“Thanks,” Maddy said, grinning at Sarah’s polite description of the previously chaotic shelves. She liked Sarah and was surprised by how friendly and open the other woman had been with her, especially after what Lindsay had told her.
Ten minutes later, Sarah approached the cash register, and Maddy climbed down from the ladder again.
“I think your delivery service is a wonderful idea,” Sarah commented. “I know Jeb finds it a vast improvement over relying on me.”
“So far it’s working out very well,” Maddy said, although she’d only started her deliveries two weeks earlier. She found herself spending more time visiting than doing any actual delivering. People were cordial, usually insisting she stay for coffee, giving her an excuse to linger.
The only person she’d managed to miss seeing was Jeb, and she suspected he was purposely staying away in an effort to avoid her. Both visits, she’d left him short notes, extending a gentle hand of friendship.
“Have you talked to my brother recently?” Sarah asked, almost as if she’d been reading Maddy’s thoughts.
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. It must be a busy time of year for him.”
“Not any busier than any other time,” Sarah said, frowning. “I should have known Jeb would—” She stopped abruptly. “That brother of mine can be so damn stubborn.”
“He’s never married?” Maddy asked. Sarah had left the door open for questions and she was taking advantage of the opportunity.
“No. At the time of his accident he was dating a girl in Devils Lake. I never did find out what happened, but I think Jeb drove her away. He’s…he’s had a hard time adjusting…” She let the rest fade, as if she feared saying too much. “You did know about his accident, didn’t you?”
Maddy nodded. “Calla told me.”
“Everything changed after that.”
“It would be a difficult adjustment for anyone,” Maddy said, remembering her last visit with Jeb. His limp had been more pronounced than before.
Piling groceries from the cart onto the counter, Sarah glanced up at Maddy. “It’s going to take an extraordinary woman with a big heart to love my brother,” she said. She stared straight at Maddy, her eyes narrowed. “But I promise you, whoever makes the effort will be richly blessed. Jeb’s a special man.”
Sarah left soon afterward. However, their conversation lingered in Maddy’s mind. Two or three times, she lost track of what she was doing and had to refocus her attention on the task at hand. She sensed that Sarah was asking her to give Jeb a chance—exactly what she’d love to do.
Lindsay came by on her way home from school. “Hey,” she called when she entered the store. “This place is great.” She stood in the center by the cash register, and with her hands on her hips, did a complete rotation. “Bert and Larry sent me to check it out. My goodness, what’s come over you?”
“Craziness,” Maddy confessed, “but I can’t accept full credit or blame. The Loomis twins did most of the decorating.”
“So I heard.”
Walking over to the refrigerator unit, Maddy grabbed them each a cold soda. She handed one to Lindsay and then hopped onto the counter, legs dangling. Flipping open the can, she wondered how to introduce the subject of her conversation with Sarah Stern. Fortunately, she had no other customers just then.
“Sarah was in the store earlier,” she said. “By the way, she talked to your uncle Mike this morning and already has orders for her quilts.”
“Outstanding!”
“Sarah’s thrilled,” Maddy reported. “She likes what I’ve done with the store, too. We must’ve talked for twenty minutes.”
“About what?” Lindsay demanded.
Maddy shrugged. “This and that.”
“I haven’t had a twenty-minute conversation with Sarah ever. You know what I think?” Lindsay said, and extended her arm toward Maddy, the soda can in her hand. “People are naturally drawn to you.”
“Nonsense.” Maddy discounted that idea.
“Think about it,” Lindsay said. “It wasn’t me Margaret Clemens came to. Of all the women in Buffalo Valley, she chose you to be her friend. Although,” she said, attempting to hide a smile behind her drink, “I’m not sure that asking you to become her bosom buddy should be considered a compliment.”
Again Maddy shook her head. “I was the one who sought out Margaret.”
“Don’t overlook your talents, Maddy. I know you better than anyone and I can see you’re at it again.”
“At what?”
“It’s that generous nature of yours,” Lindsay said. “It’s like a magnet attracting every wounded heart around. Margaret is a perfect example.”
“She’s not.” Maddy wondered why she continued to argue when she knew what Lindsay said was true. All her life she’d tried to ease the emotional suffering of others. People seemed to know that instinctively.
“Margaret took one look at you and realized instantly that you were someone she could trust.”
“You’re exaggerating, as usual,” Maddy said dismissively.
“Didn’t you tell me there’s a housekeeper who’s been with the family for years?”
“Yes, but—”
“If Margaret wanted to learn about womanly wiles, don’t you think the housekeeper could have taught her?”
“Perhaps. I…I don’t know.”
“Well, I do,” Lindsay said matter-of-factly. “It isn’t only Margaret, either.”
Maddy knew what was coming. “If you’re going to mention Jeb McKenna, I want you to know you couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve only met him briefly and both times he made it abundantly clear that he prefers his own company.”
“But he interests you. You admitted it earlier.”
“You’re making far more of this than necessary,” Maddy insisted. However she knew Lindsay was right—more and more often, Jeb McKenna fell comfortably into her thoughts.
Jeb knew when to expect Dennis, and after checking the fence line on the northern border of his property, he headed back to the house. Not that a fence was any guarantee of containing bison. Experience had taught him early that anytime a buffalo could get his nose over a fence and wanted out, chances were he’d find a way. Although Jeb had never seen it himself, he’d heard that grown bulls could make a standing six-foot leap.
When he’d first decided to raise bison, someone had told him he could herd them anyplace they wanted to go. He’d built the sturdiest six-foot fence he could and left it at that.
Dennis was waiting for him when Jeb drove into the yard. His friend routinely made stops in the area, filling gasoline tanks for farm machinery. Jeb kept a small amount on hand, but he didn’t use much, not the way he had when he was farming.
As he neared Dennis, Jeb saw the beaten look on his friend’s face, and knew something was wrong. He guessed it had to do with Sarah—an easy guess, since anytime Dennis was unhappy, Sarah was invariably the cause. Little in this world frustrated Jeb more than his sister’s relationship with his best friend. He’d often wanted to take her by the shoulders and give her a good, hard shake. Dennis was as decent a husband as Sarah was likely to find, and if she hadn’t figured that out by now, something was seriously wrong with her brain.
“How’s it going?” Dennis asked with forced enthusiasm as Jeb walked toward him.
They exchanged handshakes. “You got time for coffee?” Jeb asked, and without waiting for a response, led the way into the house.
Jeb couldn’t look at the coffeemaker and not think of Maddy Washburn. His sister had manipulated him into town to meet the new grocer and now he was cursed with the memory.
“How’s business?” Jeb asked when Dennis remained characteristically silent.
“Never better.” A halfhearted grin came and went. “How ’bout you?”
“Good,” Jeb returned, thinking this was probably the blandest conversation of their long and involved history.
Dennis nodded.
“All right,” Jeb said, slappin
g his hand on the table. “What’s wrong?”
Their eyes met and held for a brief moment before Dennis expelled a sigh. “I tried talking to Calla about her mother and me.”
“It didn’t work?”
Dennis snorted, then paused long enough to sip his coffee. “Calla seems to think there’s a chance of Sarah reconciling with her ex.”
“The kid’s living in a dream world. Did you ask Sarah?”
His nod was slow in coming. Jeb watched the doubt and the hurt in his friend’s eyes, and for half a second he was afraid Dennis was going to tell him Sarah had confirmed Calla’s statement.
In many ways, Jeb blamed himself for his sister’s predicament. She’d left home shortly after her high-school graduation, eager to make her own way in the world. Even as a teenager, she’d loved sewing and shown real creativity. Soon after she arrived in Minneapolis, she’d gotten a job in a fabric store, but unfortunately hadn’t earned enough money to support herself. Never afraid of hard work, Sarah had also taken a part-time job at a convenience store. That was where she’d met Willie Stern.
She’d written home about Willie. Still naive, Sarah had believed everything the fast-talking bastard said. Soon he’d maneuvered Sarah into his bed, seducing her and then dumping her.
When she learned she was pregnant, Sarah had phoned Jeb, not knowing what to do and afraid to tell their parents. Playing the role of protective brother to the hilt, Jeb had driven to Minneapolis, found Willie and threatened to beat the crap out of him, until Willie agreed to marry Sarah. It’d been a stupid-ass mistake. Within a few weeks of their wedding, Willie was running around on her. Sarah had done her best to hide the truth from everyone, putting up with a miserable situation.
The one bright spot in his sister’s life was her daughter. Sarah had showered love and attention on young Calla. For nearly five years Sarah had done everything she could to work things out with Willie, but he was irresponsible, immature and didn’t know the meaning of the word faithful.
Calla not only brought Sarah joy, she’d been a blessing to their mother, as well. Calla had been her only grandchild. After her death, Sarah had moved home with Calla. Their father hadn’t asked any questions. No explanation was necessary as far as Joshua and Jeb were concerned. The marriage was over.
“You know I love your sister.”
Jeb was a respecter of privacy. He’d never asked Dennis or Sarah about their relationship. “If you’re worried about Sarah and Willie—”
“No,” Dennis said, cutting him off. “But I’m afraid it just isn’t going to work for either of us. I wanted you to know because, well, because I didn’t want you to think I’d ever intentionally do anything to hurt Sarah.”
“I know that, Dennis.”
He nodded shortly. “I just wanted to be sure you did.” Having said his piece, he stood and carried his half-full coffee mug to the sink. With a quick wave, he walked out the door.
The first thing Jeb wanted to do was grab the phone, privacy be damned, and call his sister, demanding to know what had happened. But he’d interfered in her life once before with disastrous results and was determined not to make that mistake again.
He had another reason, too. If he called Sarah and asked her about Dennis, his sister was guaranteed to mention Maddy Washburn. She found a way to work the woman’s name into every conversation—not that he needed any reminders.
Jeb reached inside his shirt pocket and withdrew the two notes she’d left on his kitchen table.
He’d hoped, no, assumed, that one of the eligible men in the vicinity—and there were plenty—would be dating her by now. A part of him had wanted to ask Dennis, casually bring Maddy into their discussion. Any number of men would welcome the opportunity to get to know a woman like Maddy.
Despite that, his gut tightened just thinking about her with another man. He’d become almost accustomed to the sensation, seeing that he experienced it nearly every day.
Last Thursday he’d forgotten, just briefly, that Maddy had delivered his groceries, but the instant he stepped into the house, he realized she’d been there. It took him a moment to understand what had triggered that recognition. Then he knew. It was the lingering scent of her perfume—a light, clean floral scent that had remained behind to taunt him.
Right away he’d looked over at the table and his heart had gladdened at the sight of a second note. This message had been as brief as the first one. She’d told him she was sorry to have missed him, just as she had the previous week. Then she’d mentioned that she’d read the same book he was currently reading and asked him who he thought the murderer was and if he’d figured it out; she hadn’t, she told him, not until the final scene.
The last line of her note stated simply that she’d see him next week. Not that she hoped to see him but that she would.
Jeb wondered if she was clairvoyant. Frankly, he doubted he could make himself stay away another Thursday afternoon.
Six
Maddy enjoyed Thursday afternoon more than any other day. Delivering supplies to the outlying ranches and farms had become one of her major activities for the week. While she was away, the Loomis twins minded the store and thrived on the responsibility.
She’d come to enjoy her time with Margaret Clemens, and found the rancher’s daughter quite charming in her own way. Beneath that rough and tough exterior was a shy, rather naive young woman. In Maddy’s opinion, Margaret was undergoing something of an identity crisis. She’d always been one of the boys, but she was a woman with a woman’s heart and a woman’s desire for home and family. Margaret talked incessantly about Matt Eilers, the neighboring rancher who’d captured her fancy. It was clear she was in love for the first time in her life.
Generally Maddy spent an hour or so chatting with Margaret, then she went on to Jeb McKenna’s ranch. He’d been at the ranch the past two weeks, and it had cheered her considerably to see him. He didn’t have a lot to say, but that was all right; Maddy figured she talked enough for both of them. They’d developed a sort of pattern: he’d insist on carrying his groceries inside himself and she’d follow him into the kitchen. Then he’d offer her coffee and they’d chat a while about books and TV or he’d tell her about bison. She never stayed longer than twenty minutes, but those were the best twenty minutes of her week. As soon as she left, she found herself looking forward to the next Thursday, when she’d be back.
For years Maddy had been so caught up in her job there simply wasn’t time for committed relationships. A few men had drifted in and out of her life, but no one she’d ever been really serious about. Then, just a few years ago, her parents had divorced. Despite the fact that she was an adult—and a social worker who’d seen plenty of broken marriages—Maddy was devastated by what had happened in her own family and shied away from relationships. She greatly admired her mother for the way she’d pulled her life back together and while she loved her father, Maddy wanted to shake some sense into him. He’d married a woman only two years older than Maddy and lavished her with gifts and vacations that rightfully belonged to Maddy’s mother. In Maddy’s opinion, anyway.
Although tainted by her parents’ bitter divorce, she recognized that she wanted a husband and, eventually, children. Seeing Lindsay’s happiness with Gage had created a strong yearning within Maddy to find that kind of contentment for herself. They had her out to their place once a week for dinner and she always left feeling warmed by their love and friendship—and lonelier than before.
Julie Pounder’s death had been the catalyst that caused Maddy to leave social work, but she’d resigned for other reasons, as well. She’d wanted her life back.
Once she’d moved to Buffalo Valley, it didn’t take long to meet single men. In fact, she’d been asked out by half a dozen men already, and kicked herself because she’d turned down each request. She’d hemmed and hawed and made excuses because she was waiting for Jeb McKenna to issue an invitation. He was the man she wanted to know better, the man who stirred her heart. Who dominated her th
oughts.
November had hit North Dakota with a vengeance. It was hard to believe that just six weeks earlier they’d had such a beautiful Indian summer, with eighty-degree weather. That Thursday afternoon in mid-November, Maddy packed up the back of her Bronco and headed out to make her routine deliveries. The Grand Forks radio station forecast snow and Maddy listened to the frequent weather reports as she drove from place to place making her rounds.
Unlike previous weeks, Margaret Clemens wasn’t waiting for her when she arrived at the Triple C Ranch. “Where’s Margaret?” Maddy asked the housekeeper as she carried in the groceries.
Sadie shook her head as she used the spatula to lift freshly baked cookies onto a wire rack to cool.
Maddy shucked off one glove and helped herself to a chocolate chip cookie.
Sadie slapped her hand, then pointed the spatula in the direction of the yard. “You might check the barn.”
“She knew I was coming, didn’t she?”
Sadie gave a resigned shrug. “Far as I know. She’s got a burr under her saddle about something.”
On previous visits, Margaret had all but run to the car, anxiously awaiting Maddy’s arrival, eager to chat about what she called “girl things.” The snow had started to fall, but Maddy wasn’t comfortable leaving until she found out what had upset Margaret.
As Maddy left the house, the snow and driving wind stung her face, and she rushed from the house to the barn. She was dressed warmly and had worn boots, although she wished now she’d brought a scarf, as well. She pushed open the barn door; sure enough, Margaret was inside, shoveling hay. The not-unpleasant scent of horses and alfalfa greeted her, despite the cold.
“Hello,” she called when Margaret didn’t immediately acknowledge her.
Margaret glanced over her shoulder.
“Sadie told me I’d find you in here.” She walked farther into the barn, wondering what could be wrong.
“Hi,” Margaret said with a decided lack of enthusiasm. Silently she pitched another forkful of hay into one of the stalls, her back to Maddy.
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