Dakota Born (25 page)

Rachel had never eaten at Mulligan's and was pleased to discover that the restaurant's glowing reviews had been accurate. They both ordered steak and shared a bottle of red wine. She found their conversation equally delightful. He told her about his travels and she was fascinated by the places he'd been and the things he'd seen and done. She could have listened to him forever.

“Lindsay told me how much the high-school kids enjoyed it when you came to talk,” she said when the conversation moved closer to home.

He smiled. “It was fun for me, too. Originally I was going to discuss banking, checking accounts and so on, but we got sidetracked and one thing led to another. Soon I was talking about my travels. Luckily I'd thought to bring along some foreign money and a few other mementos.”

According to Lindsay, Heath had enthralled the high-school students. He'd brought not only an English pound, French francs and more, but an Italian goblet dating from the 1600s, an Egyptian flag and a petrified branch from the Alps. Each article had a story behind it and these stories had led to one of the liveliest afternoons of the school year. Lindsay said the kids had begged to have him return.

The restaurant was getting ready to close when Heath finally suggested they leave. They hurried through the cold to his car and quickly got inside.

“Oh, Heath, I had such a wonderful evening.”

“I did, too,” he said, smiling at her.

Warm and happy, Rachel leaned her head against the back of the seat and sighed. “You sure know how to make a girl happy, don't you?”

“I try.”

She laughed softly at his response.

When they arrived in Buffalo Valley and he'd parked in front of her house, Heath said, “Are you going to invite me in for coffee?”

“Do you want me to?”

“That would be nice.”

“Then consider yourself invited.”

Like the gentleman he was, Heath helped Rachel out of the car. He followed her into the kitchen and watched her prepare a pot of coffee.

“It isn't really coffee that interests me,” he told her.

“Oh?”

“It's you.”

“Oh, Heath…”

He led her back to the living room and pulled her into his lap as he sat on the sofa. Rachel slid her arms around his neck and kissed him. She felt a tenderness growing inside her because of the things Heath made her feel. Because of his gentleness and his kindness and his interesting stories. Because of his kisses…

He kissed her again, more urgently than before. “I never guessed it would be like this with you,” he whispered. He angled his head and dropped a succession of kisses along her throat until she moaned softly. He made a small sound of his own, then quickly joined their mouths again.

Rachel felt weak with desire. Her head was clouded with wine and kisses.

“You chose a very beautiful dress,” he murmured before another lengthy kiss. “I just wish it wasn't one with a zipper down the back.”

She heard the hissing sound as it opened and maneuvered her arms so that he was able to loosen the bodice. His hands found her breasts and she moaned as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, which responded immediately.

“I've been all over the world,” Heath told her between soul-searing kisses. “And all along you've been right here.”

He said the most romantic things.

“We're going to make love, Rachel—”

Her eyes flew open. “Now?”

“Tonight.” He sounded so confident, so sure of himself.

“Heath.” She placed her hands on either side of his face and looked down at him. “I'm not ready for that to happen. Not yet.”

His eyes revealed his confusion. “What do you mean? I thought—”

“I didn't realize what you thought and if I had, I would've set you straight. It's too soon.”

“But you had Mark spend the night with Lindsay.”

“That wasn't because I was planning to sleep with you!”

“You don't expect me to drive all the way to Grand Forks tonight, do you?” His words were light, teasing, but there was an underlying disappointment.

“No.”

“Good.” His face relaxed.

“Buffalo Bob will appreciate the business.”

He frowned, as though he didn't quite believe her.

“Heath, I don't know where you got the impression that I'd be willing to jump into bed with you on our first date, but you've been misinformed.”

He stared at her.

“What's the matter, hasn't a woman ever turned you down before?” she asked softly, making a joke of it.

“As a matter of fact, no.” He removed her from his lap and stood up, still looking bewildered. “I don't understand.” He rammed his fingers through his hair. “We kiss, and I feel like I'm about to explode while you sit there, all calm and collected.”

“I like your kisses, too, but I'm not about to do something I'll regret later. I have a reputation to consider, and maybe it's a bit old-fashioned in this day and age, but I do have certain values.”

He paced back and forth but didn't speak.

“I'm genuinely sorry if I misled you,” she said.

“You haven't misled me,” he growled. “I got your message loud and clear. You're looking for a man who's more of a saint than I'll ever be. Good luck to you, Rachel. I hope you find him—but he isn't me.”

G
age escorted his mother into the old theater and had to admit he was impressed with the changes. His own contribution had been an earlier part of the whole process, when it looked as if Lindsay—and Hassie—were asking the impossible. The task of renovating the boarded-up movie house had seemed hopeless, but the job was done. He admired Lindsay's grit and determination. Before he knew how it'd happened, he was doing carpentry and plastering, and after that he'd found himself painting walls and washing light fixtures along with just about everyone else. Once again, the community had come together for a common goal because of Lindsay. First the school, then the theater…Even Jacob and Marta Hansen had contributed—without their usual long list of complaints.

The old theater had responded graciously to the attention and, looking around, he saw hints of its former glory. Now a Christmas tree stood where there'd once been a player organ, and someone—Gage suspected Lindsay—had strung evergreen boughs around the huge room.

“Oh, look, Gage,” Leta said, nodding to the left. “The Hunters are here.”

Gage recognized a number of people he hadn't seen in a long time. Word had spread quickly about this Christmas play. Farmers and ranchers from various neighboring towns had come and brought their families. There were so few entertainment opportunities available to the region these days.

“It does my heart good to see all these people,” his mother added.

Every seat was filled, and if Lindsay hadn't reserved the first few rows for the parents and families of the high-school class, Gage figured he'd be lucky to find two seats together.

He ushered his mother to their fifth-row seats, then sat down himself. He didn't like to think about what would happen at the end of the school year. He knew he wanted Lindsay to stay, but he didn't count on it.

She'd brought energy and hope when she'd moved to Buffalo Valley. Her enthusiasm had affected the entire community. Here it was, the end of a year that had been filled with bad news, and people were laughing and talking. There was a sense of festivity, of excitement. Instead of concentrating on what they lacked, people, himself included, were grateful for what they had. He would never be a rich man by the world's standards. Yet he had everything he needed to be happy, and he thanked the new schoolteacher for reminding him of that.

Lindsay was responsible for a lot of the good things that were taking place in Buffalo Valley. Kevin actually looked forward to classes, and Gage was well aware that his brother's renewed enthusiasm for school could largely be attributed to Lindsay. Not since grade school had Kevin shown such eagerness to learn.

But it was more than that. Kevin talked more freely to Gage now, and had even shown him a few of his art projects. The boy had talent and had beamed with pride when Gage said so.

Having members of the town come in as guest speakers every Friday afternoon had inspired pride in each of these visitors. Joshua McKenna walked a little taller these days, since it was his talk about Dakota history that had inspired the play. Much of the furniture for the set had come from his store and he'd helped with the lighting, as well. One of Sarah's quilts was used in the play, too, and an old blanket chest of Hassie's.

Lindsay had motivated the people of Buffalo Valley to show this generosity, this pride in who they were. She'd given them a way to recapture a spirit of community—and of Christmas. Maybe not all of them would admit that, but Gage knew it to be true.

He supposed he'd fallen in love with her that first day he'd met her, last summer. Try as he might, he'd been unable to forget her. When she'd accepted the job and moved to Buffalo Valley he'd tried to ignore her, knowing, as he had at their first meeting, that she could become someone important in his life.

What they'd learned about their grandparents had brought them closer. Gage felt a genuine kinship with Lindsay, and an appreciation for the sacrifices his grandfather had made. Lindsay seemed confident that her grandmother had always loved Jerome Sinclair; by the same token, Gage knew his grandfather had loved Gina Snyder with an equal passion. He wouldn't have stayed out of her life otherwise.

“I can hardly wait,” Leta said, after she'd settled into her seat. “Oh, I hope nothing goes wrong.” Gage couldn't remember his mother being this nervous about anything—not even dinner with Father McGrath. Kevin didn't have an actual role in the play, but he'd designed and painted the scenery, spending long afternoons on the project, and he was the assistant stage manager, or “ASM” as he told them importantly.

Gage read the program and noted that Buffalo Bob had taken advantage of the promotional opportunity with a full-page advertisement—including a ten-percent off coupon. He'd sponsored the printing of both the program and the posters, which had been designed by Rachel Fischer and hung in three different counties.

Many families would make use of the dinner coupon. Gage suspected Buffalo Bob would do more business in the next three nights than at any other time since he'd opened his doors.

Chalk another one up for Lindsay. Hiring her had been a boon to their town's economy.

“Look,” his mother said proudly, pointing to Kevin's name in the program. All twelve members of the high school, plus a handful of younger students, were listed. Lindsay had also made sure that everyone who'd worked on getting the theater ready had received an acknowledgment.

The chatter lowered to an excited hush as the curtain parted and Lindsay stepped center stage. The lights were in her eyes; Gage could tell from the way she squinted. She was nervous and struggling to hide it, holding a small white card in a death grip, her gaze nervously darting around the full auditorium. Gage liked to think she was seeking him out and he smiled at her, trying to lend her confidence.

But when she spoke, her voice was strong and sure. “Good evening, everyone,” she said. “I want to welcome each of you to our Christmas play. I'm happy to announce that we're sold out for the first night. The box office just informed me there's standing room only.”

Enthusiastic applause followed.

When she left the stage, Gage was gratified by the cheers and loud clapping. She deserved it.

The play was everything he'd known it would be. Lindsay's students had taken incidents from their grandparents' lives and built a play around their hardships and triumphs. People had made memorable Christmas celebrations out of very little in those days—some homemade gifts and decorations, a community carol-singing service, dinner with family and friends.

It was fascinating to watch these kids play their own grandparents. The Loomis twins had talents Gage would never have guessed. People had been complaining about them for years, but Lindsay had found a way to channel their boisterous energy into a creative endeavor. Rachel Fischer's son, Mark, did a good job, too, in his small role as the youngest son of a desperate farmer. Gage glanced around, surprised to find Rachel sitting with Hassie. Heath Quantrill was nowhere to be seen. No one had said anything to Gage, but he'd thought there was some romantic interest between those two. Well, maybe Heath couldn't make it tonight; maybe he'd see the play tomorrow.

When it was over, the actors, holding hands, took two curtain calls, their faces flushed with pleasure at the overwhelming response to their efforts. As the audience filed out of the theater, Milly Spencer played Christmas carols on her flute.

Once outside, Gage saw several people heading for Buffalo Bob's, and wondered if he'd had the foresight to hire additional help. He'd been running the place without Merrily, telling everyone who asked that she'd be back sooner or later. In Gage's opinion, the person he was really trying to convince was himself.

Both Gage and Leta had been invited to Lindsay's house for a cast party following the play. His mother had baked several batches of Christmas cookies, and Gage had volunteered to mix a punch—two versions, one for the kids, the other for adults.

Hassie had gone ahead to open the house and put the dogs in the back bedroom, and by the time his mother had finished visiting with people, Gage saw that the students were closing down the theater.

Gage arrived only a couple of minutes before Lindsay. He hadn't even taken his coat off yet when she walked into the house. She went directly to him. He wished they could be alone for a few minutes, but since that wasn't possible, he reached for her hand.

“You did a wonderful job. Everyone did.”

Her smile was big enough to drown in. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him, happiness radiating from her. “I'm so
proud
of everyone. The kids were wonderful and it felt as if, for the first time, the whole community was behind me.”

“You have a right to be proud. Include yourself in this, Lindsay—you did some fabulous work here.”

Christmas music played softly. The high-school class congregated in one corner, their parents in another. Excited, the students chatted nonstop, reliving the play scene by scene, recounting their mistakes, and giggling at the way they'd managed to pull the whole thing off.

In the kitchen, Gage prepared the Christmas punch—with rum and without—then returned to the living room, where he stood back and listened. Before long, Hassie, his mother and Lindsay carried in plates of holiday goodies and set them about the room.

He was astonished at the speed with which the food disappeared. The kids descended on his mother's fancy Christmas cookies and Hassie's popcorn balls and Lindsay's cheese and crackers as if they'd only just discovered food. Sipping his drink—the rum version—he shook his head in amazement.

The students and their parents left en masse an hour later, and both Hassie and his mother were suddenly absent, leaving him with Lindsay.

“Alone at last,” he said, pulling her into his embrace. She didn't object and slid her hands up his chest, linking her fingers behind his neck. He knew she was exhausted and he should leave, too, but he couldn't make himself go. Not yet.

“This has been an incredible night, one of the best of my entire life.” Her eyes sparkled like jewels.

Not kissing her then would have been impossible. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“You're coming for Christmas?” His mother had told him only yesterday that she planned to invite Lindsay to the farmhouse for the day. Until then, he'd assumed she'd be flying home.

“I'll be there.”

“Good.” He kissed the bridge of her nose. “So will I.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I have a wonderful surprise.”

“For me?”

“No.” She giggled softly.

“Then who?”

“Kevin.”

“Tell me,” he ordered.

Her beautiful eyes met his. “I shouldn't, but this is too good to keep to myself. I had Kevin research art schools and asked him if he could choose any two, which ones would he pick. He told me, but said it was a wasted effort because there's no way on earth he could ever attend.”

“There isn't.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Lindsay said, kissing him again. “I wrote to each school and told them about Kevin and included samples of his work.”

Gage went still, dread working through him.

“They've both sent me letters full of praise for his talent and included applications, plus scholarship information. Gage, there's a very good possibility Kevin could get a scholarship.”

Gage said nothing.

“Isn't that wonderful?” Her expressive eyes registered her surprise at his lack of response.

“No. Kevin's a farmer, not an artist.”

“But…”

“I don't mean to discourage you, Lindsay, but this is an area that's none of your concern. Kevin's attending agricultural college, and that's it. I can't afford to send him—”

“There might very well be a scholarship, and—”

“Lindsay, please, I don't want to argue. Not tonight. We'll talk about it another day. Tell Kevin, if you must, but keep in mind that it won't make any difference.” Unwilling to end their evening on a sour note, Gage kissed her one last time, then hurried across the street to pick up his mother who was over at Hassie's.

 

“Is Uncle Jeb coming for Christmas dinner?” Calla demanded, standing just inside the kitchen.

Sarah Stern slid the turkey back into the oven and closed the door. It was the first time her daughter had spoken to her all day. “I hope so. Dennis is driving out to get him.”

“Dennis? Don't tell me you invited
him.
”

Sarah ignored that. “Your uncle Jeb will be here if Dennis has anything to say about it. He told me he's not taking no for an answer.”

“I don't want Dennis here.” Calla marched into the living room, then slouched down in the overstuffed chair and crossed her arms rebelliously.

“Calla, please! It's Christmas.”

Her daughter stubbornly refused to look at her. “If it wasn't for you, I'd be with my father right now.”