during her ex-husband’s affair. Hassie said she was exactly the pharmacist Buffalo Valley needed and had given her the faith in herself to believe she could complete the six years of schooling required to obtain her license.

“I’ll get my coat and hat and be right back,” she told Vaughn after calling Leta. Hassie’s friend worked at the pharmacy part-time and was as eager as Carrie to make sure that Hassie met Vaughn.

“You’re certain this isn’t an imposition?”

“Absolutely certain,” she told him.

Leta arrived promptly and after making swift introductions, Carrie removed the white pharmacist’s jacket and put on her long wool coat.

“What would you like to see first?” she asked when she rejoined him.

“Whatever you’d like to show me.”

“Then let’s go to the City Park.” Although there were a number of places she wanted to take him, the park seemed the best place to start. As they left the pharmacy, Carrie noticed it had stopped snowing, but she suspected the temperature had dropped several degrees. She led him across the street and then down a block, past the quilt store and several others.

“I know Hassie would want you to see the War Memorial,” she said, glancing up at Vaughn. Now that she stood beside him, she was surprised to see how tall he was—possibly six-two. All four of her brothers were six feet, but Carrie took after her mother’s side of the family and was small-boned and petite. His dark good looks didn’t escape her notice, either.

“First came the park,” she explained, walking briskly to ward off the cold. Carrie loved the City Park and everything it said about their community. The people of Buffalo Valley had worked together to make this barren plot of land a place of which to be proud. “The land itself was a gift from Lily Quantrill,” she said. “Heath Quantrill, her grandson, is the president of Buffalo Valley Bank.” She pointed toward the brick structure at the far end of Main Street.

“Isn’t there a branch in Grand Forks?”

“There are branches all across the state,” Carrie told him.

“The headquarters is here?”

She nodded. “Heath moved everything to Buffalo Valley two years ago. I know it was a hard decision, but this is his home now, and he was tired of commuting to Grand Forks three days a week.”

“It’s an impressive building.”

“Heath’s an impressive bank president. I hope you get the chance to meet him and his wife, Rachel.”

“I do, too,” Vaughn said.

“Heath donated the lumber for the children’s play equipment,” she said as they entered the park and strolled past the jungle gym, slides and swings. “But Brandon Wyatt, along with Jeb McKenna and Gage Sinclair, actually built all these things.” She realized the names didn’t mean anything to Vaughn, but she wanted him to get a sense of what the park stood for in this community. Each family had contributed something, from planting the grass to laying the concrete walkway.

“It looks well used.”

An outsider like Vaughn couldn’t possibly understand how much the children of Buffalo Valley cherished the park. “My family owns the hardware,” she continued, pointing to the opposite side of the park toward the store. “We donated the wood for the picnic tables.”

“I notice they aren’t secured with chains,” Vaughn said.

“We don’t have much crime in Buffalo Valley.” It distressed her to visit public areas where everything, including picnic tables and garbage cans, was tied down by chains to prevent theft. But no one had ever stolen from the park or any other public place in Buffalo Valley. There’d never been any real vandalism, either.

“No crime?” He sounded as though he didn’t believe her.

“Well, some, but it’s mostly petty stuff. A few windows soaped at Halloween, that kind of thing. The occasional fight or display of drunkenness. We did have a murder once, about eighty years ago. According to the stories, it was a crime of passion.” Quickly changing the subject, she said, “The War Memorial was designed by Kevin Betts. I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, but he was born and raised right here.”

“Sorry, I haven’t,” Vaughn said with a shrug.

“He’s Leta’s son, and he’s an artist who’s making a name for himself.” Everyone in town was proud of Kevin. “This sculpture—” she gestured as they neared it “—was one of his very first.” She watched Vaughn’s expression when he saw it and was stirred by the immediate appreciation that showed in his eyes.

Kevin was a gifted artist, not only because he was technically skilled but because his work evoked emotion in people. The bronze sculpture was simple and yet profound. Half-a-dozen rifles were stacked together, upright and leaning against one another, with a helmet balanced on top. Beside the guns a young soldier knelt, his shoulders bowed in grief. No one seeing the piece could fail to be moved, to respond with sorrow and a bittersweet pain.

Vaughn stood before the memorial and didn’t say anything right away. Then he squatted down and ran his finger over the name of Vaughn Knight. “My parents still talk about him. He was the one who brought them together,” Vaughn said, and slowly straightened. “I’m glad he won’t be forgotten.”

“He won’t be,” Carrie assured him. “With this memorial, his name will always be here to remind everyone.”

Vaughn thrust his gloved hands into his coat pockets.

“Cold?” Carrie asked.

He shook his head. “I know about the pharmacy and you’ve mentioned the hardware store. Tell me about the other businesses in town.”

They walked toward Main Street and Carrie told him about each one in turn, starting with Joanie Wyatt’s video-rental and craft store and ending with her parents’ place.

“It was a leap of faith for you to move into town, wasn’t it?” Vaughn said.

Carrie nodded pensively. “Yeah, but it’s paid off. My two oldest brothers are still farming and the two younger ones work exclusively with Mom and Dad. It’s a good arrangement all around.”

“Are you hungry?” Vaughn asked unexpectedly.

She laughed. “You offering to feed me?” It was a bit early, but dinner would pass the time until Hassie returned.

“Unless there’s a reason for you to hurry home.”

“No reason. I’m divorced.” Even now, six years later, the words left a bitter taste on her tongue. She focused her gaze directly in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I am, too.” She forced a cheerful note into her voice, as if to say she was over it.

“I thought I’d suggest Buffalo Bob’s 3 of a Kind. I was intrigued by what you told me about him.”

“He’s certainly a character,” she agreed. “But before we go there, I’d like to show you Maddy’s Grocery.” Carrie loved the wonderful and witty Christmas display Maddy put up every year. Eight reindeer were suspended from the ceiling, with the front half of Santa’s sleigh coming out of the wall.

Vaughn laughed when he saw it. His reaction was one of genuine enjoyment and not the short derisive laugh of someone mocking Maddy’s efforts. On their way to 3 of a Kind, they strolled past the Buffalo Valley Quilting Company.

“This is the success story of the decade,” Carrie boasted as she motioned to the holiday quilt displayed in the first set of windows. “Sarah Urlacher started the business in her father’s house, dyeing the muslin herself from all-natural products. The designs are her own, too.”

Vaughn stopped to look at the quilt in the window.

“It all began when Lindsay Sinclair introduced Sarah’s quilts to her uncle. He owns an upscale furniture store in Atlanta, and before she knew it, Sarah had trouble keeping up with the demand. Now people all over the country buy her quilts.”

“That’s great.”

“Sarah’s business has boosted the economy of Buffalo Valley to the point that we can now afford things that are commonplace in other towns.”

“Such as?”

“The sidewalks got refurbished last summer, and the town could never have paid for that without the tax revenue Sarah’s business brings in.” Carrie didn’t mention the new community well and several other improvements that had taken place over the past few years.

“I’ll let Leta know where we are so she can tell Hassie,” Carrie said, and made a quick stop at the pharmacy. She was back within moments. Vaughn waited for her outside.

There was no one at the restaurant or in the bar when they arrived. Studying Buffalo Bob with fresh eyes, Carrie could only guess what Vaughn must think. The ex-biker was a burly man. He was an oddity here in a town where most men came off the farm. With his thinning hair drawn back into a ponytail and his muscular arms covered in tattoos, he looked as though he’d be more comfortable with a biker gang than waiting tables.

“How ya doin’, Carrie?” he greeted her when she took a seat across the table from Vaughn.

“Good, Bob. Come meet Vaughn Kyle.”

“Welcome to Buffalo Valley,” Bob said, extending his hand for a hearty shake. “Merrily told me you’d dropped by.” Bob gave them each a menu. “Take a look, but the special tonight is Salisbury steak. I don’t mind telling you it’s excellent.” He grinned. “And who would know better than me?”

“I’m convinced,” Vaughn told him with an answering smile. “I’ll have the special.”

“Me, too,” Carrie said, returning the menu.

Bob left them, and Carrie tried to relax but found it difficult. She hadn’t been alone with a man, other than her brothers, in a very long time. Following her divorce, she’d only dated twice, and both occasions had been awkward. Her schooling, plus her internship, didn’t leave much room for a social life, anyway.

Vaughn sat back in his chair. “Tell me about Hassie,” he suggested easily.

Carrie felt the tightness leave her shoulders. On the subject of Hassie, she could talk his ear off. “What would you like to know first?”

“Whatever you feel is important.”

“She’s been my hero for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what would’ve happened to this town without her.” Carrie wanted him to realize how deeply Hassie was loved by everyone in Buffalo Valley. “She’s older now, and she’s slowing down some.” Carrie had seen the evidence of that in the months since she’d come to work as an intern. She almost suspected that Hassie had been holding on until she got there.

Vaughn glanced at Buffalo Bob as he brought their salads and nodded his thanks. “Every year, along with my birthday card and a U.S. Savings Bond, she wrote me a short message.” His mouth lifted in a half smile. “She called it words to live by.”

“Give me an example,” Carrie said, curious.

“I don’t remember them all, but … okay, she told me about the importance of being on time. Only, she did it by making up this little poem. …” He hesitated and a slow grin crossed his face. “She once wrote that if at first I don’t succeed, it just means I’m normal.”

“That sounds like Hassie.”

“She has a wonderful way of putting things.” He paused, a reflective look on his face. “When I was sixteen, she told me the grass isn’t greener on the other side of the fence, it’s greener where it’s watered.”

“I think it’s wonderful that you remembered them.”

“How could I not, when she made them so much fun? She was like an extra grandmother.”

Hearing that warmed Carrie’s heart, because she knew Hassie felt toward him the way she would a grandson.

They were silent as they ate their salads. Buffalo Bob had made even a plain lettuce, cucumber and tomato salad taste delicious with the addition of a tart-sweet cranberry dressing. They were just finishing when Bob reappeared, carrying two plates heaped with food. He placed them in front of Vaughn and Carrie, then stepped back, and said, “Enjoy.”

Vaughn stared after him as he returned to the kitchen. “He’s not the typical sort of person you find in a place like this, is he?”

“Bob’s a sweetheart,” she said defensively. “He’s hardworking and well-liked and a wonderful father and—”

“Tell me how he happened to land in Buffalo Valley,” Vaughn broke in. He reached for his fork, tasting the fluffy mashed potatoes and tender gravy-covered steak.

“He came here when the town was at its lowest point. My uncle Earl owned this hotel and he’d been trying to sell it for years. Seeing that there weren’t any buyers and he was losing money every month, my uncle devised an unusual poker game. It cost a thousand dollars to play, but the winner walked away with the hotel, restaurant and bar. Lock, stock and barrel.”

Vaughn’s brows arched. “And Bob won it with three of a kind.”

“Exactly.”

Vaughn shook his head. “More power to him.”

“A lot has changed since then, all of it for the better. Bob married Merrily, and two and a half years ago, they had little Bobby.”

“The one who’s prone to ear infections?”

She nodded. “You’ve never seen better parents. Those two dote on that little boy something fierce. In fact, Bob and Merrily are terrific with all the kids in town.” Carrie paused long enough to sample her dinner. “Hey, this is terrific.”

Vaughn agreed with her. “In addition to his other talents, Buffalo Bob’s a good cook. He wasn’t kidding about that.”

“I don’t know what his life was like before he came to Buffalo Valley, but he’s one of us now.”

Vaughn was about to ask a question when the door opened and Hassie hurried inside.

Carrie was instantly on her feet. One look told her Hassie was exhausted. Her shoulders were slumped and she seemed close to collapse.

“Hassie,” Carrie said, wrapping her arm protectively around the older woman’s waist. “This is Vaughn Kyle.”

It was almost as if Hassie didn’t hear her at first. “Vaughn,” she repeated, and then her face brightened visibly. “My goodness, did you let me know you were coming and it slipped my mind?”

Vaughn pulled out a chair for her to sit down. “No, I very rudely showed up without an invitation.”

“I wish I’d known.”

“It’s no problem. Carrie was kind enough to spend the afternoon with me.”

“Let me take a good look at you,” Hassie said. She cupped his face with both hands and a smile emerged. “You’re so handsome,” she whispered. “You have such kind eyes.”

If her praise embarrassed or flustered him, Vaughn didn’t reveal it.

“How long can you stay?” she asked.

“Actually, I should probably think about heading back to Grand Forks soon.”

“No,” Hassie protested. “That’s hardly enough time for me to show you everything.”

“Carrie already gave me a tour of town.”

“That’s good, but I have a number of things I’ve saved that I’d like you to have—things that were my son’s.”

Her disappointment was unmistakeable, and Carrie glanced at Vaughn, trying to signal him, hoping he’d change his mind.

“I want to see them.”

Carrie could have hugged him right then and there.

“But,” he added, “you’ve had a long, tiring day. Perhaps it would be better if I came back later.”

Hassie didn’t bother to deny what was obvious. “Would it be too much to ask you to come here on Sunday?” Both her hands gripped his, as if she was afraid to let him go.

Carrie found herself just as eager to hear his response.

“I’ll meet you at the store shortly after noon,” he said. “I’ll look forward to seeing you then.”

Carrie felt a surge of relief—and anticipation. She couldn’t help smiling, first at Hassie, then at Vaughn.

Happiness shimmered in the old woman’s eyes as she placed one hand on Carrie’s shoulder and leaned heavily against her.

“That would be perfect,” she said quietly. “Thank you, Vaughn.”




Two (#ulink_6ce8d01a-4a80-5483-a674-68239e129cdc)


Hassie felt old and weary, especially after a day like this. But God had rewarded her patience by sending Vaughn Kyle to Buffalo Valley. Seeing him, however briefly, had lifted her spirits. Best of all was his promise to return on Sunday afternoon.

Tired though she was, Hassie brewed herself a cup of tea and sat at her kitchen table, mulling over the events of the day. Ambrose Kohn had been a thorn in her side for many years. His family had lived and worked in town for generations, but with impeccable timing, the Kohns had moved to Devils Lake just before the economy in Buffalo Valley collapsed.

Ambrose owned several pieces of property here and a building or two. The theater belonged to him, and he’d been quick enough to close it down, despite the town council’s efforts to convince him otherwise. The old building still had plenty of life in it, but it’d sat abandoned and neglected until the first year Lindsay Snyder came to Buffalo Valley as the high-school teacher. She’d wanted to use it for a Christmas play. If Hassie remembered correctly, Ambrose had demanded she go out with him first before he gave permission. That annoyed Hassie even now, several years later.

Lindsay had attended some social function with Ambrose, and it had nearly ruined her relationship with Gage Sinclair. But she and Gage had resolved their differences. They’d been married for more than five years now and were parents of two beautiful daughters.

Ambrose, despite his underhanded methods, had walked away a winner, as well. After the community had cleaned up that old theater and put on the high-school Christmas program, he’d reopened the movie house and it’d been in operation ever since.

Unfortunately Ambrose hadn’t learned anything from that experience. He hadn’t learned that people in Buffalo Valley loved their town and that they supported one another. He hadn’t figured out that for them, Buffalo Valley was home, not just a place to live. Now the middle-aged bachelor held the fate of the community in his hands. Value-X, a huge retailer, wanted to move into town and they wanted to set up shop on land owned by Ambrose. The company had a reputation for sweeping into small towns and then systematically destroying independent and family-owned businesses. Six months earlier, Hassie had watched a television report on the effect the mega-retailer had on communities. At the time she’d never dreamed Buffalo Valley might be targeted. Naturally the company insisted this was progress and a boon to the town’s economy. There were already articles in some of the regional papers, touting the company’s supposedly civic-minded attitudes. Profit-minded was more like it.

No one needed to tell Hassie what would happen to Buffalo Valley if Value-X decided to follow through with its plans. All the small businesses that had recently started would die a fast and painful death. Her own pharmacy wouldn’t be immune.

Ambrose owned twenty acres just outside of town; this was the property Value-X was interested in acquiring, and he wasn’t opposed to selling it—no matter how badly it damaged the community.

Nothing Hassie said had the least bit of impact on him. Buffalo Bob, as president of the town council, had tried to reason with him, too, again without success. Heath Quantrill had thrown up his hands in frustration at the man’s stubborn refusal to listen.

While Ambrose didn’t live in Buffalo Valley, he did have a powerful influence on its future. For that reason alone, he should think carefully about his decision to sell that parcel of land. Progress or not, it wasn’t the kind of future she or anyone here saw for Buffalo Valley. Jerry, her husband, might have been able to talk sense into Ambrose, but Jerry had died the year after Vaughn. She’d lost them both so close together.

The TV report on Value-X had made a strong impression on Hassie. What had stayed in her mind most clearly were the interviews with business owners, some with three- and four-generation histories. They’d been forced to close down, unable to compete. Local traditions had been lost, pride broken. Men and women wept openly, in despair and hopelessness. Downtown areas died out.

Hassie couldn’t bear to think what would happen to Buffalo Valley if Ambrose sold that land to those outsiders. Why, it would undo all the work the town council had done over the past six years. The outcome was too dismal to consider.

Joanie Wyatt’s video-rental and craft store would probably be one of the first to fold. And the Hendricksons—they’d sunk everything they had in this world and more into AceMan Hardware. Value-X would undercut the lowest prices they could charge and ring the store’s death knell for sure.

Dennis Urlacher supplied car parts to the community at his filling station. Although that was only a small portion of his business, Dennis had once mentioned that his largest profit margin came from the auto parts and not the fuel. It wouldn’t be long before his business was affected, too. Even Rachel Quantrill’s new hamburger stand would lose customers. Maddy’s Grocery would suffer, too; how long she’d be able to hold on depended on Value-X’s plans. It was said that many of the newer stores included groceries.

None of that concerned Ambrose. All he knew was that he’d been offered a fair price for a piece of land that had sat vacant for years. He’d let it be known that he fully intended to sell those acres. If anyone else was interested, he’d entertain other offers. Ambrose had made one thing perfectly clear: the offer had to be substantially higher than the deal Value-X had proposed. No one in town, not even Heath Quantrill, had a thick-enough bankroll to get into a bidding war with the huge retailer.

Hassie sipped her tea and purposely turned her thoughts in a more pleasant direction. What a fine-looking young man Vaughn Kyle was. After all these years, she was grateful to finally meet him. His letters had meant so much to her, and she’d saved each thank-you note from the time he was six years old.

For a short while after her son was buried, Hassie and Barbara, the boy’s mother, had been close. They’d stayed in touch, but then a year later the wedding announcement arrived. Barbara, the beautiful young woman her son had loved, was marrying Rick Kyle, who’d been one of Vaughn’s best friends.

Hassie didn’t begrudge the couple happiness, but she hadn’t attended the wedding. Their marriage was a painful reminder that life continues. If circumstances had been different, this might have been her own son’s wedding.

Two years later, Rick and Barbara had mailed her the birth announcement. They’d named their first child after Hassie’s son. Two years later came another birth announcement, this time for a girl they named Gloria. Sight unseen, Hassie had loved that boy and thought of him as the grandson Vaughn could never give her. Her own daughter, Valerie, had two girls and Hassie adored them, but since Val and her family lived in Hawaii, there was little opportunity to see them. Vaughn Kyle had assumed a special significance for her. Neither his parents nor anyone else knew how deep her feelings ran. With a determined effort, she’d remained on the sidelines of his life, writing occasional letters and sending gifts at the appropriate times.

Now she would have the opportunity to give Vaughn the things she’d set aside for him so many years ago. It’d been her prayer that they meet before she died.

She had to stop herself from being greedy. She would gladly accept whatever time Vaughn Kyle was willing to grant her.

* * *

Carrie found herself smiling as she walked into the family home shortly after six. She paused in the entryway to remove the handknit scarf from around her neck and shrug out of her coat. Softly humming a Christmas tune, she savored the warm feelings left by her visit with Vaughn. She’d enjoyed getting to know him. Even though it’d been years since she’d spent this much time in a man’s company, the initial awkwardness between them had dissipated quickly.

Vaughn seemed genuinely interested in learning what he could about Hassie and Buffalo Valley. What she appreciated most was that he hadn’t asked any prying questions about her divorce. A lot of people assumed she wanted to tell her side of it, but Carrie found no joy in reliving the most painful, humiliating experience of her life.

Their dinner conversation had flowed smoothly. He was easy to talk to, and Carrie loved telling him about Buffalo Valley. She was proud to recount its history, especially the developments of the past five years. The improvements could be attributed to several factors, but almost all of them went right back to Hassie Knight and her determination and optimism. Hassie refused to let the town fade into nothingness, refused to let it die like countless other communities throughout the Dakotas.

When Carrie walked into the living room, her mother glanced up from her needlework and her two younger brothers hurried in from the kitchen. All three fixed their eyes on her. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to speak.

“What?” Carrie demanded.

“We’re curious about your dinner date,” her mother said mildly.

Carrie should’ve realized her family would hear she’d gone out with Vaughn. How they knew she could only speculate, but in a small town word traveled even faster than it did on the Internet.

“How’d it go?” Ken asked, looking as though he’d welcome the opportunity to defend her honor should the occasion arise.

Part of the pain of her divorce came from knowing that she was the first in their family’s history to whom it had happened. Long-standing marriages were a tradition she would gladly have continued. But she couldn’t stay married to a man who didn’t honor his vows, a man whose unfaithfulness undermined her self-respect, as well as their marriage. Her four brothers had hinted that things with Alec would have worked out differently if they’d been around to see to it. Needless to say, the last thing she wanted was her brothers, much as she loved them, playing the role of enforcers.

“He’s very nice,” she said, carefully weighing her words. She didn’t want to give the impression that there was more to their meeting than a simple, friendly dinner.

“He didn’t try anything, did he?” Chuck asked.

Carrie nearly laughed out loud. “Of course he didn’t. Where’s Dad?” she asked, wondering why her father hadn’t leaped into the conversation.

Before anyone could respond, her father shuffled into the room, wearing his old slippers, a newspaper tucked under his arm and his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He stopped abruptly when he saw her.

“So how was your hot date?” he asked. He stood in front of his easy chair and waited for her to answer.

“It was just dinner,” she protested. “The only reason he asked me out was to kill time while he waited for Hassie.” It was unlikely they’d be doing this again, which she supposed was just as well. She had to admit she wanted to, but from what he’d said, he was only in the area for the Christmas holidays and then he was going home to Seattle. There was no point in starting something you couldn’t finish, she thought. Not that she knew if he was even interested in her … or available.

“Will you be seeing him again?” her mother asked, but Carrie wasn’t fooled by her nonchalant tone.

“He’s coming back Sunday afternoon to—”

“That’s great.” Her mother smiled, clearly pleased.

“He isn’t returning to see me.” It was important her family understand that she had nothing to do with his decision. The sole reason for his visit was to spend time with Hassie.

“That’s a shame.” Her father claimed his chair, turning automatically to the sports page.

“Did you invite him to the tree-lighting ceremony?” Ken asked.

Her father lowered the newspaper and her mother paused in the middle of a stitch to await her response.

“No,” Carrie admitted reluctantly. She’d thought of mentioning it, but couldn’t see the purpose. She glanced around the room, looking at each hopeful face.

What she didn’t say was that she would’ve welcomed the opportunity to know Vaughn Kyle better. The few hours she’d spent with him had helped her realize that her heart was still capable of response, that it hadn’t shriveled up inside her like an orange left too long in the fruit bowl.

For that she was grateful.

As Vaughn pulled the rental car into the long driveway that led to his parents’ home, he saw that his mother had turned on the back porch light. It wasn’t really necessary, since the outside of the entire house was decorated with Christmas lights.

He knew his mother had made tentative plans for a dinner with friends on Sunday afternoon and might not be pleased by his absence. However, Vaughn didn’t mind returning to Buffalo Valley. He’d enjoyed meeting Carrie and learning some of the town’s recent history. He’d report this information to Natalie; she might find it useful. Carrie Hendrickson was an interesting contrast to the women he’d met and dated in Seattle during the past few years—including Natalie, his sort-of fiancée. Carrie had shied away from talking about herself, which was a refreshing change from what he’d grown accustomed to hearing. A recent dinner date with Natalie had been spent discussing every aspect of her career and the Value-X corporation—as if their work was all they had to talk about. He’d come away with a letdown feeling, feeling, somehow, that he’d missed out on something important … only he didn’t know quite what. After all, he admired Natalie’s drive and ambition and her unemotional approach to life.

His mother was finishing the dinner dishes when he entered the kitchen. “How was your visit?” she asked, rinsing a pan before setting it on the drainboard.

“Wonderful.”

“How’s Hassie?” she asked, looking expectantly at him as she reached for the towel to dry her hands. “You did give her my love, didn’t you?”

“She was exhausted.” He explained that the pharmacist had been at a meeting when he arrived and that her assistant had convinced him to wait until she got back. Neither she nor Carrie had mentioned the reason for the meeting, but whatever it was had drained her, emotionally and physically.

His mother’s brow furrowed with concern. “She’s not ill, is she?”

“I don’t think so, but I didn’t want to tire her out any more than she already was, so I told her I’d be back on Sunday.”

His mother’s face clouded and he knew what was coming. The subject of Vaughn Knight always distressed her. Every time his name was brought up, she grew quiet. He suspected she’d postponed a promised visit to Hassie because, for whatever reason, she found it hard to talk about Vaughn. More than once he’d seen tears fill her eyes. His mother wasn’t the only one; his father also tended to avoid conversations about Hassie’s son. All Vaughn knew was that both his parents thought a great deal of the friend who’d lost his life in a rice paddy thirty-three years earlier. So much that it still caused them pain.

“I’m glad you’re doing this,” she said. “Over the years I’ve wanted to talk about Vaughn, but I get choked up whenever time I try.”

She grabbed a bottle of hand lotion and occupied herself with that for a few moments, but Vaughn wasn’t fooled. She didn’t want him to see that her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Hassie will do a far better job of telling you about Vaughn than your father or I could.”

Impulsively Vaughn hugged his mother, then joined his father, who was watching television in the living room.

On Sunday the drive into Buffalo Valley seemed to go faster than it had on Friday. He knew exactly where he needed to go, and the very landscape he’d found monotonous two days earlier now seemed familiar, even welcoming.

When he pulled into town, Buffalo Bob was spreading salt on the sidewalk in front of his own place and the businesses on either side. He waved, and Vaughn returned the gesture, then eased into a parking spot near the pharmacy. Once again he was struck by what an appealing town Buffalo Valley was. It felt as though he’d stepped back in time, to an era when family and a sense of community were priorities, when neighbor helped neighbor and people felt responsible for one another.

A sign on the door stated that the drugstore was open from noon until five on Sundays during December. When he walked inside, Vaughn found Hassie behind the counter. He automatically looked for Carrie and wasn’t disappointed when he saw her over by the cash register, checking receipts. She paused in her task as soon as she saw him.

To his surprise, his mind had drifted toward her a number of times since Friday. He was attracted by her charm, which was real and uncontrived. She was genuine and warm, and he liked the pride in her eyes when she talked about her town.

She froze, as if she, too, had been thinking of him. That was a pleasant thought and one that sent a shiver of guilt through him. He was as good as engaged to Natalie, and the last thing he should be doing was flirting with another woman.

“Right on time,” Hassie said, sounding much livelier this afternoon than she had two days earlier.

“I’m rarely tardy when I have a date with a beautiful woman,” he teased, and watched both Hassie and Carrie smile. He generally didn’t have much use for flattery, but occasionally it served a purpose. In this case, his rather silly statement had given everyone, including him, a moment of pleasure.

“You going to be all right here by yourself?” She turned to Carrie.

“Of course. You two go and visit, and don’t you worry about a thing.”

“I’ll just get my coat,” Hassie said, and disappeared to retrieve it. While she was gone, he had a few minutes with Carrie.

“I’m glad you’re doing this for Hassie,” she said. “It means so much to her to be sharing her son’s life with you.”

“I’m not doing it out of any sense of charity.” Vaughn was truly interested in learning what he could about his namesake.

Hassie returned, wearing a long, dark coat, and they walked over to her house, which was one street off Main. Vaughn slowed his gait to match hers, tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow. Together they strolled leisurely down the newly shoveled sidewalk.

The house resembled something out of a 1950s movie. The furniture was large and bulky, covered in thick navy-blue fabric. Doilies decorated the back of the chair, and three were strategically placed across the back of the matching sofa. Even the television set was an old-fashioned floor model.

“It’ll only take me a minute to make tea,” Hassie announced heading toward the kitchen. He was given instructions to sit down and to look through the photo albums she’d already laid out.

Vaughn opened the biggest album. The first photograph he saw was a black-and-white version of a much younger Hassie standing with a baby cradled in her arms. A tall, handsome man stood awkwardly beside her, grinning self-consciously. His hand was on the shoulder of a little girl about four or five who stood in front of them, her dark brown hair in long braids.

Thereafter, photograph after photograph documented the life of Vaughn Knight. He was in Boy Scouts and active in his church. His school pictures showed increasing growth and maturity. When he reached high school, Vaughn had grown tall and athletic; a series of newspaper articles detailed his success on the basketball court and the football field. The year he was a senior, Buffalo Valley High School won the state football championship, with Vaughn Knight as the star quarterback. Another article named him Most Valuable Player.

His high-school graduation picture revealed the face of a young man eager to explore the world.

Hassie rejoined him, carrying a tray with a ceramic pot and two matching cups, as well as a plate of small cookies.

Vaughn stood and took the tray from her, placing it on the coffee table, and waited while she poured. He noticed that her hands were unsteady, but he didn’t interrupt or try to assist her.

When she’d finished, she picked up a round, plain hatbox and removed the lid. “The top letter is the first one that mentions your mother.”

Vaughn reached for the envelope.

September 30, 1966

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m in love. Don’t laugh when you read this. Rick and I went to a hootenanny last night and there was this terrific girl there. Her name’s Barbara Lowell, and guess what? She’s from Grand Forks. She’s got long blond hair and the most incredible smile you’ve ever seen. After the hootenanny we drank coffee and talked for hours. I’ve never felt like this about any other girl. She’s smart and funny and so beautiful I had a hard time not staring at her. Even after I left her, I was so wrapped up in meeting her I couldn’t sleep. First thing this morning, I called her and we talked for two hours. Rick is thoroughly disgusted with me and I don’t blame him, but I’ve never been in love before.

As soon as I can, I want to bring her home for you to meet. You’ll understand why I feel the way I do once you see her for yourselves.

Love,

Vaughn

“The Rick he’s writing about is my dad?” Vaughn asked.

Hassie nodded. “Here’s another one you might find interesting.” She lifted a batch of letters from the box. It was apparent from the way she sorted through the dates that she’d reread each letter countless times.

July 16, 1967

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’ve made my decision, but I have to tell you it was probably the most difficult I’ve ever had to make. I love Barb, and both of us want to get married right away. If I were thinking just of me, that’s exactly what we’d do before I ship out. But I’m following your example, Dad. You and Mom waited until after the war to marry, and you came back safe and whole. I will, too.

Barb cried when I told her I felt it was best to delay the wedding until after my tour. Although you never advised me one way or the other, I had the feeling you thought it was better this way.

Vaughn stopped reading. “Did you want him to wait before marrying my mother?”

Hassie closed her eyes. “His father and I thought they were both too young. In the years that followed, I lived to regret that. Perhaps if Vaughn had married your mother, there might have been a grandchild. I realize that’s terribly selfish, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“I always wondered if Jerry would’ve lived longer if we’d had grandchildren. Valerie was still in college at the time and wasn’t married yet. A few years after that, she moved to Hawaii to take a job and met her husband there, but by then it was too late for Jerry.”

“So your husband took the news of Vaughn’s death very hard?”

“Once we received word about Vaughn, my husband was never the same. He was close to both children, but the shock of Vaughn’s death somehow made him lose his emotional balance. Much as he loved Valerie and me, he couldn’t get over the loss of his son. He went into a deep depression and started having heart problems. A year later, he died, too.”

“Heart attack?”

“Technically, yes, but Vaughn’s death is what really killed him, despite what that death certificate said. He simply gave up caring about anything. I wish …” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” Vaughn said, and meant it.

“Don’t be.” She patted his hand. “God knew better. Had your mother and my son married, you would never have been born.”

It must have hit her hard that her son’s fiancée and closest friend married each other within a year of his death. “Were you upset when my parents got married?” he asked.

“A little in the beginning, but then I realized that was exactly what Vaughn would have wanted. He did love her, and I know in my heart of hearts that she loved him, too.”

“She did.” Vaughn could say that without hesitation.

Hassie plucked a tissue from the nearby box and dabbed at her eyes. “I’d like you to have this.” She reached for a second box and withdrew a heavy felt crest displaying the letters BVHS. It took Vaughn a moment to recognize that it was from a letterman’s jacket.

“Vaughn was very proud of this. He earned it in wrestling. He was a natural at most sports. Basketball and football were barely a challenge, but that wasn’t the case with wrestling. Many an afternoon he’d walk into the pharmacy and announce to his father and me that he was quitting. By dinnertime he’d change his mind and then he’d go back the next day.” She paused, dabbing at her eyes again. “Our children were the very best of Jerry and me. Vaughn was a good son, and losing him changed all of us forever.”

“I’d be honored to have this letter,” Vaughn said.

“Thank you,” Hassie whispered. She smiled faintly through her tears. “You must think me an old fool.”

“No,” he was quick to tell her. “I’m very glad you showed me all this.” For the first time Vaughn Knight was more than a name, someone remembered who’d been lost in a war fought half a world away. He was alive in the words of his letters, in the photographs and in the heart of his mother.

“His letters from Vietnam are in this box,” Hassie said. “They’ll give you a feel for what it was like. If you’re interested …”

Having served in the military, Vaughn was, of course, interested. He sat back and read the first letter. When he’d finally finished them all, it’d grown dark and Hassie was busy in the kitchen.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s after six.”

“No.” He found that hard to believe. “I had no idea I’d kept you this long. I apologize, Hassie. You should have stopped me.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t. Your interest was a pleasure to me. Everything was fine with the store—Carrie’s fully capable of handling anything that might come up. Besides, we’re closed now.”

“He could’ve been a writer, your son,” Vaughn said, setting aside the last letter. For a few hours he’d been completely drawn into Vaughn Knight’s descriptions of people and landscapes and events. Although the details were lightly sketched, a vivid picture of the young soldier’s life had revealed itself through his words.

“I often thought that myself,” Hassie agreed. After a brief silence she said, “I didn’t want to interrupt you to ask about dinner. I hope it wasn’t overly presumptuous to assume you’d join me.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Hassie nodded once, slowly, as if she considered his company of great worth.

While she put the finishing touches on the meal, Vaughn phoned his parents to tell them he’d be later than anticipated. “Be sure and give Hassie my love,” his mother instructed. “Tell her your father and I plan to visit her soon.”

“I will,” he promised.

When he ended the phone conversation, he found Hassie setting the table. He insisted on taking over, eager to contribute something to their dinner. His admiration and love for the older woman had grown this afternoon in ways he hadn’t thought possible on such short acquaintance. She’d opened his eyes to a couple of important things. First and foremost, he’d learned about the man he’d been named after and discovered he had quite a lot to live up to. Second, he’d come to see his parents in a new light. He understood how their fallen friend had shaped their lives and their marriage. It was no wonder they didn’t often speak of Vaughn Knight. The years might have dulled the pain, but the sense of loss was as strong in them as it was in Hassie.

They chatted over dinner, and his mood lightened. Hassie was wise and considerate; she seemed to understand how serious his thoughts had become.

“The community is lighting the Christmas tree this evening,” she said casually as Vaughn carried their dishes to the sink.

“Are you going?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Hassie informed him. “The Christmas tree is set up beside the War Memorial. Nearly everyone in town will be there—” she paused and looked at him “—including Carrie.”

“Are you playing matchmaker with me, Hassie Knight?” he asked. He had a feeling she didn’t miss much—and that she’d seen the way his gaze had been drawn to Carrie when he’d entered the pharmacy.

Hassie chuckled. “She’s smitten, you know.”

Smitten. What a wonderful old-fashioned word, Vaughn mused. It would take a better man than him not to feel flattered.

“You could do worse.”

“And how do you know I don’t already have a girlfriend waiting for me in Seattle?” he asked, and wondered what Hassie would think of Natalie. For some reason he had the impression she wouldn’t think much of her sharp-edged sophistication. It’d taken him a while to see past Natalie’s polished exterior; once he had, he’d realized she was just like everyone else, trying to be noticed and to make a name for herself.

“You don’t,” Hassie returned confidently.

He was about to tell her about Natalie, when Hassie said, “Come with me. Come and watch the community tree being lit. There’s no better way to learn about Buffalo Valley.”

Vaughn’s purpose, other than meeting Hassie, was to do exactly that. Still, seeing Carrie again appealed to him, too—more than it should.

“That’s just what I need to put me in the Christmas spirit,” Vaughn said. “I’d consider it an honor to accompany you.”

“Wonderful.” Hassie clasped her hands together as though to keep herself from clapping with delight. “I can’t tell you how happy this makes me.”

He helped her on with her coat, then grabbed his own. Taking her arm again, Vaughn guided her out the door and down the front steps. By the time they rounded the corner to Main Street and the City Park, the town was coming to life. There were groups of people converging on the park and cars stopping here and there. The air was filled with festivity—carols played over a loudspeaker, kids shrieking excitedly, shouts of welcome … and laughter everywhere. Vaughn could practically feel the happiness all around him.

“This is about as close as it gets to a traffic jam in Buffalo Valley,” Hassie told him.

As soon as they appeared, it seemed everyone in town called a greeting to Hassie. Vaughn had never seen anything to compare with the reverence and love people obviously felt for her.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Hassie Knight,” an older man teased as he approached. “I didn’t realize I had competition.”

“Cut it out, Joshua McKenna.” Hassie grinned. “Meet Vaughn Kyle.”

“Mighty pleased to meet you.” The man thrust out his hand for Vaughn to shake.

“Nearly everyone in a fifty-mile radius is coming,” Joshua said, glancing around him. More and more cars arrived, and the park was actually getting crowded.

“I don’t see Calla. She’s not going to make it home this year?”

“And miss spoiling her baby brother?” Joshua returned. “You’re joking, right?”

Hassie laughed delightedly. “I should have known better.”

“Jeb, Maddy and the kids are already here.”

The names flew over Vaughn’s head, but it was apparent that Hassie loved each family.

“Maddy owns the grocery,” Joshua explained as they strolled across the street and entered the park. “She’s married to my son. Best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Oh, yes—I saw the grocery,” Vaughn said. “Maddy. I remember. The fantastic reindeer.”

Joshua grinned widely. “Yup, that’s our Maddy. Loves any excuse to decorate—and does a great job.”

“They have two of the most precious children you’ll ever want to see,” Hassie added, “with another on the way.”

“The first pregnancy and this latest one were real surprises.”

“I’ll bet Jeb’s developed a liking for blizzards,” Hassie murmured, and the two older folks burst into laughter.

“You’d have to know the history of that family to understand what’s so amusing,” Carrie said, joining them.

“Hello again,” Vaughn murmured.

“Hi.”

Vaughn had trouble looking away.

“How about you and Carrie getting me some hot chocolate?” the older woman asked.

“Bring some for me, too, while you’re at it,” Joshua said.

“I think we just got our marching orders,” Carrie told him, her eyes smiling. “Is that okay?”

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” Vaughn replied.

The cold had brought color to her cheeks, and her long blond hair straggled out from under her wool hat. “It’s fine with me. Buffalo Bob and Merrily are serving cocoa and cookies over there,” she said a little breathlessly.

“I’ll be right back,” Vaughn said over his shoulder as he followed Carrie.

“Don’t rush,” Hassie called after him … and then he thought he saw her wink at him.




Three (#ulink_7034c313-2083-5962-9735-2e4014a385ce)


The Christmas lights strung around the outside of the old house welcomed Vaughn back to his parents’ home. His mother had been born and raised in Grand Forks, but his grandparents had moved to Arizona when he was six. Vaughn had no recollection of visiting the Dakotas, although he was certain they had. His memories centered on the Denver area and his father’s family. Not until Rick was accepted for early retirement did they decide to return to the home that had been in the Lowell family for more than a hundred years.

The television blared from the living room as Vaughn let himself into the house, entering through the door off the kitchen after stomping the snow from his shoes on the back porch. He unzipped his jacket and hung it on a peg, along with his muffler.

“Is that you, Vaughn?” his mother called.

“No, it’s Santa,” he joked.

He watched as his mother, still holding her needlepoint, hurried into the kitchen. “You’re not hungry, are you?”

“I filled up on cookies and hot chocolate.”

His mother studied him as if to gauge how the meeting with Hassie had gone—the real question she wanted to ask, he suspected. “Did you have a … good visit?”

“Yes.” He nodded reassuringly. “We talked before dinner, but afterward there was a tree-lighting ceremony in the park.”

“You attended that?” His mother sounded pleased.

“Sure, why not?” His response was flippant, as though this was the very thing he’d normally do. In truth, though, Vaughn couldn’t recall attending anything like it since he was in grade school. The evening had been quite an experience. The whole town had come alive with music and laughter and people enjoying one another’s company. Christmas had never been a big deal to Vaughn—but he’d never seen an entire community join together like this, either. He knew it had made a lasting impression on him, that it left him longing for the same kind of warmth. For a true spirit of celebration, far removed from sophisticated parties and decorator-trimmed trees.

“How is Hassie?” his mother asked.

Vaughn wasn’t sure what to say. Hassie was without a doubt one of the most dynamic women he’d ever met. She possessed character and depth and a heart that poured out love for her family and her community. He’d immediately seen how deeply she was loved and respected. After these hours in her company, Vaughn had understood why. “She’s an extraordinary woman.”

“I know.” His mother’s voice was soft, a little tentative. Before Vaughn could say more, she’d retreated into the living room.

Vaughn followed and his father muted the television, obviously waiting for him to enlighten them about his visit.

“Hassie let me read the letters her son wrote from Vietnam.”

His mother resumed her needlepoint and lowered her head, as though the stitches demanded her full attention.

“They were riveting. I learned about the war itself, things I could never have learned from a book, and about the man who wrote them.” At the time, Hassie’s son had been younger than Vaughn was now. In his letters, Vaughn had recognized the other man’s sense of humanity, his hatred of war and his desire to make a difference, to share in a struggle for freedom.

“We met at the University of Michigan during our freshman year of college,” his father said, and his eyes went blank. He seemed to be back in a different place, a different time. Vaughn knew he hadn’t been accepted into the service himself because of poor eyesight. “He was my roommate. Both of us were away from home for the first time and in an environment completely foreign and unfamiliar. I suppose it’s only natural that we became close.”

His mother added in a low voice, “He was the most generous person I’ve ever known.”

“He got a part-time job tutoring a youngster who had leukemia,” his father continued, his gaze focused on the television screen. “He was hired for three hours a week, but Vaughn spent much more time with him than that. He played games with Joey, talked to him, cheered him up, and when Joey died at thirteen, the boy’s mother said Vaughn had been his best friend.”

“That’s the kind of person he was,” his mother said.

“Hassie gave me the school letter he earned in wrestling. And then, after I walked her back home, she said there was something else she wanted me to have.” His parents looked up when he paused. Even now, Vaughn could hardly believe Hassie would give him such a gift.

“What, son?”

“Her husband’s gold pocket watch. It would’ve been Vaughn’s had he lived.” Hassie had placed it in his hands with tears filming her eyes, then closed his fingers around it.

“Treasure it, Vaughn,” his mother whispered.

“I do.” Vaughn’s first reaction had been to refuse something that was clearly a valuable family heirloom, something that meant a great deal to the old woman. He’d felt the significance of her gift and was moved by the solemnity of her words and gestures when she’d presented it to him.

He would always keep it safe. And he would pass it down to his oldest son or daughter.

“What else did Hassie tell you?” his father asked.

“She … said how much Vaughn had loved Mom.”

“He did.”

Vaughn studied his father, looking for any sign of jealousy. If he’d been in his father’s shoes—well, he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d feel.

“We planned to marry,” his mother said, “but Hassie probably told you that.”

He nodded. “She showed me the letter in which Vaughn explains why it would be best to wait until he returned from Vietnam.”

“Only, he didn’t return. And everything worked out in a completely different way.” His mother took his father’s hand and held it and they gazed at each other for a moment. “But a good way,” she said quietly.

“I often wondered what Hassie really thought about the two of us getting married,” his father said. He stared at Vaughn as if, after meeting Hassie, he could supply the answer.

Indeed, Vaughn had seen the look that came over her face when she mentioned his parents’ marriage. “At first I think she took it hard.” This didn’t appear to surprise either of his parents.

“Our marriage was a reminder that Vaughn was never coming home,” his mother said, “and that no matter how much pain the world brings us, life continues.”

“She said as much herself.”

“I think … she was disappointed in us both.”

“Perhaps in the beginning,” Vaughn agreed, “but she changed her mind later. She told me she felt that her son approved.”

“I’m sure he did,” his mother whispered.

His father reached abruptly for the remote, indicating that the conversation was over. Sound flared back, and Vaughn got up and went to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee before rejoining his parents.

“Oh, dear, I almost forgot to tell you,” his mother said. “Natalie phoned.”

Vaughn’s first reaction was that he didn’t want to talk to her. Not tonight. Not after such an emotionally overwhelming day. Knowing Natalie, she’d want to discuss business, and that was the last thing on his mind. He needed to think before he returned the call, needed to absorb what he’d learned first—about the town, about Hassie … about himself.

“It isn’t too late to call her back,” his mother said. “With the time difference, it’s barely eight on the West Coast.”

“I know,” he said absently, his thoughts now on Carrie Hendrickson. Much of the evening had been spent with her. After they’d brought hot chocolate to Hassie and Joshua McKenna, she’d introduced him to her family.

Vaughn had seen the wary look in her brothers’ eyes and realized how protective they were of her. He wished he’d had more of a chance to talk to Carrie, but they were constantly interrupted. She was a favorite with her nieces and nephews, who were forever running up to her, involving her in their games and their squabbles. She was a natural peacemaker, he observed, one of those people whose very presence brought out the best impulses in others. Like Hassie. And the people in town valued Carrie in much the same way; that was easy to tell. They came to her for advice and comfort. They were drawn to her just as he was.

“Your father and I are looking forward to meeting Natalie,” his mother said, breaking into his musings.

Vaughn started guiltily. He was as good as engaged—although, he supposed, all they’d really done was discuss the possibility of marriage. He hadn’t divulged his plans to either of his parents. At Natalie’s request, he hadn’t even told them about his job. “She’s anxious to meet you, too,” he said, but without a lot of enthusiasm. The contrast between Natalie and Carrie flashed like a neon sign in his brain. One was warm and personable and focused on the needs of her community, the other sharp, savvy and ambitious. When he’d arrived in North Dakota, he thought he knew what he wanted; all at once, he wasn’t sure.

“You’ve been seeing her for two years now,” his mother went on, watching him.

“Barbara, the boy doesn’t need you to tell him that.”

Vaughn sipped his coffee. This was one conversation he had no wish to continue. “Carrie and I are going Christmas shopping tomorrow,” he said, instead.

His mother lowered the needlepoint to her lap and stared at him. “Carrie? Who’s Carrie?”

Vaughn didn’t realize his mistake until it was too late. “A friend.”

His mother raised her eyebrows as if his answer didn’t please her. “When did you have time to make friends?”

“She works with Hassie at the pharmacy.”

“I see.” It appeared his mother did see, because she said nothing more.

Vaughn wished he understood his own feelings. A week ago he would have rushed to return Natalie’s call. He wasn’t avoiding her, he decided, but the subject of Value-X and Buffalo Valley. In a matter of days—one day, really—he’d become oddly protective of the town … and its people. Hassie, of course, but Carrie, too. Natalie was bound to ask him questions he no longer wanted to answer.

One thing was clear; he needed to think the situation through very carefully.

Craving solitude, Vaughn swallowed the last of his coffee, then announced he was heading for bed.

His mother glanced up at the wall clock. “Aren’t you calling Natalie?”

He frowned. “Later. Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

“Vaughn has to rest up for shopping,” his father teased.

“Ah, yes, the great shopping expedition. Where will it be, by the way?”

“The mall here in town.”

“You’re actually going to a mall at this time of year?” His father looked at him as though he’d lost his sanity.

Vaughn gave a nonchalant shrug. He didn’t know what had possessed him to suggest he and Carrie meet at Columbia Mall. His excuse had been that Carrie was a wonderful source of information about the town. He’d never had the opportunity to bring up the subject of Value-X, and wanted to get her reactions to it. Or so he told himself.

The truth was, he wanted to know her better.

Hassie sat up in bed, her eyes on the photograph of her son on the bedroom wall. She looked at Jerry’s picture next and Valerie’s, then turned back to Vaughn’s. It was only natural that she’d be thinking about her son tonight.

Time passed with such inexorable swiftness, she reflected. She had startlingly clear memories of Vaughn as a toddler, stumbling toward her, arms outstretched. If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear his laughter. She’d loved to scoop him into her arms and hug him close until he squirmed, wanting to run and play with his older sister. As they grew older, Valerie had listened to his confidences and offered a big sister’s sage advice.

How carefree life had been for her and Jerry in the early 1950s. Simple pleasures had meant a great deal back then. She could think of no greater comfort than sitting with her husband after a day at the pharmacy, a day they’d spent working together. Jerry would slip his arm around her shoulder and she’d press her head against his. He’d loved to whisper the sweetest words in her ear, and oh, she’d enjoyed being in his arms. In those days, it seemed the sun would never stop shining and the world would always be filled with happiness.

Turning out the light, Hassie nestled under the covers and let her memories take her back. Valerie and Vaughn used to come to the pharmacy every afternoon after school. To this day she could still picture the two of them sitting at the soda fountain, waiting to be served an after-school snack. They were a normal sister and brother, constantly bickering. Valerie always teased Vaughn, and when she did, he’d tug her pigtails hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Then it would be up to Hassie to chastise them both. Softhearted Jerry had left the discipline to her. Hassie hated it, but knew her children needed to understand that their actions had consequences.

The years flew by so fast! Looking back, Hassie wished she’d appreciated each day a little more, treasured each moment with her children while they were young. Before she could account for all the years that had passed, it was 1960, and Vaughn was in high school.

Jerry was especially proud of Vaughn’s athletic talent. He, too, had been a sports star in his youth. Vaughn had played team sports throughout his four years in high school, and they’d never missed a game. One or the other, and often both of them, were at his games, even if it meant closing the pharmacy, although they didn’t do that often. They always sat in the same section of the stands so Vaughn would know where to find them. When his team came onto the field, it wasn’t unusual for him to turn toward the bleachers and survey the crowd until he located his parents. Then he’d smile and briefly raise one hand.

Without even trying, Hassie could hear the crowds and recall the cheerleaders’ triumphant leaps, while the school band played in the background.

Watching Vaughn play ball had been hard on Hassie’s nerves. Twice that she could remember, her son had been injured. Both times Jerry had to stop her from running onto the field. She stood with the other concerned parents, her hands over her mouth, as the coaches assessed his injuries. On both occasions Vaughn had walked off the playing field unaided, but it’d been pride that had carried him. The first time his arm had been broken, and the second, his nose.

His high-school years had been wonderful. The girls always had eyes for Vaughn. Not only was he a star athlete and academically accomplished, he was tall and good-looking. The phone nearly rang off the hook during his junior and senior years. There’d never been anyone special, though, until he met Barbara Lowell in college. She’d been his first love and his last.

Hassie recalled how handsome he’d looked in his brand-new suit for the junior-senior prom, although he’d been uncomfortable in the starched white dress shirt. The photo from the dance revealed how ill at ease he’d been. His expression, Jerry had said, was that of someone who expected to be hit by a water balloon.

Hassie had suggested he ask Theresa Burkhart to the biggest dance of the year. He’d done so, but he’d never asked her out for a second date. When Hassie asked him why, Vaughn shrugged and had nothing more to say. Every afternoon for a week after the prom, Theresa had stopped at the soda fountain, obviuosly hoping to run into Vaughn. Each afternoon she left, looking disappointed.

Packing Vaughn’s suitcase the day before he went off to the University of Michigan was another fond memory. She’d lovingly placed his new clothes in the suitcase that would accompany him on this first trip away from home. Although saddened by his departure, she took comfort in knowing he’d only be gone for a few years. This wasn’t a new experience, since Valerie had left four years earlier and was attending Oregon State. She was working part-time and seemed in no particular hurry to finish her education. Jerry and Hassie had been reassured by Vaughn’s promise to return as a pharmacist himself. He shared their commitment to community and their belief in tradition.

Soon the kitchen table was littered with his letters home. The letter in which he first mentioned meeting Barbara had brought back memories of Hassie’s own—like meeting Jerry at college just before the war. The day that letter arrived, she’d sat at the kitchen table with her husband and they’d held hands and reminisced about the early days of their own romance.

Then the unthinkable happened. News of a war in a country she’d barely heard of escalated daily. The papers, television and radio were filled with reports, despite President Johnson’s promises to limit the United States’ involvement. Then the day came when Vaughn phoned home and announced, like so many young men his age, that he’d been drafted. A numbness had spread from Hassie’s hand and traveled up her arm. It didn’t stop until it had reached her heart. Vaughn was going to war. Like his father before him, he would carry a rifle and see death.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. For a while, men in college were exempt, but with the war’s escalation, they were now included. Vaughn took the news well, but not Hassie. He had to do his part, he told her. It was too easy to pass the burden onto someone else. Citizenship came with a price tag.

Suddenly bombs were exploding all around her. Terrified, Hassie hid her head in her hands, certain she was about to die. Bullets whizzed past her and she gasped, her heart cramping with a terrible fear. All at once she was cold, colder than she could ever remember being, and then she was flat on her back with the sure knowledge that she’d been hit. The sky was an intense shade of blue, and she was simultaneously lying there and hovering far above. But when she looked down, it wasn’t her face she saw. It was the face of her dying son. His blood drained out of him with unstoppable speed as the frantic medic worked over him.

Her son, the child of her heart, was dying. He saw her and tried to smile, to tell her it was all right, but his eyes closed and he was gone. Her baby was forever gone.

A crushing load of grief weighed on Hassie’s heart. She cried out and, groaning, sat upright.

It was then she realized she’d fallen asleep. This had all been a dream. Awash with memories, she’d drifted into a dream so real she could hear the fading echoes of exploding ammunition as she dragged herself out of a past world and back to reality.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, her gaze darted from one familiar object to another. From the bedroom door where her housecoat hung on a hook to the dresser top with the silver mirror and brush set Jerry had given her on their tenth anniversary.

“Vaughn.” His name was a broken whisper, and she realized that she couldn’t remember what he looked like. His face, so well loved, refused to come. Strain as she might, she couldn’t see him. Panic descended, and she tossed aside the blankets and slid out of bed. It wasn’t her son’s image that filled her mind, but the face of another young man. Another Vaughn.

Vaughn Kyle.

“Of course,” she whispered, clutching the bedpost. Leaning against it, she heaved a deep, quivering sigh and climbed back into bed.

Wrapping the quilt around her, she tucked her arm beneath her pillow and closed her eyes. Yes, it made sense that she’d dream of Vaughn that night. Her Vaughn. It also made sense that it was Vaughn Kyle’s face she now saw. After all, she’d spent much of the day with him.

Barbara and Rick had done a good job raising him. Vaughn was a fine man, honest and genuine, sensitive yet forthright. She was grateful she’d had the opportunity to meet him before she died.

Giving him the gold watch had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was the one possession of Jerry’s she’d held back from Valerie and her two granddaughters. Valerie lived in Hawaii and although they were close, they rarely visited each other. Hassie had flown to the island once, but all those tourists and hordes of people had made her nervous. Not only that, she wasn’t comfortable in planes, and the long flight made her nervous. A few years back, after a scare with Hassie’s heart, Valerie had flown out to spend time with her, but had soon grown bored and restless.

Hassie didn’t think Val’s daughters, Alison and Charlotte, would have much interest in their grandfather’s watch. But it was precious to her, so she’d kept it.

She knew when she pressed the watch into Vaughn’s palm that this was the right thing to do. He looked as if he was about to argue with her, but he didn’t and she was glad. Still, his hesitation told her more clearly than any words that he understood the significance of her gift.

Warm once more, Hassie stretched out her legs, enjoying the feel of the sheets against her bare skin. She smiled, remembering the exchange she’d witnessed between Carrie and Vaughn Kyle last night. She hoped something came of it. After her divorce Carrie was understandably wary about relationships, but Hassie felt confident that Vaughn would never intentionally do anything to hurt her.

“Can’t something be done?” Carrie asked, pacing in front of Heath Quantrill’s polished wood desk. As the president of Buffalo Valley Bank, he just might know of some way to stop Value-X from moving into town. In the past day or so, news of the retailer’s plans had spread through town faster than an August brushfire. Carrie had first heard of it that morning. She suspected Hassie knew and had been protecting her; she also suspected there’d been rumors last night, but she’d been too involved with Vaughn to notice.

Heath’s frown darkened. It went without saying that he wasn’t any happier about this than she was. “I’m sorry, Carrie, but Ambrose Kohn is a difficult man to deal with. The town council has spoken to him several times. Hassie tried and I did, too, but he isn’t willing to listen.”

“You knew before this morning?” she fired back. “Hassie, too?” That was what she thought—and it explained a great deal. Hassie just hadn’t been herself lately, but every inquiry was met with denial.

Heath nodded.

“Doesn’t Mr. Kohn realize what he’s doing?” Carrie found it hard to believe he could be so callous toward the town.

“He knows all too well.”

“People have a right to know that the entire future of our town is at risk.” She could only imagine what would happen to her father’s store if Value-X set up shop.

Heath obviously agreed with her. “Hassie suggested we keep this under wraps until after Christmas, and the rest of the council decided to go along with her. I don’t know how the news leaked.” He scowled and rolled his gold pen between flat palms.

Delaying the bad news changed nothing. This morning at breakfast her father had announced what he’d learned. He was already alternating between depression and panic. He’d heard it from Joanie Wyatt at the treelighting ceremony. The Wyatts had sent away for stock information, and Joanie had read over a prospectus; she’d seen that Buffalo Valley was listed as a possible expansion site. She’d immediately phoned Buffalo Bob, who’d reluctantly confirmed it.

“Nothing’s been signed yet,” Heath said, as though that should make her feel better. It didn’t.

She glanced at her watch, wishing she had more time to get all this straight in her mind. Although she was eager to meet Vaughn at the Columbia Mall as promised, she wasn’t in the mood for Christmas activities. Not with this Value-X problem hanging over all their heads.

“Have you talked to anyone at the corporate office?” she asked.

Heath nodded.

“They weren’t interested in listening, were they?” Heath’s disheartened look was answer enough. “It’s progress, right?”

“Right,” Heath muttered. “Listen, I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes. I’m sorry, Carrie. I know what this will mean for your father’s business and Knight’s Pharmacy, too. I’m doing the best I can.”

“Can’t you buy the property yourself?”

“I approached Kohn about that, but …”

“He won’t sell it to you?” Carrie asked in an outraged voice.

“Let’s say he’d love a bidding war—one I’d be sure to lose.” Heath stood and retrieved his overcoat from a closet.

Her gaze pleaded with his. “You’ve got to find a way to keep Value-X out of Buffalo Valley.”

“Kohn hasn’t heard the last of this,” Heath promised as he escorted her out of the bank.

Carrie accompanied him to his four-wheel-drive vehicle.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, feeling the need to act.

Heath shook his head as he opened his car door. “Don’t worry, Carrie, this isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.”

All Carrie could do was trust that, somehow or other, he’d convince Ambrose Kohn to be reasonable.

The drive into Grand Forks passed in a fog. Burdened by the news, Carrie was surprised when the two lanes widened to four as she reached the outskirts of the big city.

Vaughn was waiting for her inside the mall at a coffee shop they’d designated as their meeting place. He stood as she approached. She was struck again by what an attractive man he was. Her ex-husband had been attractive, too, but Alec’s good looks had belied his selfish, arrogant nature. She’d learned, the hard way, that a handsome face proved nothing about the inner man. No, handsome is as handsome does, her grandma always said. Which made Vaughn Kyle very handsome, indeed.

He’d been so gentle and caring with Hassie. He’d spent time with her, listened to her talk about her son. Carrie marveled at his patience and his good humor and the respect he seemed to genuinely feel for Hassie and for the town. When he’d asked her to meet him in Grand Forks to help him finish his shopping, she’d agreed. It’d been a long, long time since a man had impressed her as much as Vaughn Kyle.

“Thanks for coming,” he said now.

Although it was relatively early, the mall was already frantic. With exactly a week left before Christmas, the entire population of Grand Forks had apparently decided to cram itself inside.

“The only person I still need to buy for is my mother,” he told her, looking around as though he already regretted this.

“What about perfume?” Carrie wasn’t feeling too inspired, either.

“She’s allergic to a lot of those scents.”

“Okay, how about …” Carrie proceeded to rattle off several other suggestions, all of which he categorically dismissed for one reason or another.

“Do you have any more ideas?” he asked, looking desperate.

“Not yet, but we might stumble across something while we’re here.”

Vaughn sighed. “That doesn’t sound promising.” He glanced around. “How about if we find a quiet restaurant and discuss it over lunch?”

He didn’t need to ask twice. She was as anxious to get away from the crowds as he was. They found an Italian place Joanie and Brandon Wyatt had once recommended and were seated almost immediately. Sitting at their table with its red-and-white-checkered tablecloth, Carrie could see why her friends liked it here. The casual atmosphere was perfect. If the food was half as good as the smells wafting from the kitchen, she was in for a treat.

Carrie quickly made her decision and closed the menu. Lowering her gaze, she pushed thoughts of Value-X from her mind for the umpteenth time. Her worries kept intruding on the pleasant day she was hoping to have.

“You’d better tell me,” Vaughn said. His hand reached for hers and he gently squeezed it. “Something’s wrong.”

Apparently she hadn’t done a very good job of hiding her concerns. Rather than blurt everything out, she stared down at the tablecloth for a long moment.

“We learned this morning that Value-X is considering Buffalo Valley as a possible site,” she finally said. “Apparently they’ve already negotiated for a piece of land. I don’t need to tell you what that’ll do to our community.”

“It might be a good thing,” he said slowly. “Try to think positive.”

“If this is progress, we don’t want anything to do with it,” she muttered. Vaughn couldn’t possibly understand. She was sorry she’d brought up the subject. “We happen to like our town just the way it is.”

“It isn’t that—”

“We’re going to fight it,” she said confidently.

“How?” Vaughn asked. “Isn’t that a little like David fighting Goliath?”

“Perhaps, but like David, you can bet we aren’t going to idly sit by and do nothing.” Already plans had started to form in her mind. “Other communities have succeeded. We can, too.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“Damn straight I am.”

“Don’t you think you’re overlooking the positive aspects of a company like Value-X opening a store in Buffalo Valley? They have a lot to offer.”

Carrie glared at him. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“I guess not. Help me understand.” Vaughn leaned back in his chair, his expression serious.

“Value-X will ruin everything. We don’t want it, we don’t need it.” Carrie struggled to keep her voice even.

Vaughn studied her. “I imagine you’re a formidable opponent when you put your mind to something.”

“It isn’t only me,” she told him. “The entire town is up in arms. We haven’t come this far to let some heartless enterprise wipe out all our efforts.”

Vaughn frowned. “Value-X will mean the end of Knight’s Pharmacy, won’t it?”

That was only the beginning as far as Carrie could tell. “And AceMan Hardware.” She ran one finger across the tines of the fork. “The only business I can’t see it affecting is the Buffalo Valley Quilting Company.” Carrie shot him a look and wondered why she hadn’t thought of this earlier. “That’s it!”

“What is?”

“A quilt. It’s the perfect Christmas gift for your mother.”

Vaughn didn’t appear convinced. “A quilt?”

“They’re special. Hand-sewn, and you could go traditional or innovative.”

“How much are they?”

“I don’t know the full range of prices,” she said, “but if the quilt is more than you want to spend, there’re table runners and place mats and lap robes.”

“Hmm.” The idea seemed to take hold. “That does sound like a gift she’d enjoy.”

“I’m sure she would,” Carrie said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier.”

“So how do I go about this?”

“If you don’t want to drive back to Buffalo Valley so soon, I could choose one for you,” she offered.

“Perhaps Mom should pick it out herself.”

“Great idea—and I know Hassie would love to see her.”

“I think it would do my mother a world of good to renew her friendship with Hassie.”

The waitress arrived and took their orders. Seafood linguine for her, lasagna for him. And a glass of red wine for each. “Hey, it’s Christmas,” Vaughn said with a grin.

He took his cell phone from his jacket and flipped it open. Within seconds, he had his mother on the line.

“What about tomorrow?” he asked, looking at Carrie.

“I’m sure that’ll be fine.”

“Hassie will be there, won’t she?”

Carrie nodded. “She’s scheduled to work in the morning, but she has the afternoon free. I’ll cover for her, if need be.”

He relayed the information to his mother, then ended the conversation and slid the phone back inside his jacket. Smiling at her, he said, “Thanks, Carrie.”

A warm feeling came over her, and once again she lowered her gaze. Vaughn Kyle—kind to old women and a thoughtful son. He was exciting and he was interesting and he made her heart beat furiously. She could only regret that he was heading back to Seattle so soon after Christmas.




Four (#ulink_e69d7864-568a-5325-9277-43824d4c6dff)


“I suppose you heard,” Hassie said when Leta Betts came bustling into the pharmacy late in the afternoon. The word about Value-X had filtered through Buffalo Valley, and the town was rife with speculation. Nearly everyone she knew had stopped by to talk it over with her, as though she had a solution to this perplexing problem.

“I don’t like it,” Leta muttered, walking behind the counter of the soda fountain and pulling out a well-used teapot. “Want me to make you a cup?”

“Please.” Hassie had filled prescriptions all afternoon, between interruptions, and she was ready for a break. She’d known that Leta would come by at some point; fortunately, there was a lull just now, which made it a good time to talk to her dearest friend.

“Where’s Carrie?” Leta found two mugs and set them on the counter.

“It’s her day off.”

“I heard she went to see Heath.”

Hassie had heard about that, as well. Carrie had a good heart and cared about this community with the same intensity as Hassie did. Once Carrie received her Pharm.D., Hassie had planned to turn the business over to her. That was before the threat of Value-X, however. If that threat became a reality, Hassie couldn’t sell the pharmacy, not in good conscience. In all likelihood the place would be out of business within a year after the big retailer moved in.

“It’s a shame, you know,” Leta murmured. She dragged a chair closer to the counter and perched on the seat. Leaning forward, she braced her elbows on the edge, sighing deeply. “Who’d have thought something like this would ever happen?”

Hassie shook her head helplessly. She’d worked so hard to save this town. And now, even if oblivion wasn’t to be its fate, a corporation like Value-X could make Buffalo Valley unrecognizable, could turn it into something that bore no resemblance to the place it had been. The place it should be.

“What are we going to do?” Leta asked.

Hassie sat next to her and assumed the same slouched pose. Leta was her friend and employee, and there wasn’t anything Hassie couldn’t tell her. But this situation with the conglomerate had her poleaxed. She was at her wit’s end. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

“We’ll think of something,” Leta insisted, and poured tea into the mugs. She set one in front of Hassie and then added a teaspoon of sugar to her own.

“Not this time,” Hassie said as she reached for the mug, letting it warm her hands. She was too old and too tired. A few years back she’d fought for her town with determination and ingenuity, but this new war would have to be waged by someone else. She’d done her part.

“This was how we both felt when we learned Lindsay had decided to return to Atlanta, remember?” Leta prodded.

As though Hassie would ever forget. At the last minute Leta’s son, Gage, had realized he’d be making the worst mistake of his life if he let Lindsay leave without telling her how much he loved her. As a result, Lindsay had not only stayed on as a high-school teacher, she’d married Gage. Leta was a grandmother twice over, thanks to the young couple.

“Value-X is too powerful for me.” A bit of research had revealed that the retailer was accustomed to exactly this kind of local resistance. They had their battle plans worked out to the smallest detail. Hassie remembered from the television exposé that the company had a legal team, as well as public-relations people, all of them experts at squelching opposition. Hassie knew the town council couldn’t afford any high-priced attorneys to plead their case. Even if they banded together, they were no match for the company’s corporate attorneys. They were cutthroat, they’d seen it all, done it all. According to the documentary, they’d won in the majority of their cases. Like it or not, Value-X simply overran a community.

“We can’t give up,” Leta insisted. She glared at Hassie, as though waiting for some of the old fight to surface.

It wouldn’t, though. Not anymore. Slowly Hassie lowered her gaze, refusing to meet her friend’s eyes. “It’s a lost cause,” she murmured.

“This doesn’t sound like you, Hassie.”

“No,” she agreed, glancing at her tired reflection in the mirror above the soda fountain, “but it won’t matter that much if I lose the pharmacy.”

Leta’s jaw sagged open. “Wh-what—”

“I should’ve retired years ago. The only reason I held on as long as I did is the community needs a pharmacy and—”

“What about Carrie?”

Hassie had been so pleased and grateful when Carrie had come to work as an intern. This was what she’d always wanted for the pharmacy. Years ago she’d expected her son to take over, but Vietnam had robbed her of that dream. The hopelessness of the situation settled squarely over her heart.

“I’m sure Value-X will require a pharmacist. Carrie can apply there.”

Silent, Leta stared into the distance.

“I’m tired,” Hassie said. “Valerie’s been after me to retire, move to Hawaii. … Maybe I should.”

“You in Hawaii? Never!” Leta shook her head fiercely. “I’ve always followed your lead—we all have. I don’t know what would’ve become of us if not for you.”

“Fiddlesticks.” Hassie forced a laugh. “Value-X is coming to town, and that’s all there is to it. We might as well accept the inevitable. Not long from now, both of us will be shopping there and wondering how we ever lived without such a store in town.”

“You’re probably right,” Leta returned, but her words rang false.

“Let’s just enjoy Christmas,” Hassie suggested, gesturing at the garlands strung from the old-fashioned ceiling lights. “What are your plans?”

“Kevin won’t be home, but he’ll call from Paris on Christmas Eve. Gage and Lindsay invited me to spend Christmas Day with them.” Hassie knew that Leta would take delight in spoiling four-year-old Joy and two-year-old Madeline.

“Bob and Merrily invited me over in the morning to open gifts with them and Bobby,” Hassie told her friend. They thought of her as Bobby’s unofficial grandmother. Early in their marriage, Bob and Merrily had lost a son—although not to death. They’d fostered a child from an abusive environment and had wanted to adopt him, but in the end, the California authorities had seen fit to place the boy with another family. It’d been a difficult time for the couple. Having lost a son herself, Hassie had understood their grief as only someone who’d walked that path could understand it. She’d tried to bring them comfort and the example of her endurance. Bob and Merrily never forgot her kindness, little as it was. Over the past few years, they’d become as close to her as family.

“You finally met Vaughn Kyle,” Leta said. “That’s definitely a highlight of this Christmas season.”

“Yes,” Hassie agreed, somewhat cheered. It’d been an unanticipated pleasure, one she’d always remember. In the hours they’d spent with each other, she’d forged a bond with the young man. Meeting Vaughn had left Hassie feeling closer to her own son, although he’d been dead for thirty-three years. Hard to believe so much time had passed since his death. …

“That was him with Carrie at the tree-lighting ceremony, wasn’t it?”

Hassie felt a small, sudden joy, sending a ray of light into the gloom she’d experienced earlier. “She’s spending the afternoon with him in Grand Forks.”

“It’s time she put the divorce behind her.”

Hassie felt the same way but didn’t comment.

“Do you think something might come of it?” Leta asked, her voice slightly raised.

Hassie couldn’t answer. Her hours with Vaughn had been taken up with the past, and she hadn’t discovered much at all about his future plans. She knew he’d been honorably discharged from the military and had accepted a position with a Seattle-based company, although he’d never said which one. Probably a big software firm, she decided. From what she understood, he’d be starting work after the first of the year. She felt it was a good sign that he’d come to spend two weeks with his parents.

“He’s been to town twice already,” Leta offered. “That’s encouraging, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.”

A small smile quivered at the edges of Leta’s mouth. “I remember when Gage first got interested in Lindsay. That boy drummed up a hundred excuses to drive into town.”

“Remember Jeb and Maddy?” Hassie murmured, her eyes flashing with the memory. These were the thoughts she preferred to cling to. Stories with happy resolutions. Good things happening to good people.

Leta’s responding grin brightened her face. “I’m not likely to forget. We hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him in months.”

“Years,” Hassie corrected. Following the farming accident that cost Jeb McKenna his leg, the farmer-turned-buffalo-rancher became a recluse. Hassie recalled the days Joshua had to practically drag his son into town for Christmas dinner. Then Maddy Washburn bought the grocery and started her delivery service. After those two were trapped together in a blizzard, why, there was no counting the number of times Jeb showed up in Buffalo Valley.

“Do you remember the day Margaret Eilers stormed into town and yanked Matt out of Buffalo Bob’s?” Leta asked, laughing outright.

“Sure do. She nearly beat him to a pulp.” Tears of laughter filled Hassie’s eyes. “Can’t say I blame her. Those two certainly had their troubles.”

Margaret had set her sights on Matt Eilers and wanted him in the worst way, faults and all. That was what she got, too. Not three months after they were married, Margaret found out that Matt had gotten a cocktail waitress pregnant. Granted, it had happened before the marriage, but Margaret had still felt angry and betrayed.

“Look at them now,” Leta said, sobering. “I don’t know any couple more in love.” She drank a sip of her tea. “If Margaret and Matt can overcome their problems, why can’t Buffalo Valley sort out this thing with Value-X?”

For the first time all week, Hassie felt hopeful. “Maybe you’re right, Leta. Maybe you’re right.”

Carrie sat down at the kitchen table and reached for the cream, adding it to her coffee. Even though she was twenty-seven years old, she found it comforting to watch her mother stir up a batch of gingerbread cookies. The house was redolent with the scent of cinnamon and other spices.

Her morning had been busy. After a lengthy conversation with Lindsay Sinclair, who’d been in contact with the Value-X corporate offices, Carrie had spent an hour on the Internet learning what she could about the big retailer.

“Did you have a good time yesterday afternoon?” Diane Hendrickson asked. She set the mixing bowl in the refrigerator, then joined Carrie at the table.

“I had a wonderful time.” She was surprised to realize how much she meant that. Lowering her eyes momentarily, she looked back up. “I told Vaughn about Alec.”

Her mother held her gaze. Carrie didn’t often speak of her failed marriage, especially not to new acquaintances.

“It came up naturally, and for the first time I didn’t feel that terrible sense of … of defeat. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same person again, but after talking to Vaughn, I knew I don’t want to be.”

Her mother smiled softly. “There was nothing wrong with you, Carrie.”

“That’s true, Mom, but I was at fault, too. I suspected Alec was involved with someone else. I simply preferred not to face it. The evidence was right in front of my eyes months before he told me. I don’t ever again want to be the kind of woman who ignores the truth.”

“You’ve never—”

“Oh, Mom,” she said, loving her mother all the more for her unwavering loyalty. “It’s time to move forward.”

“With Vaughn Kyle?”

Carrie had thought of little else in the past three days. “Too soon to tell.”

“But you like him?” her mother pressed.

She nodded. “I do.” It felt good to admit it. Good to think that her life wouldn’t be forever weighed down by a mistake she’d made when she was too young to understand that her marriage was doomed. Her husband’s betrayal had blindsided her. Outwardly she’d picked up the pieces of her shattered pride and continued her life, but in her heart, Carrie had never completely recovered. Alec had shattered her self-esteem. Somehow she’d convinced herself that there must’ve been something lacking in her; it’d taken her a long time to realize the lack had been his.

Carrie drank the rest of her coffee and placed the cup in the sink. “We spoke about Value-X, too, Vaughn and I. At first he didn’t seem to see how a company like that would hurt Buffalo Valley. In fact, he felt it might even have a positive effect. If so, I don’t see one. But he let me vent my frustrations and helped me clarify my thinking.”

“Will you be seeing him again?” her mother asked innocently enough.

“Most likely. He’s bringing his mother into town this morning. He’s buying her one of Sarah’s quilts for Christmas and thought she’d like to choose it herself.”

“What a thoughtful gift.”

Carrie didn’t mention that she’d been the one to suggest it. “They’re meeting Hassie later.” They hadn’t made any definite plans, but Carrie hoped to meet Vaughn’s mother. She was almost sure he’d stop by, either here or at the store; in fact, she was counting on it.

The doorbell chimed right then, and fingers crossed, Carrie decided it had to be Vaughn. Her mother went to answer the door.

“Carrie,” she called from the living room, “you have a visitor.”

“I hope you don’t mind me dropping by unexpectedly,” he was saying to her mother when Carrie walked in. Vaughn stood awkwardly near the door. He removed his gloves and stuffed them in his pockets.

“Hello, Vaughn.” Carrie didn’t bother to disguise her pleasure at seeing him again.

“Hi.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Would you be free to meet my mother? I left her a few moments ago, drooling over Sarah’s quilts.”

“I’d like that.” Carrie reached into the hall closet for her coat and scarf. “What did you think of the quilts?” she asked, buttoning her coat. She wanted him to appreciate Sarah’s talent.

“They’re incredible. You’re right, it’s the perfect gift for Mom.”

Carrie supposed she had no business feeling proud; the quilt shop wasn’t hers and she had nothing to do with it. But everyone in Buffalo Valley took pride in Sarah’s accomplishments. It was more than the fact that Sarah had started the company in her father’s living room. People viewed her success as a reflection of what had happened to the town itself—the gradual change from obscurity and scant survival to prosperity and acclaim. Her struggles were their own, and by the same token, her successes were a reason to celebrate.

“I wanted you to know how much I enjoyed our time together yesterday,” Vaughn said, matching his steps to hers as they took a shortcut through the park. “I appreciate the suggestion about the quilt. And I learned a lot about you—and Buffalo Valley. You helped me see the town in an entirely different way.”

“I was grateful you let me talk out my feelings about Value-X … and everything else.”

Vaughn’s arm came around her and he briefly squeezed her shoulder. There was no need to refer to the divorce. He understood what she meant.

“I talked to Lindsay Sinclair earlier,” Carrie said, changing the subject. “She phoned the corporate office and asked if the rumors are true.”

“I thought you said they were negotiating for property.”

“That’s what I told Lindsay, but she doesn’t trust Ambrose Kohn. She said she wouldn’t put it past him to let people think Value-X was interested in the property so Heath or someone else would leap forward and offer to buy it. He’s not exactly the kind of person to generate a lot of trust.”

“What did your friend find out when she talked to the corporate people?”

“First they said they didn’t want to comment on their plans, but when Lindsay pressed the spokeswoman, she admitted that Buffalo Valley’s definitely under consideration.” Carrie’s shoulders tensed. “Lindsay took the opportunity to let her know they aren’t welcome in Buffalo Valley.” When she’d heard about that part of the conversation, Carrie had cheered.

“What did the company spokeswoman say then?”

Carrie laughed. “Apparently Value-X’s official response is that according to their studies, a growing community such as Buffalo Valley doesn’t have enough retail choices.”

Vaughn snorted.

“That’s what I thought. They’re sending a representative after Christmas. This person is supposed to win us over and show us everything Value-X can do for Buffalo Valley.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“It wouldn’t hurt to listen,” he said mildly.

Carrie whirled on him. “We’ll listen, but having a huge chain store in town is not what we want. Joanie Wyatt’s already started a petition, so when the company representative arrives, he or she will be met with the signature of every single person in town.”

Vaughn said nothing.

“What Value-X doesn’t understand is that Buffalo Valley is a small town with small-town values and that’s exactly the way we want to keep it. If they move in, they’ll ruin everything that makes us who we are.”

Vaughn stopped in front of a picnic bench, cleared away the snow with his arm and sat down. “What about jobs? Value-X will offer a lot of opportunity to young people. I’ve heard repeatedly that farming communities are seeing their young adults move away because of the lack of financial security.”

“That’s not necessarily true, the part about Value-X bringing jobs. After I talked to Lindsay, I got on the Internet and did some research myself. I learned that most of the positions Value-X brings into a town are part-time and low-paying. They offer few benefits to their employees. The worst aspect is that they destroy more jobs than they create.”

Vaughn’s frown deepened.

“I apologize,” she said. “I didn’t mean to get carried away about our problems with Value-X.”

Standing, Vaughn still seemed deep in thought. “No, I want to hear this. It bothers me that the company isn’t listening to your concerns.”

“They don’t want to listen.”

“But you said they’re sending a representative.”

“Right,” she said with a snicker. “To talk to us, not to listen. They’re under the mistaken impression that we’ll be swayed by a few promises and slick words. They’ve decided we need to think bigger and bolder and stop acting like a small town.”

“But Buffalo Valley is a small town.”

Carrie gave a sharp nod. “Exactly.”

As they approached the Buffalo Valley Quilting Compay, Carrie noticed the middle-aged woman standing inside by the window, looking out into the street. When Vaughn and Carrie appeared, she smiled and waved, then pointed to the quilt on display.

Carrie waved back, silently applauding his mother’s choice.

Mrs. Kyle smiled. Her eyes moved to her son and then to Carrie; her expression grew quizzical. Carrie didn’t have time to guess what that meant before Mrs. Kyle opened the glass door, stepped out and introduced herself.

Barbara Kyle knew that when she agreed to accompany Vaughn into Buffalo Valley, she’d be seeing Hassie Knight. A meeting was inevitable. They hadn’t been together since the day they’d stood in the pouring rain as a military casket was lowered into the ground.

Following the funeral, she’d kept in touch with Vaughn’s mother. They’d called each other frequently. But despite the war, despite her grief, Barbara’s college courses had continued, and she’d had to immerse herself in a very different kind of reality.

Rick had lost his best friend, and they began to seek solace from each other. Falling in love with him was a surprise. Barbara hadn’t expected that, hadn’t thought it was possible to love again after losing Vaughn. Rick wasn’t a replacement. No one could ever replace the man she’d loved. He understood, because in his own way he’d loved Vaughn, too.

When they announced their engagement, Hassie had pulled away from Barbara. Neither spoke of it, but they both knew that their relationship had fundamentally changed and that their former closeness could no longer exist. Vaughn’s parents didn’t attend the wedding, although they’d mailed a card and sent a generous check.

Barbara thought now that naming their son after Vaughn Knight had as much to do with Hassie as it did with their feelings for Vaughn. Perhaps she’d hoped to bridge the distance between them. …

Until he was twenty-one, Hassie had remembered Vaughn Kyle every year on his birthday, but that was the only time Barbara and Rick heard from her. When Rick accepted early retirement and they’d decided to move back to North Dakota, Barbara recognized that, sooner or later, she’d see Hassie again. A month or so after they’d moved, Hassie had welcomed them with a brief note. It seemed fitting that Barbara’s son had been the one to arrange this meeting, to bring them together again.

“Hassie wanted me to bring you to the house, instead of the pharmacy,” Vaughn said as they left the quilting store.

“You’re coming with us, aren’t you?” Barbara asked Carrie. She’d quickly grasped that Vaughn was attracted to this woman, and she could understand why. However, she didn’t pretend to know what was happening. Natalie had phoned several times, wanting to speak to Vaughn; she wasn’t amused that he’d apparently turned off his cell phone. Barbara didn’t feel it was her place to inform the other woman that Vaughn was out with someone else. The situation concerned her, but she couldn’t interfere and had to trust that he was treating both women with honesty and fairness.

“I’d love to come to Hassie’s with you,” Carrie told them, “but I said I’d fill in at the store for her. You two go and have a good visit, and I’ll see you later.”

As they crossed the street, Carrie headed toward the pharmacy, and Barbara and Vaughn went in the opposite direction.

“Does the pharmacy still have the soda fountain?” Barbara asked her son.

“Sure does. In fact, I thought I’d leave you and Hassie to visit, and I’d steal away to Knight’s to let Carrie fix me a soda.”

“You’re spending a lot of time with her, aren’t you?” Barbara couldn’t resist asking.

“Am I?”

Barbara didn’t answer him. There was probably some perfect maternal response, but darned if she knew what it was.

Hassie’s house came into view, and Barbara automatically slowed her pace. It’d been thirty-three years since she’d walked up these steps. Thirty-three years since she’d attended the wake, sat in a corner of the living room with Vaughn’s older sister and wept bitter tears. At the end of a day that had been too long for all of them, Vaughn’s mother had hugged her close and then instructed a family friend to make sure Barbara got safely home to Grand Forks.




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