North Dakota Weddings (45 page)

“Fargo? The city? Get serious, Mom.” Ah. Stay a farm girl. Marry the boy next door. Why couldn’t she eagerly oblige her parents by fulfilling those simple expectations? Be happy with an otherwise uneventful life, though it was a hard life. Her father worked himself to the marrow, as did her mother. This previous year had been bad for their wheat—too much rain.

Rayne zipped up the soft leather pocket holding her sketches and laptop and tugged the briefcase flap over, effectively closing it. She looked around her room. Two pieces from her Samsonite luggage sat on the floor. Everything was tidy, just as her mother had required of her when she was growing up.

“That should do it.” Rayne tugged her briefcase strap over her shoulder and lifted a suitcase with each hand.

“Oh no you don’t. Your father can get those if you insist on leaving.” Rayne’s mother huffed. “I don’t see why you have to go just yet. Aunt Margaret will be here this afternoon. I’m sure she made the red velvet cake you like so much. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Rayne descended the staircase, still carrying her luggage, her mother following close behind. Guilt heaped on more guilt. That’s what her mother did. “I’ve been here two weeks already, and I should have driven back yesterday.”

“But yesterday was New Year’s Eve, and you can’t drive on New Year’s Day.”

By the time Rayne reached the bottom of the stairs, her shoulder had begun to ache along with her nerves. She dropped the luggage and slipped the briefcase from her arm, setting it on the floor. Voices resounded from the kitchen.

“…if this weather keeps up.”

“Yah betcha,” her father replied. His voice, bold and strong, was always a comfort to Rayne.

“Oh, that must be Paul.” Rayne’s mother hurried past and headed to the small country kitchen of the farmhouse.

The familiar voice conversing with her father sent dread through Rayne. Maybe North Dakotan farmers were tenacious by nature, their perseverance having evolved over decades in order to survive. That’s why her parents continued to plant seeds in her, hoping for her return. That’s why Paul Frasier continued to plant seeds in her, hoping she’d agree to marry him.

She strolled into the kitchen, expecting to hear a discussion about how cold it was outside and what the weather would do over the next several days. In the Flemming home, the conversation never veered much from the weather. The weather could make or break farmers.

Rayne smiled at her father, who was piling bacon high on a platter already filled with eggs. “You know what they say—the cold keeps out the riff-raff.”

Paul’s eyes brightened when he saw her. “Rayne, I didn’t realize you were still here.”

What? You didn’t see my car parked outside?
Rayne smiled, playing along. “Yep, still here for five more minutes.”

His smile dimmed. “You’re heading back to Fargo to work at the water company?”

Paul knew perfectly well. It wasn’t like him to make jabs. “It’s called FountainTech, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.” Paul removed his jacket then took the cup of coffee her mother offered. The man was tall and handsome, with strong, rugged Norwegian ancestry. He owned and ran a successful farm. Why hadn’t she been able to bring herself to say yes when he’d finally proposed?

Her father set the platter on the table as he peered at her through sad, disapproving eyes. He’d never been impressed with her career. She wasn’t sure he even understood what she did exactly. Something inside her seemed to crack like the smallest of leaks in a water main—at one time she had held her father’s appreciative gaze. She longed to see that again. She longed to please him, but at what cost? Giving up her dream? Suddenly, her throat constricted.

Uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen.

“Paul, care to join us for breakfast?” her mother asked to be polite, though to Rayne’s ears it sounded more like an attempt to change the subject and keep the peace.

“No, thank you, Carol. I’ve already eaten. Just wanted to stop by to see how you were doing.”

“All right then.” Her mother busied herself making toast.

Paul and her father took seats at the small table and started up their conversation again while her father ate. It seemed they had nothing else to say to the traitor. When she’d graduated with an art degree, they hadn’t considered it a real education. Why would she expect them to consider her work as a water feature designer to be a real job? Part of her wished she didn’t care what her family members thought of her chosen career because she loved it so much. Why couldn’t they love it, too, instead of withholding their approval?

She loved designing fountains, choreographing the water into art that was emotionally dramatic. Right now she couldn’t wait to get back to her job.

Rayne drew in a breath to soften the tension in her neck and breathed in the aroma of breakfast, mingled with the mustiness of a farmhouse built in 1900.

“I need to head back to Fargo, so I’ll say my good-byes now,” she said, interrupting their conversation.

Holding a plate of toast, her mother froze midstride as though surprised to hear the news. She set the plate on the table and wiped her hands against her apron, a resigned look on her face. “We’ll help you out, Rayne. Won’t we, Gary?”

Rayne’s father nodded. “I’ll get your bags.”

Finally, Rayne stood next to her car—a white Volkswagen Passat she’d bought when she landed her job—and hugged her mother and father. Paul wished her well. She looked at the small house behind them, laced with the remnants of yesterday’s snow. She committed to memory today’s characteristics of the house where she grew up. She’d felt loved, safe, and secure. That’s what had made these last few years so difficult.

Once her parents knew of her promotion and saw her success, they’d know she had made the right decision. But doubt—maybe all the seeds planted into the soil of her heart over the last two weeks—had wreaked havoc on her confidence.

Have I made the right decision?

Though she’d sought an answer from God, He’d been silent on the matter.

Jack Kostner pressed his chest to his leg, feeling the stretch in his hamstring. Wouldn’t do to injure himself on his first day of work.

Alone on the racquetball court, he stretched tall. Drawing in a breath, he noted the air was devoid of that stale sock and locker room odor—something he could expect to experience once the health club filled with bodies again.

But not at 5:00 a.m.

Jack began slamming the ball—he didn’t need a partner to get his practice in. Considering he was new to Fargo and the health club, he’d cut himself some slack. A partner would turn up soon enough, though sometimes he wasn’t sure if he wanted one.

Someone pounded on the Plexiglas wall behind him. Breathing hard, Jack caught the ball and glanced at the lanky man dressed in workout shorts and looking eager. Jack could guess at his reason for disturbing him.

The man opened the door and leaned in. “You expecting someone? Or could you use a challenge?”

Jack laughed. Nobody ever beat him. This guy was in for it. “Sure. But I’ve only got forty-five minutes to play.” After that he’d shower and head to work—the first day on his new job. He’d spent last night setting up his office so he could get down to business today. No slacking for him.

The man raised his eyebrows. “More like fifteen for me.”

“That’ll do.” Without another word, Jack slammed a fast serve, catching the man off guard.

They soon fell into the rhythm of the game, the ball bouncing around the walls. Jack loved the sound of it and the smell of the rubbery sphere as it darted around the cube encasing them.

After half an hour, Jack paused and pressed his hands against his thighs, breathing hard. The guy had beaten him three games already.

“I thought you said you only had fifteen minutes,” Jack managed.

His opponent’s eyes widened. “Yep. I’d better run.” He rushed to the door then turned back to Jack. “Name’s Carl.”

Still gasping for breath, Jack nodded. “Jack.”

Carl smiled and exited the court. Jack knew he’d see the man again. He’d have another chance to play and beat him next time. Chagrined, he headed for the shower.

He wondered at his sour start to the day. Usually nobody beat Jack Kostner. At racquetball or otherwise. Still, playing with someone better was a sharpening of the iron, as the saying went. Even though he hated losing, he enjoyed being challenged and, yes, being honed. He wondered if he would find anyone at FountainTech to challenge him, sharpen his ideas and creations. If it would make him better, he’d welcome the competition.

Once an Imagineer—imagination engineer—at Disney, Jack had no plans to be bested. Only a fool ever quit growing and learning. Jack shoved through the door to the showers. Yep. The only thing he’d ever been a quitter at was love. But that wasn’t his fault. His fiancé had skipped out on him two days before their wedding last year.

Two days!

And that’s why he found himself in North Dakota, being beaten at racquetball at five in the morning.

After his stint in the special effects department at Disney, his experience and education in engineering and product design had come in handy at Elemental Innovations, Inc., that is, until he’d met and fallen in love with Kiera Stemmons.

And she was still working at Elemental in sunny California while he was shivering in the cold up north. She’d almost destroyed him. He’d had nothing left. Jack showered and dressed, furious with himself for letting his mind go there. Fargo was a new start for him, empty of all reminders of that woman.

But hadn’t God seen his pain?

Stop!

Fuming, he tugged on his socks.
Get a grip, man
.

Okay, Jack was back. At twenty-seven he’d learned his lessons and was ready to throw all of his energy into this company’s water fountain designs.

Once he stepped through the exit doors of the health club and onto the snow-lined pavement, the cold slammed him. He wondered if working out this early and then hitting the frigid air was good for a person—could it constrict his blood vessels and give him a heart attack like his grandfather?

With that thought, his mind drifted to his parents and their tragic death. He stiffened and shoveled the thoughts away like so much snow.

Heading to his car, Jack prodded himself to focus on FountainTech, get on with his new life. Why wouldn’t the brooding thoughts leave him alone? Maybe it was the lack of sunshine. He was accustomed to jogging outside in the sunshine every morning. Couldn’t the cloudy darkness of winter give a person some sort of depression?

Enough. He wouldn’t let buried memories of Kiera or his parents bring him down. Jack started his jet black Pontiac Solstice and, despite the snow and sludge, spun from the parking lot.

H
old that door!” Rayne called, catching Heidi’s eyes.

Heidi held the elevator door for her with a smile, while others appeared annoyed. Rayne gasped for breath when she stepped into the elevator. She hated being late. Her workday started at eight, and it was five till now. Rayne liked to be at work an hour early to organize her thoughts.

Surrounded by a few of her coworkers, as well as others she didn’t know, Rayne felt like a sardine in the elevator.

“How were your holidays, Rayne?” Heidi asked.

Rayne felt drab and mousy next to Heidi, who had green eyes and beautiful, long blond hair.
Gorgeous
. She made Rayne conscious of her dull brown, shoulder-length cut. Maybe she was like her mother after all; she had never considered doing anything to her hair to make it vibrant.

“Good, but I was ready to be home,” she replied. The word
home
sounded strange on her tongue when using it to describe her apartment in Fargo.

Kathy, a tall, lanky girl from accounting, laughed as though she understood, also having left Fargo to see family. Did everyone go through the frustration of failing their families, as Rayne did? Or did others live up to the expectations placed on them?

“My parents came to see me.” Heidi rubbed her nose. “Can’t have Christmas without the grandkids.”

For a moment, an image of holding a baby flashed in Rayne’s mind. If she’d said yes to Paul and married him months ago, might she be pregnant by now? Of course, as a farmer’s wife, a brood of children was expected, and right away. She chuckled inside but sobered as she was reminded once again of why her parents wanted her to marry Paul. As an only child, she was their only hope for grandchildren. A marriage to Paul would guarantee the grandbabies stayed close. Just another reason for her parents to hold on to her so tightly.

The elevator doors finally swooshed open, and the FountainTech employees poured out into a small entrance hall. To the left were glass doors, the main entrance to FountainTech. A door on the right of the hall allowed employees through the back entrance, a quicker path to their offices on that side. Kathy headed right, punching the entry code into the keypad to open the back door.

Rayne, Heidi, and two others strolled through the reception area, still wearing their coats, hats, and gloves. Rayne began shedding her winter gear.