Dakota Born (21 page)

“I don't,” he was quick to assure her. “Just curious, is all.”

“Well, don't be. It's none of your business.”

He chuckled at that. “A little defensive, don't you think?”

“Me? You're the one who leaps to conclusions.”

Gage didn't respond, and the silence grew oppressive. But Lindsay held her ground, refusing to apologize.

It wasn't long before city lights appeared in the distance. “That's Grand Forks,” Gage told her. “The airport's north of town.”

“We're almost there, then?”

“Another fifteen minutes.”

When they reached the airport, Lindsay expected Gage to drop her off and head home. Instead, he parked the car, then carried both bags into the small terminal for her. He stood back while she checked in at the airline counter and received her boarding pass.

“You don't need to wait with me,” she told him, thinking he'd want to leave.

“I know, but I thought I would.”

They sat next to each other like silent strangers while they waited for her flight to be announced. The terminal wasn't big, and it seemed half of Grand Forks was either coming or going on this same evening.

When her flight was called, Lindsay got quickly to her feet. “That's me,” she told him.

Gage stood, too.

She swung the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I appreciate the ride,” she said. “Thank you…”

He acknowledged her words with a nod. “Happy Thanksgiving, Lindsay.”

“You, too.” Her reluctance to leave came as a surprise, but she tried not to let it show. With her purse and her carry-on bag secure in her hands, she turned to line up with the others boarding the same flight.

“Lindsay.” His voice sounded desperate, and she turned back, wondering what she'd forgotten.

Gage gripped her by the shoulders, his eyes as intense as she'd ever seen them. Then, abruptly, he kissed her—and she returned the kiss. Lindsay understood that Gage was saying with his kiss what he hadn't been able to tell her earlier. That he was sorry.

He broke away from her just as suddenly. “Come back, Lindsay,” he said, his eyes burning into hers. “Come back.”

Minutes for the November 24th meeting of the Buffalo Valley Town Council

T
hanksgiving morning, Joanie Wyatt woke with a queasy stomach. Brandon was already up, feeding and tending the animals, and she could hear the children stirring upstairs. Sage and Stevie were both eager to spend the holiday with their grandparents and cousins. Joanie had hoped to be on the road before dawn, but if this dizziness and nausea continued, she might have to cancel her plans. For the children's sake, she hoped not. For her sake, as well.

She needed to get away from the farm and, sadly, from her own husband. Undoubtedly he needed a break from her, too. How could two people who obviously loved each other let their marriage deteriorate to this point? It was easy to blame Brandon, but Joanie knew she was also at fault.

“I thought you'd have left by now,” Brandon said when he stepped into the kitchen and found her still in her pajamas. His cheeks were red with cold and he rubbed his hands together briskly.

“I was hoping to leave early, but it didn't work out that way.”

“The kids are packed and ready to go.”

“I know,” she said irritably. He sounded as though he
wanted
to be rid of them. “I'm feeling a little queasy this morning,” she muttered as she heard the children bounding down the stairs.

“There's a flu bug going around,” Brandon commented casually. “Hassie came down with it last week.”

“I think I'll make an appointment with Dr. Baker in Grand Forks when I get back,” Joanie said, as she poured them each a freshly brewed mug of coffee.

“Why see a doctor when it's just the flu? There isn't anything he can do, is there?”

Joanie tensed at the suggestion that she'd spend money frivolously. “I haven't been feeling well for a while. Why are you so angry?” She hadn't had a physical since Stevie was born, and lately there'd been the dizzy spells, the lack of appetite, the depression.

Her husband sat down at the kitchen table and stared blankly into space. “If we could put off any extra expense just now, I'd appreciate it.”

“But we have health insurance and—”

“No, we don't,” he said, cutting her off.

“We don't have health insurance?” Joanie repeated, stunned at the news.

“I missed a few payments and it got cancelled,” Brandon said, his voice defensive.

He hadn't even told her. “But how could you let our health insurance lapse? What if something happened to one of the kids or I needed an operation or—”

“I feel enough of a failure without you ramming it down my throat. It was either that or the electric bill. I didn't mean for it to happen. Dammit, Joanie, I can't work any harder than I already am.”

Joanie didn't need to be reminded that the payments on the washer and dryer stretched their budget to the limit. Those payments might not be much but she knew it was money that should have gone toward the four-hundred-dollar a month health insurance premiums.

Before she could comment, Brandon left the house.

“Mom?” Sage stood in the doorway leading into the kitchen. “Are you and Daddy fighting again?” she asked in a small voice.

Joanie held her arms open to her daughter and tried to hide the hurt she felt by comforting her child.

“Why is Daddy so mad all the time?” Sage pressed.

“He isn't angry with us,” Joanie said, hoping to reassure her.

“I wish Daddy would come to Grandma and Grandpa's with us,” Sage whispered, her arms tight around Joanie's neck.

“I wish he would, too.”

Brandon didn't return to the house before Joanie left. The kids raced into the barn to kiss him goodbye and then piled into the car. Joanie waited, leaning against the steering wheel. If he wasn't going to come to her, she'd leave without another word. She wouldn't seek him out.

In a festive mood, the children sang and chatted excitedly on the trip to Fargo. Joanie was silent for most of the drive, brooding on her fears and problems, still hurt by Brandon's behavior that morning. When they arrived at her parents' house, Peg and Leon Bouchard greeted them with huge hugs and shouts of joy.

Joanie's father carried in the suitcases while her mother ushered her into the kitchen, happy and flustered with all her children and grandchildren home. She reviewed the menu for Joanie's benefit. The house was redolent with mouth-watering scents: roasting turkey, sage-and-onion stuffing. A variety of homemade pies—mincemeat, pumpkin and apple—lined the countertops, along with a number of festive serving bowls waiting to be filled.

“Jay, Kelly and the kids are off seeing Dan Jefferson and his family,” her mother said conversationally. “You remember Dan, don't you? He was good friends with your brother in high school.”

“Of course I remember Dan. How is he?” Joanie helped herself to a crescent roll, eating for the first time that day. Whatever had been wrong with her stomach earlier seemed to have disappeared, and she was grateful. She opened a can of black olives and placed them inside a small crystal dish, then reached for a jar of pickles she'd brought from the farm. Last year's crop had yielded several dozen jars, and they were exceptionally good.

“How are you?” her mother asked, crouching in front of the open refrigerator to remove a gelatin salad.

“I'm fine.”

There must have been something in her voice because her mother paused in her task and turned to look at Joanie. “How are you
really?
”

Unwilling to discuss the details of her unhappiness, Joanie shrugged.

“You look like you've lost weight.” Peg set the salad on the counter and studied her daughter closely. “Weight you can ill afford to lose, I might add.”

“I'm fine. Mother, please, let's not get into this now.” Everything about the way she'd been feeling was beginning to add up in her mind, and she didn't want to think about it. Not today when she was surrounded by family.

“I wondered if Brandon would come,” her mother muttered, frowning.

“It hurt us financially when the grain prices came in so low. Things are hard for him just now.”

Her mother reached across the table to touch her cheek. “You never were very good at hiding things from me. What's wrong, Joanie? Why are you so unhappy?”

“I'm happy. It's just that I haven't been feeling well lately,” she confessed with some reluctance.

“Have you seen a doctor?”

Joanie dropped her gaze. “We don't have any health insurance.”

“No health insurance?” she cried. “That does it! I'm taking you to see a doctor myself, first thing tomorrow morning. Dr. Carson is open, I'm almost sure of it, and if he's not, then I'll find someone who is.”

Joanie closed her eyes. “Mother, please don't. I'm fine, really.”

“I knew something was wrong the minute I saw you.”

Joanie was warmed by her mother's love and concern—and suddenly her growing worry seemed to overwhelm her. She'd been so lonely the last while, bearing her fears and regrets by herself. “If you must know, I think I might be pregnant.” It didn't seem likely, since they'd only made love a few times. Besides, Joanie was on the Pill—well, admittedly she'd gotten lax in the past few months. She and Brandon made love so infrequently it barely mattered if she took the pills or not, she'd assumed. It was the stress, she'd told herself repeatedly. Stress and worry had interfered with her monthly cycle.

As Peg tried to reassure her, Sage and Stevie's laughter could be heard from the other room. Her father was wonderful with the children, and Joanie wished Brandon paid that kind of attention to them. All he did was work.

Late fall and winter was usually a slack time, but Brandon was putting in as many hours now as he had during harvest.

Thanksgiving day with her family was wonderful, full of laughter and shared family stories. Joanie tried not to think about Brandon home alone. It'd been his choice to stay behind, and in fact he'd seemed happy enough to be sending her and the children away.

After the big turkey dinner, with her mother's special dressing and Joanie and Jay's favorite cranberry salad, Joanie took a two-hour nap in her old bedroom, sleeping in her childhood bed. The kids were content playing with their cousins. They fell asleep in front of the television at ten that night.

On Friday, the appointment with the photographer wasn't scheduled until the afternoon. True to her word, Peg Bouchard scheduled an appointment for Joanie with Dr. Carson, a longtime family friend, that morning. He'd known Joanie most of her life.

While her mother sat in the waiting room, Dr. Carson gave her a physical and asked her a number of questions. He had his nurse draw blood, collected a urine sample, and after several minutes, escorted her into his private office to talk.

“Did you know you're pregnant, Joanie?”

“I suspected as much,” she murmured. “I'm on the Pill, but—”

“How faithful have you been about taking it?”

She sighed and looked down at her hands, letting her hair fall forward to hide the emotion in her face. “I guess I missed more often than I realized,” she whispered.

“This pregnancy isn't welcome?”

His words jolted her, and Joanie broke into huge sobs. She could only imagine what Brandon would say when she told him. Without health insurance they'd have to carry the full brunt of the medical expenses on their own. Problems with her second pregnancy had resulted in a cesarean birth, so having a midwife deliver the child at home was no longer an option. A hospital stay would cost thousands of dollars, far beyond what they could afford.

Brandon would blame her for letting this happen. She was the one who'd been careless with the birth control pills. A pregnancy now would only confirm his feelings of failure.

Dr. Carson handed her a tissue. “Would you like me to get your mother for you?”

Weeping uncontrollably, Joanie nodded.

When Peg entered the room, Joanie looked at her mother and sobbed. “Oh, Mom, I don't know what I'm going to do.”

“What is it, Joanie?
Are
you pregnant?”

She nodded, barely able to speak.

“Sweetheart, that's wonderful news!”

“Brandon won't think so—he doesn't want another baby.”

“Joanie, give him a chance. Once you tell him—”

“No.” Joanie was adamant. “I'm not telling him. I don't even want him to know until I decide what I'm going to do about this marriage. Oh, Mom, I'm so confused.”

 

On the Friday after Thanksgiving, Lindsay and Maddy did their part to ensure that this was the biggest shopping day of the year. Exhausted, Lindsay sat in her friend's living room, her legs stretched out and her feet on the coffee table.

Together they'd hit the mall in the predawn hours, hoping to catch the early-shopper bargains, and hadn't stopped until late afternoon. Lindsay had bought enough to require an additional suitcase to take all her purchases—including some new sweaters, underwear, books and videos—back to Buffalo Valley.