Dakota Born Dakota Series ~ Book One MIRA Paperback   March 28, 2000 ISBN 1-55166-576-X $6.99 U.S. / $8.50 CAN

Description

The place: Buffalo Valley, North Dakota.  Like so many small towns, it’s dying.  Stores are boarded up, sidewalks cracked, houses wanting a coat of paint.  But despite it all, there’s a spirit of hope here, of defiance.  The few people still left in Buffalo Valley are fighting for the life of their town.

She spent time here during childhood vacations because her father’s family had settled in Buffalo Valley years ago and her grandmother lived there until her death.   Now Lindsay returns to see the family house again, to explore family roots — and to reevaluate the direction of her own life.

Buffalo Valley needs her, and she needs to be there.  When the town advertises for a teacher, she applies; she’s qualified, willing — and the only applicant!

Excerpt

Ten-year-old Lindsay Snyder woke rigid with fear.  For a moment, she didn’t know where she was.  The room was as dark as coal and hot, terribly hot.  Then she realized she wasn’t home in Savannah where the air conditioner cooled the worst of the summer heat.  She tried not to be afraid, but she was.

The ghost stories she’d heard at camp that summer returned to haunt her.  A sudden chill raced down her spine as she recalled the tale of Crazy Man Charlie who was said to tear out people’s eyes . . . and then murder them.  Somehow Crazy Man Charlie had found her. Everyone else was dead.  Everyone but her.  The dream remained vague, and she tried to remember the details and couldn’t.

Daring to move, she slowly sat up in the darkness, prepared to confront whatever danger awaited her.  As she did, she remembered she was at her grandparents’ house with her parents and two sisters.   They’d arrived that evening after driving for what seemed like days and days to North Dakota.

Her eyes had begun to adjust to the night, and Lindsay climbed out of the makeshift bed in her grandma’s sewing room.  She tiptoed past her two sleeping sisters and down the hallway to the kitchen for a glass of water.

A sound came from the living room and she froze at the thought of meeting Crazy Man Charlie face-to-face.  Holding her breath, she flattened herself against the refrigerator door.

Then Lindsay saw her Grandma Gina, silhouetted in the moonlight that streamed through the big window.  The heavy curtains were pulled open and her grandma stood by the brick fireplace, head bent.  Lindsay would have rushed to her for a hug and told her all about the crazy man and how scared she’d been, but she didn’t know her Grandma Gina as well as she did her Grandma Dorothy.  So she stayed in the kitchen, waiting for her grandmother to notice her.

Except her grandma hadn’t heard Lindsay and didn’t know she was there.  Lindsay could see that her grandmother had something in her hand, but she couldn’t tell what it was.  Grandma Gina moved closer to the fireplace, but it wasn’t light enough for Lindsay to see what she was doing.

Lindsay’s eyes widened as her grandmother leaned forward and touched the fireplace. A sort of scraping sound followed and a brick slid out.  It was a hiding place!  A secret hiding place. 

Fascinated, Lindsay watched as her grandmother slipped whatever she held in her hand inside the opening.  The brick made the same sound as it went back into place.

“Grandma?”

  “Good heavens, child! You frightened me.”

“What are you doing up?”

  “I had a dream about Crazy Man Charlie.”

  She touched the fireplace, trying to figure out which brick had moved.  “What did you hide in here, Grandma?”

  “It was . . . just a trick of the moonlight.”

saw.”

  “The stories frightened you.”

  “Why would I be crying?”

  Lindsay raised her hand to her grandmother’s cheek and brushed her fingertips tentatively against the soft skin.

Her grandmother tried to smile, but her lower lip quivered.

“Are you sad?” Lindsay asked.

“A little,” she whispered, and hugged Lindsay close, so close she could feel the beating of her grandma’s heart.

“I’ll draw you a picture, and then you won’t be sad anymore.”

  Now let me take you back to bed.”

Her grandma had let the tap run and the water was nice and cold.  Lindsay gulped it down, then put the glass on the counter.  “What did you hide in the fireplace?” she asked again.   She didn’t understand why Grandma Gina was pretending like this.

Her grandmother gently stroked the hair from her face.  “You didn’t see anything.”

  Walking over to the fireplace, Lindsay tried to find the spot her grandmother had touched.  She pushed and prodded at various bricks, but nothing moved.

Her grandmother joined her.  “Lindsay, look at me.”

Her grandmother crouched down again.  The tears were back in her eyes and she hugged Lindsay tightly.  “What you saw is our secret, all right?”

“But I want you to forget all about it.”

Her grandmother held Lindsay’s face in both hands and stared at her intently.  “Promise me you’ll never tell anyone what you saw.”

  She kissed Lindsay’s cheek.  “Now let me tuck you back into bed.”

CHAPTER ONE

 

“We’re doomed,” Jacob Hansen said in sepulchral tones.   He marched into the room, shaking his grizzled head.

“You might as well board up the entire town right now.”  Marta Hansen followed her husband into the dining room at Buffalo Bob’s 3 of a Kind.  With the energy that so often accompanies righteousness, she plunked herself down at the table with the other members of the Buffalo Valley town council.

Joshua McKenna figured this kind of pessimism pretty much ensured that they wouldn’t accomplish anything.  Not that he blamed the couple.  For nearly twenty years the Hansens, along with everyone else in Buffalo Valley, had watched the once-thriving farm community deteriorate, until now the town was barely holding on.  The theater had closed first, and then the beauty shop and the florist and the hardware store . . .  It hurt most when the catalog store pulled up stakes — that had been six years ago — and then the Morningside Cafe, the one decent restaurant in town, had closed for good.

Even now, Joshua missed Missy’s cooking.  She’d baked biscuits that were so light and fluffy they practically floated into your mouth.  Joshua got hungry just thinking about those biscuits. He could make an entire meal out of them.

Businesses survived as long as they could until they were driven to financial ruin and were forced to close up shop.  Families drifted away, farmland changed ownership, the bigger farms buying up the smaller ones.  Large or small, everyone struggled these days with low agricultural prices.  He had to hand it to the farmers, though.  They were smart, and getting smarter all the time.  Over the years, agricultural research and hardier strains had made it possible to urge a larger yield out of the land.  Where an acre would once produce a hundred bushels, it was now possible to harvest almost twice that.  Somehow, a lot of the farmers had managed to keep going — because they believed in their heritage and because they trusted in the future, hoping for a fair price for their produce.  Since they stayed, a few of the businesses in town clung on, too.

Joshua’s was one of them, although he’d certainly been struggling for the last while.  He sold used goods and antiques, and did repairs; in that area, at least, business was steady. It was his gift, he supposed, to be able to fix things.  With money tight, people did everything they could to avoid buying something new.   He just wished his talent extended to fixing lives and rearranging circumstances. If it had, he’d start with his own family.  Heaven knew his son needed help.  His daughter and granddaughter, too.  He didn’t like to think about the changes in their lives during the past few years, and he hated the helpless feeling that came over him whenever he did.

His wife Marge had always dealt with the children, but she’d been gone over ten years now.  He often wondered if she’d recognize Buffalo Valley these days and wished he had her wisdom in dealing with its problems.  She would’ve been shocked to learn he’d been elected president of the town council.  A position he hadn’t sought, but one he’s assumed by default when Bill Wilson had to close his gas station and move to Fargo.

“We’re doomed this time.”  Marta repeated, daring anyone to argue with her.

“This town’s survived all these years.  We’ll hold on now,”  Hassie Knight, who owned Knight’s Pharmacy, said emphatically.

Hassie was a born optimist and the one person in town who was sure to see even this situation in a positive light.  If anyone could come up with a solution, it’d be Hassie, God bless her.

Like him, Hassie had experienced her share of grief.  She’d buried her son, who’d been killed in Vietnam nearly thirty years ago, and not long afterward, had lost her husband.  Her daughter lived in Hawaii, and Joshua knew Valerie would like nothing better than to have her mother retire nearby, in Waikiki.  Thankfully, Hassie had resisted Valerie’s efforts.  The old woman was long past the age of retirement, but she did much more than fill prescriptions.  Hassie was the closet thing the community had to a doctor, and folks from miles around came to her for medical advice.  Yes, Hassie Knight was a popular woman, all right.  It didn’t hurt any that she served the best sodas he’d ever tasted.  The old-fashioned kind from the fountain in the corner of her store.  Chocolate sodas and good advice — those were her specialties.

“We’ve hung on for so many years, we’re already dead and don’t even have the sense to know it,” Marta said caustically as she crossed her arms over her hefty bosom.

“Will you stop!” Joshua pounded the gavel on the tabletop with so much force, the ice in the water glasses danced.  He sat back down and motioned to Hassie.  “Would you take roll call?”

“Roll call?  Now that’s gonna be useful,” Marta Hansen muttered.  “That’s like what’s-his-name, that emperor, fiddling while Rome burned.”

  Must’ve been on Jeopardy last night, Joshua thought.

“Nero.  The emperor was Nero,” he couldn’t resist adding.  Still, he hated to admit it, but Marta was right.  Roll call was a waste of time; all they had to do was look around the table to know who was present and who wasn’t. Hassie, the Hansens, Dennis Urlacher and him.  Absent: Gage Sinclair and Heath Quantrill.  Joshua stopped Hassie before she had a chance to start.

“Fine, we’ll dispense with the usual formalities and get on with the meeting.”

someone in this town is willing to listen to reason,” Marta said, glaring across the table at Hassie.

It was only natural that the town pessimist and the town optimist would be in constant opposition.  “You and Jacob have as much to gain or lose as the rest of us,” Hassie snapped.  “A positive mental attitude would help.”

  “Positive that Buffalo Valley is as dead as Eloise Patten.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said — which is really saying something.” Hassie’s face reddened, and Joshua could see she was having difficulty restraining her temper.  The truth was, the Hansens exasperated him, too.  How they’d managed to run the grocery during these hard times when they had such a negative outlook toward life was beyond him.  Thank God their store had survived.  Joshua didn’t know what would happen if they ever decided to leave Buffalo Valley.

“All right, all right.”  Joshua wiped his brow with a stained white handkerchief.  “We’ll move on to new business.”

“We all know why we’re here,” Jacob said.  “The school needs a teacher.”

Marta and Jacob glanced at each other and seemed to understand that if they raised a fuss, Hassie would make a point of asking Marta to leave, since she wasn’t officially a member of the town council.  Joshua suspected the only reason she attended the meetings was to advise Jacob on how to vote.

“We’d welcome your help,” Joshua assured Bob.

Without a word Dennis Urlacher, who owned the Cenex Gas Station, shoved his chair aside to make room for Buffalo Bob.  The ex-biker had settled in the town a couple of years earlier after winning the bar, grill and small hotel in a poker game.

Joshua looked down at his notes.  “As you all know, Eloise Patten is gone.”

  “She’s dead!”

  Joshua had taken about all he could from the other woman.  “The point is we don’t have a teacher.”

“No one’s going to want to teach in a town that’s dying,” Jacob grumbled, shaking his head.  “Besides, I never did think much of dividing up the schools.  Bussing our grade-schoolers over to Bellmont and then having them send their high-schoolers to us was a piss-poor idea, if you ask me.”

  “It won’t do any good to rehash what’s already been decided and acted upon.  Bussing the children has worked for the last four years, and would continue to do so if Eloise hadn’t passed on the way she did.”



“Well, thank God she didn’t,” Joshua said.  Eloise Patten had been a godsend to this community, and if no one else said it, he would.  The deceased schoolteacher had been the one to suggest splitting up the elementary and high school students between the two towns.  The Hansens’ attitude was typical of the thinking that was detrimental to such progressive ideas.   The small farming communities, or what was left of them, needed to rely on each other.  It was either that or lose everything.  If Buffalo Valley was going to survive when so many towns on the prairie hadn’t, they had to learn to work together.

“We’ve got to find us a new teacher, is all.”  Dennis could be counted on to cut to the chase.  To state the basic, unadorned facts.  He owned and operated the only gas station left in town and wasn’t much of a talker.  When he did speak, it was generally worth listening.

Joshua knew that his daughter, Sarah, and Dennis had some kind of romance going between them, despite the decided efforts of his daughter to keep it a secret.   Joshua didn’t understand why she felt it so all-fired important nobody know about this relationship.  After her disastrous marriage, Joshua would’ve welcomed Dennis into the family.  He suspected that Sarah’s reluctance to marry Dennis had to do with her daughter, Calla, who was fourteen.  A difficult age . . .

“We could include living quarters, couldn’t we?”  Buffalo Bob suggested.

It went without saying that the school’s closing would likely ring a death knell not only for Buffalo Valley but for Bellmont, too.

“Good idea.” Joshua pointed the gavel at the hotel owner.  “There’s two or three empty houses close to the school.”

  “They’re full of mice and God knows what else.”

“I’ll throw in a free dinner every Friday night,” Buffalo Bob volunteered.

“In case no one’s noticed, there’s a teacher shortage in this state.”  This came from Jacob, and as if on cue, Marta nodded.

“We could always advertise,” Hassie said tentatively.       

“Advertise?  We don’t have that kind of money,” Marta said sharply.

“If we don’t advertise, what exactly do you suggest?” Joshua asked.

Jacob and Marta looked at each other.  Jacob got heavily to his feet and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the table.  “I think it’s time we all admitted the truth.  Buffalo Valley is doomed.”  Marta nodded, a satisfied expression on her face.

His announcement was met with an immediate outburst from both Hassie and Buffalo Bob.

“Just one minute!”  Buffalo Bob shouted.

“I raised two children in this town,” Hassie cried, “and buried one.  I’m not going to let Buffalo Valley die if it’s the last thing I do.  Any one of you who —”

Joshua slammed the gavel down.  “No one said anything about giving up.”

“We’ll find a teacher.”  Joshua refused to let the Hansens’ pessimism influence the meeting any longer.

“Look around you,” Jacob Hansen said, gesturing at the greasy window that faced the main street.

Joshua didn’t need to look; he confronted the evidence every day when he opened his shop.  The boarded-up businesses.  The cracked sidewalks, with weeds sprouting up through the cracks.  The streets were filled with litter, and whatever community pride there’d once been had long since died.

“We aren’t going to let the school close,” Joshua stated emphatically.

A deep sense of relief showed on Hassie’s face.  Joshua McKenna had lived his entire life in this place and he’d do whatever he could to save it.  Come hell or high water, they’d find a teacher before school started up again at the end of August.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jacob Hansen said just loudly enough for them all to hear.

“Well, then — prepare to believe,” Joshua said grandly.

There was more life in Buffalo Valley than either of the Hansens suspected, and Joshua was going to prove it.

* * *

Lindsay Snyder felt the anger churning in her stomach, anger at her own foolishness as much as anything.  With her dogs sound asleep at her feet, she sat at her kitchen table and wrote in the pages of her journal.   Whenever she was upset, she described her feelings; it helped her clarify them, helped her analyze what had happened and why.  This time, though, she knew the answers, and the only person she had to blame was herself.

When she finished, she set the leather-bound book aside and stared sightlessly out her apartment window.  But it wasn’t the landscape she saw; it was her future.

Monte was never going to marry her.

She should have recognized it two years ago, and hadn’t.  She realized it was because she so desperately wanted to be his wife, wanted to have a family with him.  She loved him, and wasn’t marriage supposed to be the natural outcome of loving a man?  She allowed herself to see what she’d hoped to see.   She’d allowed herself to believe she could convince him.

Monte hadn’t lied to her, hadn’t misled her.  From the beginning, he’d told her he wasn’t interested in marriage.  He loved her, he said, but his divorce several years earlier had devastated him and he’d decided not to repeat the experience.  He’d never indicated in any way that he might change his mind.  Lindsay knew there was only one person to blame for her unhappiness — and it wasn’t Monte.

Soon — maybe six months — after their relationship had begun, she’d left him because he’d been adamant on the subject of marriage.  He’d persuaded her to come back and she had, foolishly believing that eventually he’d change his mind and see things the way she did.

It hadn’t happened.

The phone rang and Lindsay glanced at the caller ID, relieved and at the same time depressed to see that it wasn’t his number.

“Hello,” she mumbled into the phone.

“It’s Maddy.”

  However, I know that can’t be the case, ‘cause I’m your best friend.”

  “Nothing’s wrong.  Let me amend that.   Nothing’s wrong that hasn’t been wrong for the past two years.”

  What happened?”

  That much was true.  “Monte and I went out to dinner last night and took a romantic ride in a horse-drawn buggy around Chippewa Square.  The magnolias were blooming and Maddy . . . it was perfect.  Until —”

  “Until I made the mistake of mentioning the future.  The way he reacted, you’d think that was a dirty word.   The next thing I knew, he was angry with me and we were arguing.  And then I saw what I should have recognized all along — Monte is never going to marry me.”

  “Are you breaking it off?”

  It’s over, Maddy.”

  Nothing he says is going to convince me to change my mind.  I refuse to do this to myself any longer.”

“He told you from the very beginning that he wasn’t going to get married again.”

  I know that’s what he wants.”

  Thank God she hadn’t gone through with it.  His feelings wouldn’t have changed — and her own anguish would’ve been that much worse.

“So you broke it off for good?”

  It’s time I opened my eyes and faced reality.  I refuse to put my life on hold any longer.”

  Then Maddy sobered.   “I know it’s hard, but . . .”

  It’d all sounded so simple back then, and here they were both nearly thirty and not a husband in sight.

“Remember when we were teenagers?”  Lindsay couldn’t keep from thinking about all those silly schoolgirl dreams.

Maddy snorted inelegantly.  “We were what you’d call romantic idiots.”

  It wasn’t as though either of them thought marriage was essential to a woman’s existence.  But they both craved the closeness of a good marriage and the joys of having children.

“One day my prince will come.”  Maddy’s dreamy voice sang its way through the telephone line.  “And so will yours . . .”

  Now, seven years later, Lindsay had given up counting the number of weddings in which she and Maddy had served as bridesmaids.  Ten, possibly more, so many that it had become a joke between them.  Periodically Maddy would suggest a joint yard sale just to get rid of all the pastel satin dresses.  Or a ritual burning.   Maybe their luck would finally change, she’d say with a laugh.

Then, a little more than two years ago, Lindsay’s luck did change.   Monte Turner had come to work as a salesman for her uncle.  The minute they were introduced, Lindsay had fallen for him.  Within a month she’d broken off her relationship with Chuck Endicott, after a fairly casual involvement.  She hadn’t dated anyone but Monte since.

She’d loved Monte, still did, but a two-year relationship had proved that he didn’t want the same things out of life as she did.  He wasn’t interested in children, and the word commitment sent him running for cover.  Lindsay had spent her entire life dreaming of both.

“Listen,” Maddy said excitedly.  “My boss insisted I take two weeks off.  She’s afraid I’m going to burn out if I don’t get away.  So, as of next Friday, I’m on vacation.”

  Lindsay couldn’t help being envious.

“Come with me,” Maddy urged.  “You need to escape as much as I do.”

“If you’re serious about breaking it off with Monte, then make it quick and clean. Dragging it out isn’t going to do either of you any good.”

  “Where do you want to go? Europe?”  Two weeks in Paris sounded heavenly.

“I can’t afford that,” Maddy said.  Social workers were notoriously underpaid.

“What about a couple of weeks on St. Simons Island?” As one of the Golden Isles off the Georgia coast, St. Simons was a prime resort location.

“Paris is cheaper.”

  “Okay, where do you suggest?”

  There’s so many places in this country I’ve never seen.”

  Away was away, wherever they ventured.  Their destination mattered little to her.  Maddy had recently bought a new car and they could share expenses.

“I’ve always wanted to see Yellowstone Park,” Maddy said.

“It’s fabulous,” Lindsay told her.

“You’ve been?”

  You know my dad’s from North Dakota — he was born and raised there.  We drove out to see the old homestead a couple of times while I was growing up.  Yellowstone Park isn’t that far — at least I don’t think it is.  I must have been about ten the last time we went.”

  Lindsay’s parents had moved her grandfather from Buffalo Valley to a retirement center in Savannah, where he’d remained until his death.  They’d had only a few years together, but Lindsay had treasured that time with her grandfather.  Because North Dakota was so far removed from Georgia and their visits infrequent, Lindsay had barely known her Grandma and Grandpa Snyder.

At first her grandfather had painfully missed the Red River Valley.   He’d spoken endlessly of his life there.  Lindsay remembered that he’d called the land blessed, but then said living in North Dakota was like wrestling with an angel.  You had to fight it before you found the blessing.  He described seeing double rainbows after a fierce rainfall, and wild winter snowstorms that turned the sky as gray as gunmetal.  He’d talked about the incredible sunsets, the heavens glowing orange and pink and red as far as the eye could see.

“I’d like to stop in Buffalo Valley,” Lindsay said.

“Buffalo Valley?”

  It’s where my dad was raised.”

“My grandparents’ house is still there.  It’s never sold.”

  “My grandparents sold the farm back in the early seventies, and moved into town.”  Lindsay wasn’t sure why their house had stayed on the market.  “From what I understand, the place has been listed with a real estate company all this time.”  There had been talk of an estate sale, but Lindsay didn’t know what had come of it.

“Then it’s probably a good idea if we check it out,” Maddy said.

Lindsay knew her uncle wouldn’t mind her taking a vacation, and her family would be pleased when she told them her plans.  Despite herself, she wondered what Monte would think.

She didn’t have long to wait.  

After four days during which they’d pretended to ignore each other, Monte showed up at her office.  Lindsay had known that eventually he would, and she’d been dreading the conversation all week.   Again her dread was mixed with an odd sense of longing.

“You’re going where?” Monte demanded, obviously annoyed that he’d heard of her plans from someone else.

By now Lindsay was nearly starved for the sight of him and focused her attention on a roguish curl of blondish brown hair that fell across his forehead.

“On vacation,” she told him as she moved about the compact room.  It would be impossible to sit at her desk and not give herself away.  She wanted him to react to her news, and at the same time recognized that she shouldn’t.

He closed the door and leaned against it.  “Isn’t this a little extreme?”

  She glanced over her shoulder as she slid a file into the four-drawer cabinet.

“I heard you and Maddy are driving across the country.  Two women alone — it’s not safe, Lindsay.  If you’re angry with me, fine.  Be angry, but we both know you’ll get over it soon enough.   I already am.  We had an argument.  We’ve had them in the past and probably will again.  Let’s put it behind us and move on.  But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Lindsay . . .”

  I meant what I said.”

  “Why don’t you wait till I can take some time off and I’ll go with you?  This vacation with Maddy could be dangerous.”

  Thank you for your concern.”

  Lindsay continued filing.

“I really am sorry about Friday night.”  His voice was gentle.  “We were both upset.”

“You know how I feel about you.”

  She would never have stayed with him this long otherwise.   Seeing him now, so handsome, his expression so caring, she found it hard to think of her life without him.  “Marry me, Monte,” she pleaded before she could stop herself.

His eyes filled with regret.

As soon as she’d said the words, she wanted to grab them back.  She’d done it again, tried to change a situation that couldn’t be changed.  Sorrow washed over her, and she shook her head hopelessly.

“You’re going without me?”

  That was the only way she could think clearly.  The only way she could teach her heart to forget him.

“When are you leaving?” he asked in a resigned voice.

“Saturday morning.”

  “Two weeks?”

“Will you phone me?  At least give me that much.  Just a quick call so I’ll know you’re all right — or else I’ll spend the entire time worrying.”

  “Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”  She couldn’t.  Talking to him would be too painful, too risky.

“I’ll miss you,” Monte said quietly.  He hesitated before he turned and walked out the door.