She parked in the yard and noticed a calf in a small pen outside the barn. When she realized it was a buffalo calf, she gave a little cry of excitement and walked directly over to it.
“Well, hello there,” she said as she approached. His woolly coat was a brilliant golden red, with two nubby horns on his forehead. Did that mean this was a male? She decided it probably did.
The calf nervously raised his head as she advanced and she slowed her pace, not wanting to frighten him. His eyes were large, a dark liquid brown. Patiently she moved to the fence, talking softly as she eased her way forward, although she didn’t know how clearly the calf could see her, despite his beautiful eyes. From what she’d read, bison had notoriously bad sight, and she didn’t want to startle the poor creature.
It took a few minutes before the calf accepted her presence. Once he had, she slipped one hand between the slats of the fence and stroked his neck. She’d never been this close to a buffalo and was so intent on what she was doing that she didn’t hear Jeb’s truck until he’d entered the yard.
“Hello,” she said, straightening as he climbed out of the vehicle and walked toward her. He resembled a cowboy straight out of the Wild West, she thought admiringly, complete with a wide-brimmed hat. She shaded her eyes as she stared up at him.
He touched the brim of his hat in greeting and showed no surprise at seeing her.
“I was in the neighborhood,” she said, then laughed at how corny that sounded. “Actually, I was. I did a dry run on the delivery route and I wanted to be sure I knew where your ranch was.”
He nodded.
“I hope you don’t take this wrong, but when you were in the store last week, did you forget to buy toilet paper?”
His eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
Maddy was feeling more foolish by the minute. “I found a discarded list…I thought it might’ve been yours, and well, I remember packing what you bought and I didn’t think you’d purchased any toilet paper.”
“You mean to say you brought some with you?” he asked.
“I did.” She nodded for emphasis. “It isn’t the type of supply one wants to get low on.”
“True,” he agreed.
Maddy thought she saw a fleeting smile. But then—as if he was reluctant to feel amusement—he turned and headed toward the barn, limping as he went.
“Since I was coming by your place anyway, I thought I’d deliver it—the toilet paper, I mean. If that was your list,” she called out after him, thoroughly embarrassed now.
“It wasn’t,” he assured her.
Maddy watched the calf for a few more minutes. During that time, Jeb walked out of the barn and toward the house.
Gathering her nerve, she asked, “Do you mind if I stay awhile? With him?” She pointed at the calf.
“Suit yourself,” came his brusque response, as though he didn’t care one way or the other. He disappeared into the house.
Maddy didn’t need it spelled out—he didn’t welcome her company. Okay, fine. Standing on the bottom board of the fence, she rested her arms over the top and watched the calf. On such a glorious day, she was in no hurry to get back to the store. This was her first real break since she’d arrived.
Ten minutes later, just as she was about to climb off the fence, Jeb called from the house. “You interested in a cup of coffee?”
“Please,” she said, delighted by the invitation.
“How do you take it?” he asked, standing at the door.
“Sugar,” she said.
“Me, too.” He went back inside.
She walked toward the porch, and he met her there with a mug. He handed it to her and she sank down on the top step. He stood, leaning casually against the railing.
“How long have you raised buffalo?” she asked.
“Bison,” he corrected. “American bison. Even though almost everyone calls them buffalo.” He paused. “I started the herd about three and a half years ago.” He stared straight ahead, obviously uncomfortable making polite conversation.
“Why?” When he frowned, she quickly added, “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m sincere. What made you decide to raise bison instead of cattle?”
He snorted a laugh. “Well, the potential for buffalo is virtually untapped. The meat is better, higher in protein and lower in fat. People have been saying for a long time that buffalo tastes the way beef wished it did.”
“So you sell them for meat?”
“I don’t raise them as pets.”
“No…I suppose not.”
He went on to explain that to date, not a single person had ever had an allergic reaction to buffalo meat, including people who suffer from allergies to other red meat. No one was sure exactly why, but Jeb thought it was because buffalo were “organically” raised. They weren’t subjected to chemicals, hormones or growth drugs, or force-fed in high-density pens.
It was clear from the way he spoke that he knew and respected the buffalo and although it might have been fanciful, Maddy suspected he somehow identified with these animals, fighting their way back from extinction.
“Another thing,” he said. “The meat sells for up to three times the price of beef.” He continued, warming to his subject. “Buffalo are hardier, need less care and have a reproductive life that’s three to four times that of cattle.” Abruptly, he looked away. “I didn’t mean to start lecturing you,” he muttered. “Getting back to your original question, though, I do sell some of my animals for meat. But most of them are sold as breeding stock.” He gave her a quizzical glance. “This is way more than you wanted to know, isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” she assured him, thanking him with a smile. “I find this fascinating.”
Not wanting to outstay her welcome, Maddy made a point of glancing at her watch. “I’d better leave,” she said, returning her empty mug as she got to her feet. “Thanks again for the information on buffalo.”
He ducked his head, acknowledging her words.
“I make my first official stop next Thursday if you’ll get me your list,” she told him.
“Fine.” He stayed where he was on the porch as she walked toward her parked car.
“Good seeing you again, Jeb,” she said, then climbed into her Bronco.
He might not have enjoyed himself, but Maddy had. He was a difficult sort of person, but that didn’t bother her. During the past few years, working in social services, she’d dealt with more than her share of unfriendly types. Jeb McKenna was Mr. Personality compared to some of them.
She started her engine and put the car in Reverse and was about to wave goodbye when she noticed he’d gone back inside.
It seemed odd to be having a date with her own husband, Joanie Wyatt mused as she nursed her two-month-old son. Jason Leon Wyatt had been born at the end of July in Fargo, when Joanie was separated from Brandon.
Shortly after Thanksgiving a year earlier, she’d left her husband, taking their two children with her. They’d reconciled some months afterward, but the time apart had taught them both some crucial lessons. Joanie had postponed telling Brandon about the pregnancy, and it was the news of the baby that had forced them to talk to each other again. Brandon had been with her when Jason was born, and for a while it looked as if everything was going to work out. Joanie didn’t want a divorce; she believed Brandon didn’t, either.
While they were separated, Joanie learned that she genuinely loved her husband, but at the same time she couldn’t go back to the farmhouse, fearing they’d slide into their old destructive patterns.
After Jason’s birth, they decided that Joanie and the kids would return to Buffalo Valley. Only they’d rent a house in town while Brandon continued to live on the farm. So far, things had fallen into place even better than they’d hoped. The house on Willow Street had belonged to an uncle of Brandon’s who’d left town when the equipment dealership closed. The house, like so many others, had sat empty for five years. He’d been willing to let them use it free of cost, preferring that someone live there rather than
leave it empty any longer.
Sage and Stevie were pleased to be back in school with their friends. Despite several visits home, both had missed their father dreadfully during the months away. The situation now wasn’t ideal, but Joanie saw real hope for her marriage.
Calla Stern arrived five minutes before Brandon was due to pick up Joanie. With shrieks of delight, Sage and Stevie raced toward the teenager. This evening out was as much a treat for her children as it was for her. Jason, however, would travel with her and Brandon—first to dinner, then to the counseling session in Grand Forks. He was too young to be left with anyone else for more than an hour or so.
Brandon was right on time.
“Hi,” Joanie greeted him as he waited in the hallway, thinking it was a little silly to be this shy around the man who’d fathered her three children. After nine months apart, plus two months of counseling, they were still a bit awkward with each other. A bit unsure.
“Daddy!” Sage dashed in from the living room. The nine-year-old threw herself into her father’s arms.
Stevie followed. Brandon crouched down and hugged his older children. “You be good for Calla now, understand?”
Sage nodded.
“Do we have to?” Stevie asked, laughing at his own humor.
“Yes, you do,” Calla answered. “Otherwise you know what’ll happen.” She grabbed the boy and wrapped her arm around his neck, rubbing her knuckles over the top of his head. Stevie gave out a shriek of mock terror and promised, between giggles, to be a model child.
Joanie was smiling as Brandon led her to the truck parked at the curb. He hadn’t even started the engine when he asked, “How much longer are we going to have to see the counselor?”
“Are you complaining already?” she asked.
“Joanie, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she insisted. “We’ve only been to six sessions. I’ve found Dr. Geist to be very helpful, haven’t you?”
After a moment’s silence, he said, “Not particularly.”
This was news to Joanie. “Why not?”
He took even longer to answer this time, long enough to drive through town and turn onto the highway, heading east to Grand Forks. “Dr. Geist is a woman,” he muttered.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Joanie demanded, unable to hide her annoyance.
“Plenty,” he shouted, just as angry. “She thinks the same way you do. The only reason I agreed to these sessions was so we could get back together. I didn’t know I was going to be expected to sit there for an hour every week to have my ego demolished.”
Joanie felt shocked by what she was hearing. “No one’s bashing you.”
“Then tell me why I come out of these sessions feeling like a big pile of horse manure.” His hands were tight on the steering wheel. “You want me to tell the world I’m a terrible husband? I admitted it once already. Wasn’t that enough for you?”
“I never said you were a bad husband, and besides, that’s in the past. All I want to do is build a better future for us both.” The tension between them grew, and sensing it, the baby started to fuss and then cry. Nothing Joanie did could quiet him.
“Now look what you’ve done,” she snapped, and even as she said it, she realized how unfair she was being.
“When the baby cries, it’s my fault now, along with everything else.”
Joanie ignored him while she struggled to comfort their son. Jason rested in the car seat between them, but everything she tried seemed to irritate him. With the baby’s wailing, plus the horrible tension between her and Brandon, Joanie soon felt like crying herself.
“I want you and the kids back home,” Brandon said, shouting to be heard above the baby. “I’d feel a lot better about everything if you were living on the farm.”
“It’s too soon,” Joanie muttered.
“Are you planning to walk out on me again?”
“I didn’t walk out on you the first time.”
“The hell you didn’t.”
He was speeding now, letting his anger affect his driving.
“Slow down!” she yelled. “You’re driving too fast.”
“So you intend to tell me how to drive, too! You’re trying to manipulate me and tell me how to live my life. You don’t want a husband, you want a whipping boy.”
“That’s not true, dammit!” She couldn’t believe he was doing this. Only minutes earlier, she’d been looking forward to this evening out. This was their weekly date, their time away from the kids, their chance to rebuild the foundation of their marriage. Her hope was that through these sessions with the counselor, they would rediscover one another and rekindle the desire that had once been so strong between them.
Brandon slowed down, and neither of them said a word. The baby eventually fell into a restless sleep, but the air throbbed with tension for the remainder of the drive into Grand Forks.
As they arrived at the outskirts, Joanie said, “Let’s just skip dinner, okay? I’m not hungry.” She couldn’t possibly relax and enjoy a meal with her husband now.
“Fine,” he said, his voice expressionless. “Whatever.”
Dr. Geist ushered them into her office soon after they entered the clinic. “Hello, Joanie,” she said, then smiled at Brandon. “Welcome, Brandon.”
She was a tall woman, thin as a sapling, with short white hair. The doctor at the pregnancy clinic in Fargo had given Joanie Dr. Geist’s name, and after a short interview by phone, Joanie had felt optimistic about the three of them working together.
“How was your week?” Dr. Geist asked, after they’d all had a chance to sit down.
Brandon looked down at his hands, so Joanie answered. “Good.”
“Fine,” Brandon muttered with little interest.
“Did you complete the homework assignment I gave you?”
“I did,” Joanie said, and reached for the diaper bag where she’d stuffed the folded sheet. Dr. Geist had asked them each to compile a list of strengths and an equal number of weaknesses.
“Brandon?”
He shook his head.
“Did the dog eat it?” Dr. Geist asked, giving him a humorous excuse.
“No,” he said flatly, “I didn’t do it. As far as I was concerned, it was a complete waste of my time and energy. I want my wife and family back. I’m not here to learn about my flaws and what a rotten husband I am.”
“No one’s—”
Brandon didn’t allow Dr. Geist to finish. “I want my wife back,” he said angrily. “I’m tired of living in an empty house. It’s been nearly twelve months since we made love. Condemn me if you want—”
“In other words, you just want me for sex?” Joanie asked through gritted teeth.
“No,” Brandon shouted, then changed his mind. “I wouldn’t object to us sleeping together, Joanie. In my opinion, these counseling sessions are useless.” He glared at Dr. Geist. “You want us to make lists? Fine, I’ll give you one. Ten reasons my wife and children belong with me. That’s the only kind of list you’re going to get.”
“Joanie,” Dr. Geist said calmly. “Are you ready to sleep with your husband?”
“No,” she said immediately. She wanted to rekindle more than desire. Yet sex seemed all Brandon wanted from her.
As far as she could see, he wasn’t really trying, wasn’t willing to do even the basic assignments Dr. Geist had charted out for them. He wanted everything, but was willing to give nothing.
“I’ve sacrificed a lot in order to save this marriage,” Brandon announced. “Nothing makes Joanie happy. It isn’t enough that she brought me to my knees, now she wants to walk all over me.”
“That’s not true,” she said, flushed with anger. “I’ve sacrificed, too.”
The entire session ended up being a shouting match between them. Joanie felt sick to her stomach by the time the hour was over.
As verbal as they’d been during the session, neither said a word on the ride home. What remained unspoken seemed louder than any disagreement
they’d ever had. When he pulled into Buffalo Valley, Brandon didn’t get out of the truck to help her with the baby or see her to the house.
Joanie paused at the curb, but knew she’d only do more damage if she said anything now. Brandon was determined to misread any comment she made. The second she’d stepped away from the truck, he drove off, tires squealing as he rounded the corner.
Swallowing the hurt, Joanie walked slowly toward the house, afraid it was too late for them both.
Three
Hassie Knight knew she was an old woman, but she’d never let that stand in her way. For years people had been telling her that someone her age was supposed to retire, to rest and take it easy. She’d always refused to listen. Until recently.
Last February she’d suffered a heart attack that had left her weak as a newborn. Too weak to undergo open-heart surgery like those fancy doctors wanted. When they’d first suggested she stay in the nursing home, Hassie was convinced it would’ve been better had she died. But life was full of surprises, and she’d actually enjoyed the rest and made several new friends.
Then, a couple of months later, her strength restored, she’d had the needed surgery; she’d even let her daughter fly in from Hawaii to fuss over her. By July, she was well enough to attend Gage Sinclair’s wedding to Lindsay Snyder.
It’d been the most memorable summer in more years than she wanted to count. She was back, working at the pharmacy part-time—or at least that was what she let everyone think. Only Leta knew she spent as many hours at the store as she always had.
Leta Betts was her best friend, and now, since Hassie’s heart attack, Leta was her employee, too. Although it was difficult to think of Leta in those terms. Seemed they had far too good a time for this to be considered work.
This particular Friday was a good example. Leta had spent the entire morning mounting a display of different-sized tissue boxes in the front of the store. That woman was more creative than Hassie had realized. Leta had carefully stacked the boxes into the shape of the Eiffel Tower. When she saw what her friend had done, Hassie laughed until her sides hurt. A replica of the Eiffel Tower in Buffalo Valley. My, it was enough to bring on the giggles every time she thought of it.
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