Dakota skies, p.15
Dakota Skies, page 15
I threw this letter away just like I did the other two, and you know what? It’s easier every time. I wish I could tell you I tossed it without reading it first, but my curiosity got the better of me. Maybe the next one.
Buffalo Bob sends his greetings, by the way. He’s been morose all week because of Merrily—his one and only Buffalo Gal. She left, apparently for no reason. From what Hassie told me, Merrily does this once in a while. No one knows why or where she goes. What I suspect is that she has a whole other life she escapes to when she gets bored or restless here. Which is sort of like me at the moment, I guess, only in reverse.
I’ve lived my entire life in Savannah, and although I’ve only been in North Dakota a couple of months, it feels as much like home as the South. Don’t misunderstand me, I miss everyone. Some days more than others. And everything isn’t exactly smooth sailing, either. Some people, like Hassie and Leta Betts, are wonderful and helpful, and then others like Marta Hansen seem to be waiting for me to pack my bags and disappear the way Merrily did. Buffalo Bob told me he’s been in town a couple of years now and some folks still treat him like an upstart.
Yes, I will be home for Thanksgiving. We can shop till we drop. Just remember I’m not as flush as I used to be, although the cost of living here is much cheaper than I realized. A bonus, to be sure.
Hassie has proven to be a dear friend and mentor. If I’m not busy with the kids after school, I drop by the pharmacy and visit with her. We have dinner together two or three nights a week. She’s witty and insightful, and the only one who knows about Monte. Gage guessed why I took the job, but he doesn’t know the details.
Did I mention I started a drama club? Remember Mr. Olsen when we were in high school and how much fun we had doing Our Town, The Crucible and The Music Man? I’m not ready to try one of the classics—or, heaven forbid, a musical—but I’ve had some thoughts about what we might do. Tell you later. My first problem was finding someplace to hold the play. The answer seemed obvious. Remember that closed-down theater on Main Street? I asked Joshua McKenna about it—he’s the president of the town council—and he told me it actually belongs to a family in Devils Lake. I was able to reach the son of the owner about using it, and he roped me into attending some Halloween party with him in exchange. I agreed, but I don’t like it. Laugh if you must, but I have a date with a man named Ambrose.
Oh, yes, you asked about Rachel Fischer’s pizza. Who’d believe the best pizza in the world is baked right here in Buffalo Valley? I asked if she’d sell me a jar of her pizza sauce to take home at Thanksgiving so you can taste it for yourself. Expect to be amazed. It’s that good, and you know what a pizza connoisseur I am. I’m getting to know Rachel. It feels good to have another woman close to my own age to talk to. I treasure Hassie, but…
Lindsay’s letter-writing was interrupted by a rapid pounding on her front door. Mutt and Jeff beat her there, barking madly. She hurried to open it, thinking there might be some kind of emergency. Gage Sinclair stood on her porch looking furious about something.
“Gage.” She held the door for him and gestured him inside. He marched in, glancing around as if he suspected she had company.
“What’s wrong?”
He frowned at her. “I hear you’re dating Ambrose Kohn.”
“Oh, that. You’d better let me explain.” It hadn’t occurred to her that Gage might be offended by her agreeing to attend the party with Ambrose. Now, if he’d give her a chance to tell him—
“I’m not here to listen to your reasons. They’re fairly obvious.”
“Oh?” Lindsay found that comment curious.
“He’s got a whole lot more land than I do. Money’s what makes the world go round, isn’t it?”
That was downright insulting. “You’re being ridiculous. Now sit down and—”
“I feel like standing.”
“Fine, stand then,” she said, doing her best to maintain her own composure. She crossed her arms and waited for him to continue.
“You refuse to go out with me—”
“You refuse to listen to—”
“Are you mocking me?” he barked.
“You’re behaving like a jealous lover.”
“Lover?” He laughed sarcastically. “I can’t even get you to have a beer with me. Apparently I didn’t pass your scrutiny in that department. Oh, I’m worthy enough to work three nights in a row getting your fence repaired. I’m worthy enough to talk to your class for an hour on a Friday afternoon. I’m—”
“Gage…” If he’d only let her explain! “It isn’t like that,” she began.
“The hell it isn’t.”
Lindsay slapped her hands against her sides. “You’re the most irrational man I’ve ever known!”
“Me?” he shouted. “I don’t know where I stand with you half the time. You practically threw yourself at me—”
“Threw myself at you?” The man was living in a dream world!
“What else am I to think when you kissed me like that?”
Now she was fuming. “You’re the one who kissed me!” she reminded him, so angry she could barely speak.
“And you loved it.”
“I… I… You are jealous.”
His head came up. “The hell I am. What I am, in case you haven’t noticed, is mad.”
“You don’t have a right to feel anything when it comes to me.”
“Be that as it may,” he said, his gaze narrowed. “I can’t help feeling something for you.”
She stood there openmouthed, with no idea how to respond to his confession.
“I thought you were someone special,” he said, his voice low and vibrating with emotion. “Now I can see how wrong I was.”
His words shouldn’t have hurt her, but they did. “I think you should leave,” she told him, pointing at her front door. It occurred to her that this wasn’t the first time she’d ordered him out of her house.
His hesitation was momentary, and then he stalked out in much the same way he’d entered.
For good measure Lindsay slammed the door after him. The bastard! Then, because she was so furious she needed to vent her emotion, she kicked the bottom corner of the fireplace. She’d never done anything this childish in her life; she’d never been this angry in her life. Not even at Monte. Pain shot up her foot and she cried out, hopping up and down, clutching at her toes.
That was when she saw it.
Lindsay froze. The brick, the one she’d been searching for all these weeks, had effortlessly slid into view. Apparently, when she kicked the fireplace, she’d struck the mechanism that opened it.
CHAPTER NINE
Friday afternoon, against his better judgment, Gage showed up at the high school, just as he’d promised. He was a man of his word, and that meant he had to follow through, even when he would have preferred to stay as far away from Lindsay Snyder as humanly possible. Early on he’d made a decision to maintain his reserve when it came to the schoolteacher, and he knew others had, too. He’d wavered from that decision—distracted by his emotions—but now he’d become more determined than ever. In a year’s time she’d be gone and it was just as well for everyone.
What he’d told her the night before remained true in his mind. She wasn’t anyone special. Not anymore, not to him. She could date Ambrose Kohn with his thirteen thousand bottomland acres and his money in the bank and Gage wouldn’t give a gnat’s ass.
“Hi, Gage.” Kevin stepped out of the school and walked toward the pickup. “Miss Snyder asked if you were going to show up this afternoon and I told her you would. I told her you always keep your word.”
Gage saw the look of relief and suspected his half brother hadn’t been as confident of that as he claimed. It just went to prove how important it was to follow through on his promises—despite his feelings. If he’d made an excuse the way he’d been tempted to, he would’ve sent Kevin the wrong message. Gage was the closest thing Kevin had to a father figure, and he took his responsibility seriously.
“Can I help you carry something inside?”
“Yeah.” Gage lowered the tailgate of his truck. He’d brought along a couple of boxes and frames, an extractor and a smoker, which he planned to demonstrate with during his talk.
Kevin reached for a box. “Miss Snyder said she’d like to talk to you privately for a couple of minutes when you’re finished. She wants to know if you can stay.”
“I’ll tell her I can.” He wasn’t going to send a teenager to do his talking for him. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to say to Lindsay Snyder that hadn’t been said the night before. Apparently she wanted the last word; he’d give it to her, but that was all she was getting from him.
The class watched as Gage and Kevin walked in with various boxes and pieces of equipment. Lindsay’s gaze sought him out, and he met her look with cool indifference.
She took her cue from that, and didn’t personally greet him.
“When I first moved to Buffalo Valley,” she said, standing in front of the class, “I approached a number of people about coming in and talking about their lives, their interests, their history in Buffalo Valley. We’re fortunate to have Kevin’s brother, Gage Sinclair, here to talk to us today about beekeeping.”
Her introduction was followed by polite applause and plenty of curious stares as he and Kevin carried the equipment to the front of the classroom. He waited until Kevin took his seat. Gage wasn’t comfortable talking in front of a group and was especially ill at ease when it was a group of teenagers, even if he had known most of them their entire lives.
“I thought I could start by telling you how I got interested in bees.” He waited until he saw Lindsay nod before he continued. He cleared his throat. “Anyone in here ever been stung?”
They almost all raised their hands.
“I was, too, plenty of times. The summer I was twelve I got stung by a nasty-tempered bee. Do you know what happens if you don’t get the stinger out?” Again his question was followed by several raised hands. “It festers into a boil. I couldn’t believe that a stinger so small I could barely see it would do that to my body. It was an unpleasant experience, but it made me curious about wasps and hornets and bees, and I found honeybees fascinating.”
“I’d be more afraid of them than curious,” Kevin’s girlfriend piped up.
“That’s because you’re a girl,” one of the Loomis twins said with a snicker.
Lindsay cast her students a look that quickly silenced them.
“When I was thirteen, I was assigned to write a paper on the subject of my choice. My mother suggested I write about bees, seeing I already knew so much about them.”
“When did you start keeping bees?” Amanda Jensen wanted to know.
“About ten years ago,” Gage said. “And I’m still learning. The hives are a challenge every single season.”
“Even now?”
“Even now,” he told them, and went on to explain the different feeding cycles.
“Where did you get your bees? Did you buy them?”
One of the Lammermann boys laughed at Calla Stern’s question and she turned around and glared at him.
“Actually, that’s an excellent question. There are three ways to get bees, and each has its pros and cons. The first is a nucs or nucleus, and they’re generally bought as a three-or five-foot frame. They store an open brood and a laying queen, plus a fair number of bees of all ages.” He held up a frame for them to see. “This frame fits inside the box where the hive lives.”
“So you can buy the nucs?” Stan Muller asked.
“Yes. You can also get what’s known as a package. Bees are sold by the pound, just like something off Hansen’s grocery-store shelf. Like the nucs, the package includes a mated, laying queen bee.”
“You can actually buy bees,” Calla said with a tinge of righteous justification.
Gage went on to explain that this was the method he’d first used himself, and he described a lot of the errors he’d made in those early days.
“You said there were three methods of getting bees,” Kevin reminded him.
“The third is swarms. How many of you have seen a bee swarm?”
Only one hand went up. “Personally I never have,” Gage confessed. “Most beekeepers don’t resort to catching swarms to supplement their hives.”
“But why?” Bert Loomis asked. “It sounds like a great way to get bees without having to pay for them.”
“It does, but there’s always the risk of bringing disease into your hives and that’s something all beekeepers want to avoid.”
For an hour Gage answered questions and was impressed by the students’ interest. When the school bus arrived, he was pleasantly surprised to note the time. He hadn’t expected his talk to go this well.
“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair,” Lindsay said from the back of the room.
“I brought everyone something to take home,” Gage explained opening a box. “There’s a small jar of honey…”
“It’s really good,” Kevin assured his friends. He stood and grabbed his books from the edge of his desk. “Meet you at the truck in half an hour, Gage.”
Gage nodded. “I also have these creamy bars made from beeswax. They’re used like hand lotion. I brought one for each of the ladies.”
He was thanked again as the students filed out of the classroom. Gage stayed behind, taking extra time to gather up the items he’d brought with him.
It wasn’t long before he was alone with Lindsay. “I understand you had something you wanted to say,” he said stiffly.
“Yes.” She stayed at the far end of the room, near the door, as if she, too, were uncomfortable being close to him. Her hands were clenched, shoulders straight, back rigid.
“First of all, I want you to know I appreciate your coming in this afternoon.”
“I stick to my word.”
“I didn’t tell you I wouldn’t date anyone else,” she reminded him, her eyes flashing.
He supposed he had to concede that point, but he was uninterested in furthering the argument. From this day forward, he’d do everything in his power to avoid her. It only made sense. Clearly, she didn’t want to pursue a relationship; just as clearly, he shouldn’t pursue one.
“Perhaps it’d be best not to talk about our quarrel.”
“I’m more than willing to drop the entire matter.” He reached for his equipment again.
“The reason I asked to speak to you,” she began in a rush. She hesitated and glanced down at her clenched hands. “I thought you’d like to know I found the hollow brick.”
“You did?” Gage said, astounded. “How?” He’d been over every inch of that fireplace.
A chagrined smile came and went. “After you left, I…uh, I kicked the fireplace.”
“You kicked the fireplace?” he repeated incredulously.
Her expression was sheepish. “You made me so mad, I couldn’t stand it. Wherever I hit must’ve triggered the mechanism because the brick slid out smooth as could be.”
“And?” He sincerely hoped she didn’t intend to keep him in suspense.
“It was empty.”
“Empty,” he echoed. He could tell from her voice that she was intensely disappointed. He didn’t know what she’d been expecting to find; she hadn’t said and he hadn’t pried. But finding the brick wasn’t idle curiosity on her part.
“I’m sure she moved it.”
Gage figured the she had to be Gina Snyder. He remembered her well, and she hadn’t looked like someone with a deep dark secret she kept buried in a fireplace.
Lindsay gave a small shake of her head as though she regretted having spoken. “Never mind.”
Gage lifted the boxes and headed toward the door. This time she didn’t stop him, but she followed him outside. Walking ahead of him, she lowered the tailgate on his pickup. Gage slid everything onto the bed.
“Thank you again,” she said, and Gage thought he heard a hint of sadness in her voice.
He didn’t have anything else to add. He merely nodded in acknowledgment and climbed inside the truck.
“Gage.” She walked over to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Eyes cast down, she said, “I wanted you to know I’m sorry our friendship’s come to an end, especially over something so silly. If it’s any consolation, I had a miserable night. I don’t even want to go out with Ambrose….”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Listen, I’m not interested in your date. It’s better like this for both of us. I’ll stay out of your way and you can stay out of mine. Agreed?”
“What is it with everyone?” she cried. “Why does everyone treat me like this? I came to this town hoping to make a difference, but so far my only real friend is Hassie. Am I really such an outsider? It’s like you’re all holding your breath waiting for me to pack my bags and leave—even the kids. It drives me crazy. I’m here day after day, and…never mind, you don’t want to hear it… You’re like everyone else. Fine, you don’t want to be my friend because of some terrible wrong I’m supposed to have committed against you. You know what? I don’t need friends like you.” She turned and hurried back into the school.
Gage watched her leave, astonished at her outburst and half tempted to go after her. But he didn’t. She wasn’t one of them; she didn’t understand. Most likely, she never would.
* * *
Joanie Wyatt reached deep inside the large-capacity washing machine for Brandon’s wet coveralls and placed them inside the dryer. With the heavy October rains, she could no longer use the line to dry their laundry.
