Dakota Born

“How much?” she repeated with a frown. “Do you think I was coming to you for money?”

He didn’t answer and wanted to kick himself at her look of pain. “I don’t need a loan, Bob. In fact, I don’t need anything.” She was out of the chair and his office faster than he could stop her.

“Merrily,” he called, following her as she dashed up the stairs to her room at the farthest end of the hotel. “Merrily!”

She whirled around and would have slammed the door, but he wedged it open with his foot. “What did I say?” he asked. He thought she’d come to him for money, and he’d give it to her, as much as he could, because he loved her. Because there was damn little in this world he wouldn’t give her.

“You think I want money.”

He didn’t know what to say when he saw the tears on her cheeks. “Don’t you?”

“Well, sure, everyone wants money, but that wasn’t what I was going to talk to you about.”

“What were you going to say then?” he asked patiently.

“I … I was just going to tell you that you didn’t have to pay me this week.”

“Not pay you?” He wasn’t sure he understood. “Why not?”

“Because!” she cried, angry all over again. “You’re worried about what that repair on the refrigerator cost, and you might not have enough.”

His heart melted at her words. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yes, you idiot.”

“Oh.” For once he found himself speechless.

“Forget I offered, okay?”

Buffalo Bob shook his head. He wasn’t going to forget; in fact, he was going to remember it for a very long time.

Merrily swiped the back of her hand across her face and offered him a feeble smile. “Go back to paying your bills and I’ll start thawing those pot roasts.” She hurried past him on her way to the kitchen, but he reached out a hand to stop her.

Merrily glanced over her shoulder.

“Thanks,” he said.

She smiled, kissed him briefly on the lips, then ran lightly down the stairs.

Lindsay was delighted that her parents had decided to accompany her to Buffalo Valley. Her dad drove his truck, pulling the U-Haul trailer, while Lindsay followed behind in her own car, Mutt and Jeff, her dogs, traveling with her. They were mixed breeds, poodle and spaniel, easygoing dogs who loved car rides.

Leaving Savannah hadn’t been easy for a lot of reasons, but particularly because of Monte. It’d taken several confrontations before he’d accept that he wasn’t going to be able to cajole her into staying. As she prepared for her departure, he’d become angry, insisting she’d be back.

He was right, of course, but when she did return, he would be completely and totally out of her life.

Maddy had cheered her decision and even helped her pack. Lindsay knew she could count on her friend’s support and encouragement during the next year. They’d parted with promises to keep in touch.

Traveling with two dogs and all her worldly possessions made for a much slower trip this time around. Six days after they left Savannah, the Snyders pulled into Buffalo Valley and parked in front of Knight’s Pharmacy.

Her father climbed down from the truck and looked around as if seeing the town for the first time. His last visit had been three years earlier, when he’d come to move his father to Savannah. The trip had been quick and made in the middle of winter. Lindsay wondered just how much he’d noticed.

Hands on his hips, he stood there for a long moment. When their eyes met, Lindsay saw his doubts and worries, and she tried to reassure him with a smile. She knew what she was doing. He needn’t worry about her.

Lindsay attached the leashes to Mutt and Jeff before she opened the car door. She, too, studied the town that was to be her home for the next year. It did look bleak and sad. Ever the optimist, she’d convinced herself it wasn’t as shabby as she remembered. But it was. Worse, even. Still, she didn’t let that dissuade her.

“Lindsay, look!” her mother said, pointing to a banner strung between Hansen’s Grocery and Knight’s Pharmacy.

Someone had taken an old white sheet and painted WELCOME, MISS SNYDER in bright red paint across it.

This simple greeting completely changed the grim reality of Buffalo Valley.

“Lindsay.” Hassie stepped out of the pharmacy and threw open her arms. “Welcome back.”

After hugging the older woman, Lindsay introduced her parents. “You remember my dad, don’t you? This is Brian and my mother, Kathleen.”

“Brian, of course. Oh my, you do look good. Come in, come in. The whole town’s been waiting for you. You made good time.” Chattering happily, Hassie ushered them inside.

Lindsay and her parents had just sat down at the soda fountain when others started to arrive. Jacob Hansen was the first. He came in from the grocery store across the street.

“We got your cupboards stocked with a few of the necessities,” he told Lindsay.

“My cupboards?”

“At the house,” he explained. “That’s our way of thanking you.”

“Oh … thank you.” Lindsay hadn’t expected anyone to do that.

“It wasn’t only me and Marta,” Jacob was quick to tell her. “We had a pounding last Monday night. Practically everyone in town contributed something.”

Lindsay had never heard of such a thing and turned to her mother, who explained, “Everyone brings a pound of something to stock the kitchen.”

“How thoughtful!”

“The high-school kids repainted the inside of the house,” Hassie told her. “Did a good job, too.”

“Your grandmother had the wallpaper stripped off years ago,” her mother said. “Most homes this age were wallpapered, but your grandmother Gina liked a more modern look.”

“Joshua McKenna contributed the paint,” the grocer leaned forward to say. “You remember Joshua, don’t you? He’s the president of the town council.”

“But the kids picked out the color.” A tall, rather attractive brunette approached her and held out her hand. “I’m Sarah Stern, Joshua’s daughter, and my Calla’s going to be one of your students.”

“Hi, I’m Lindsay.” More and more people filled the pharmacy, and she raised her voice. “Like I told Hassie when I phoned to ask about the job, I’ve never taught school before and I’m going to need a lot of help.”

“You got it,” Buffalo Bob shouted, giving her a thumbs-up sign. “We got all-you-can-eat spaghetti tonight, and Lindsay and her folks eat for free.”

A cheer went up, and Lindsay exchanged smiles with her parents, although she couldn’t help noting the hesitation in her mother’s eyes when she looked at the restaurant owner.

“You need help unloading that trailer?” Lindsay’s gaze fell on a man wearing a uniform shirt advertising a brandname gasoline. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “Dennis Urlacher,” he said. “From this welcome, you can guess we’re pleased to see you.”