Always Dakota (26 page)

“We need playground equipment,” Hassie said next. “If families are going to come here for a picnic, they’ll want something to keep the youngsters entertained.”

“It wouldn’t take much to put up a few swings.” Maddy looked around. “Swings would be nice.”

Heath and Rachel nodded.

“One of those big timber play sets would be good, don’t you think?” Rachel asked.

Maddy liked the idea, but knew they were expensive. She mentioned the price listed in a brochure she’d read and watched the enthusiasm of her committee wane.

“And that doesn’t include assembly,” Lindsay said.

Brandon Wyatt cleared his throat. “I never thought of myself as much of a woodworker, but I did a fairly decent job constructing the display shelves for the video store.”

“You did a fabulous job,” Rachel insisted.

Maddy had admired his workmanship, too, and said so.

Brandon flushed at their praise. “Well, if the town could come up with money for the materials, I could build a jungle gym for the park.”

“Consider it done,” Heath said. “You order whatever you need and send me the bill.”

It was all Maddy could do to keep from clapping her hands. Then she noticed Hassie, who seemed to have something else to say.

“Hassie?”

“Listen,” she began, “I know I’m older and I won’t have grandchildren living here to enjoy the park once it’s completed.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Maddy assured her. “If you have a suggestion, we’d like to hear it.”

A number of people nodded in agreement.

“Everyone here knows I lost my son in Vietnam. I’m not the only mother to lose a son in war. I want this town to remember that there were a number of fine young men from right here in Buffalo Valley who died for their country and the freedom we enjoy.” She paused, and Maddy could tell by the way her throat worked that she was swallowing the tears brought on by painful memories of her only son’s death.

“Would you like a memorial built to honor those who died in war?” Maddy asked, taking Hassie’s hand and squeezing her fingers, letting her know she understood. “The First and Second World Wars, Korea, Vietnam?”

Hassie returned the squeeze, then reached inside her sweater pocket for a handkerchief and blew her nose. “That would please me very much. Now, I know a memorial’s going to cost a lot of money, but I’m prepared to pay for it myself. I’ve got a few dollars set aside and I can’t think of any better use for it.”

“If you’d like a sculpture, what about having Kevin work up a few designs?” Gage asked. “He’d be honored if you asked him to submit a drawing for this memorial.”

Hassie nodded. “Kevin would be my first choice.”

Maddy and Lindsay smiled at each other again. It’d been Lindsay who’d encouraged Kevin Betts to pursue his love of art, and now his artistic skills would serve the town. There was something very satisfying in that.

Matt sat at the kitchen table and watched Sadie as she fussed about the kitchen. Strangely enough, the housekeeper had turned into the best ally he had. Although she didn’t actually give him information about Margaret, she was kind enough to drop hints now and then. If it wasn’t for Sadie, he wouldn’t have any idea what his wife was thinking.

This latest tidbit, however, worried him.

“You want a refill on that coffee?” the housekeeper asked, nodding toward the ever-ready pot.

“Sure.” Although he’d already drunk two cups, he didn’t want to leave, and the coffee provided him with a convenient excuse to linger. Although God knew if Margaret caught him inside the house, there’d be hell to pay.

“She’s not suffering from morning sickness, is she?” he asked for at least the third time. Sadie had already told him that Margaret didn’t appear to be experiencing any discomfort as a result of the pregnancy.

“She’s in good health—physically,” Sadie told him and then scowled in his direction, letting him know that her
emotional
health was a different matter. As if he wasn’t already aware of how much his wife was hurting. Dammit, he was hurting, too.

“You don’t know why she drove into Grand Forks, then?” This was as bold as his questions had gotten. Right after breakfast, Margaret had left without a word. Sadie had told him it wasn’t a doctor’s appointment; those were marked on the office calendar. When Margaret hadn’t returned by lunchtime, Matt figured something was up.

Sadie finished pouring his coffee. “I have my suspicions about where she went.”

Matt did, too, and it bothered him plenty. Banished to the empty bunkhouse with nothing more than a radio to keep him occupied, Matt was left to his own devices once work was through for the day. Most nights he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He worried about Sheryl and Margaret and their babies, about his marriage and whether he had any chance of saving it.

Pastor Dawson had told him to fight for Margaret, and Matt had taken the advice to heart. If his wife assumed he was going to roll over and play dead, then she didn’t know him nearly as well as she thought.

“You’re
sure
she didn’t have a doctor’s appointment?” he asked again.

“Positive.”

Matt’s stomach churned. His biggest fear loomed before him. “She’s seeing an attorney, isn’t she?”

Sadie returned to the sink, where she peeled potatoes with the skill of many years. The brown skins curled away from the sharp blade in a perfect spiral, falling toward the sink. “I can’t rightly say if she’s with an attorney or not.”

“But you said you have your suspicions.”

“I do.”

The sick feeling was back in the pit of his stomach.

The sound of a car door closing echoed through the kitchen. Margaret must be home.

Sadie and Matt exchanged looks. For an instant he toyed with the idea of sneaking out the laundry-room door, but just as quickly, he rejected the thought.

“Let me talk to her for a few minutes,” Matt suggested.

“You telling me to leave this kitchen?” Sadie asked, fire flashing from her dark eyes.

“No,” he said quickly. “I’m asking you to give me a few minutes alone with my wife.”

Sadie hesitated, then dropped the potato in a pan of cold water. She dried her hands on her apron and walked out of the room. No sooner had she disappeared than Margaret entered the house.

Seeing Matt, she went rigid, eyes narrowed. “What are
you
doing here?” she spat.

“I want to talk to you.”

She ignored him and rushed into the long hallway. Not easily dissuaded, Matt followed. Margaret headed for the bedroom and would have slammed the door if he hadn’t stopped her by planting his foot in the way. They met face-to-face, their eyes blazing.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Hear me out. Then if you want me to leave, I will.”

She folded her arms and pretended to be bored. “Did Sadie let you in?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“I let myself in, so don’t blame Sadie.”

Frowning, she pinched her lips together. “Say what you have to say.”

“All right.” He’d known this wouldn’t be easy. Running his hand across the back of his neck, he decided to make his first volley an aggressive one. “I need to know where you were this afternoon. Because if you were seeing an attorney, there’s something you have to understand.”

“Where I was and who I saw are
my
business.”

“Not anymore.”

“Like hell, Matt Eilers! I don’t owe you any explanations. I don’t owe you anything.”

“This isn’t a matter of owing anyone. Fine, don’t tell me and I’ll just go ahead and speak my piece.” After a deliberate pause, he said, “If you saw an attorney with the intention of filing for divorce, then you should know I plan to fight you every step of the way.”

She glared at him, as if to say she welcomed the challenge.

“I admit the situation is unfortunate. You regret our marriage. I can appreciate that. But you were the one who chose to marry me and by God, we’re going to stay married.”

She blinked and looked away.

“I’ve got regrets, too,” he continued. “A whole truckload of those. Unfortunately, there’s not one damn thing I can do to change the circumstances now.”

His words fell into the silent room. Matt wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but not this…this utter lack of emotion. It was as though she’d completely closed him out.

“Are you finished?” she asked curtly.

“No,” he surprised himself by saying. “You’re my wife, dammit, and it’s high time you started acting like it.” He could tell his words had hit their mark when the fire leaped back into her eyes.

If looks could kill, there’d be a funeral in Buffalo Valley that night. “I beat the hell out of you once, Matt Eilers, and I have no compunction about doing it twice.”

He nearly laughed out loud, which would have been a big mistake. “If it’ll make you feel better, then you’re welcome to try.” She’d caught him off guard before, but she wouldn’t again.

Instantly she pulled back her clenched fist, and swung at him, but Matt caught her fist with his open hand. Despite her outrage and anger, her struggle was futile.

“Did you have an appointment with an attorney?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she hissed back.

The admission so deflated and discouraged him, he released her hand and slumped against the bedroom door.

She could have slugged him then and he wouldn’t have cared. He sincerely doubted he would’ve felt anything beyond the numbness that had taken hold of his heart. She wanted a divorce.

Breathing hard, Margaret stood in front of him. “I didn’t originally contact him about filing for divorce,” she said after a long pause.

Puzzled, he chanced looking up. Her hands were braced against her hips, but the defensive stance was gone, replaced with a more guarded one.

She surprised him by suddenly moving into the room, sitting on the end of the bed, her back toward him. “I did talk to an attorney. Divorce was one of the options he presented.”

Matt swallowed hard. “That isn’t what I want, Margaret.”

She snickered softly. “At this point, I’m not overly concerned with your wishes.”

He suspected that was true.

“I needed to know what my legal rights are in regard to Sheryl and her…baby.”

“I talked to an attorney, too.”

“I knew that,” she said, sounding matter-of-fact. “But I wasn’t interested in talking to the same attorney you had.”

Rather than question her reasoning, he asked, “What did your attorney say?”

“Nothing that I didn’t already know. We’re financially and emotionally responsible for your…daughter. It’ll mean you and Sheryl will have to develop a parenting plan. The child will be spending time here, vacations, holidays—for at least the next eighteen years. She’ll be part of our lives.”

“She’s my responsibility, I’ll—”

“Get real,” Margaret snapped. “If we’re married, she’ll be in this house, eating, sleeping, calling you daddy right along with our child. She’s going to need your love—and mine.”

As Margaret had just reminded him, he wasn’t the only one involved in this. The child would be a constant reminder of his faults, of the pain he’d caused his wife. More than that, he was asking her to love his daughter. No wonder Margaret was feeling overwhelmed. So far, all he’d sought was her forgiveness, her acceptance. That had been paramount in his mind. Everything else—the ramifications of fatherhood and of Margaret being his child’s stepmother—had escaped him.

“You’re right.”

She didn’t respond. Her back was to him so he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t read her thoughts or gauge her feelings.

“Do you want out of the marriage?” he asked bluntly.

“I don’t know yet.”

“I said I’d fight for you, fight for our marriage, and I meant it.” He exhaled sharply. “But if you really want out, then I’ll abide by your wishes.”

He stood and started to walk away.

“Why the change of heart?” She seemed genuinely curious.

“It’s asking too much of you…I wanted, needed, your forgiveness, but this goes beyond that. Way beyond…”

“Yes,” she whispered brokenly, “it does.”

With nothing more to say, Matt left the bedroom. Sadie was back at the sink peeling potatoes when he walked through the kitchen.

She glanced at him and then did a double take. “What happened?”

He shook his head, unable to answer.

“That bad?”

“That bad,” he echoed.

B
uffalo Bob replaced the telephone receiver, but continued to grip the phone. He needed to hold on to something. Anything.

Pain, followed by escalating anger, charged through him. He felt breathless, as though he’d been kicked in the gut. Not knowing what to do, he sank into the chair and waited for the shock to pass. He had to be in control of his own emotions before he could deal with Merrily’s.

“Bob, I—” Merrily came into the office and stopped short when she saw the look on his face. In that instant she must have known. “What is it?” she asked, her voice small and fragile.

For the life of him, he couldn’t answer her. Not yet.

“Bob?” she cried.

“That…that was Doug Alder,” he whispered hoarsely.

“He heard about the adoption?”

Bob nodded and slowly got to his feet. “Sit down, sweetheart.”

“Sit down? Does that mean you have something to tell me I don’t want to hear? Is that what you’re trying to say?” She clutched her stomach and lowered herself into the wooden chair. Her arms still clutched her middle as she stared up at him. Her eyes, her big beautiful eyes, were wide with fear.

“We knew when we applied to adopt Axel—”

“Just tell me!” she shouted, tears already brimming, ready to spill down her pale cheeks.

Bob felt like sobbing himself. “The judge decided on another couple as the adoptive parents for Axel. Two doctors who’ve been waiting five years to adopt a child. They’re…good people.”

“And we’re not?” she sobbed. Leaning forward she started to rock gently.

“Neither one of them has been arrested on drug charges,” he muttered, repeating what their attorney had told him. Bob had hoped and believed and trusted that he’d done the honorable thing when he contacted the authorities about Axel. He’d known the risks, but he’d been willing to take them because he’d truly thought that in time Axel would be returned to him and Merrily. They were his parents. The only family he knew. They loved the boy.

His wife was sobbing now. She covered her face with both hands and continued to rock with grief. Had he been able to, Bob would have reached out and comforted her, but his own pain was too great. He had nothing to give her, nothing to help her through this.

“It’s all my fault,” he whispered.

“Why did this happen?” Merrily wailed. “Why?” she demanded again when he didn’t answer.

“We each have a police record.”

“That was years ago—it shouldn’t matter anymore. Is the court honestly going to hold a five-year-old drug arrest against me for the rest of my life?”

“There’s more…Doug said we displayed a less than ideal home environment.” He shook his head hopelessly.

“Less than ideal what?” Her voice echoed the outrage he’d felt when he’d first heard the words. “Did they say I wasn’t a good enough mother? Is that it? That I didn’t love Axel enough? Because I couldn’t have loved him any more than I already do right now. Bob, Bob, what am I going to do without my baby?”

Bob had no answers or reassurances, as desperate as Merrily was to hear them. Apparently, the judge didn’t feel that living above a bar was the proper environment for a child. Or that Bob had potential as a father. Or Merrily as a mother, despite her love, despite the fact that she’d saved Axel’s life.

He shook his head again, unable and unwilling to repeat what was sure to bring her more pain. “We both loved him enough….”

“Then why?” Her sobs made the words almost indistinguishable.

Bob wished it was possible for him to cry, to vent his own bitterness and sense of loss. Instead he shoved all the emotion deep inside.

“Blame me,” he told her.

Merrily stared at him, her face streaked with tears, her eyes imploring him to untangle the court’s message. “You?”

“Remember how the caseworker examined the new plaster on the wall?” he asked. He didn’t wait for Merrily to respond. “She asked me about it, and I made up some excuse.”

“You lied?”

“Yes, dammit, I lied. I couldn’t very well admit that I rammed my fist through the wall, could I? Only it didn’t do any good. If anything, it hurt us. These people are trained observers, and she put two and two together fast enough, especially since I’d recently been in a cast and she saw that, too.”

“Oh, Bob.”

“In her report, she concluded that I’m susceptible to fits of anger.”

Merrily gasped. “The only reason you punched the wall was because I’d run away.”

“It doesn’t matter why I did it.” He couldn’t, wouldn’t tell Merrily what else the report said. No need to rub salt into her wounds. In making his decision, the judge had also cited Merrily’s tendency to run away when confronted with problems.

“What are we going to do?” She sobbed. But he had nothing to suggest. He’d never felt so inadequate.

“The attorney said the judge told him the decision was a difficult one.” As though that was supposed to make them feel better. It didn’t. Nothing would.

Without another word, Merrily stood, and he watched as she wandered blindly out of his office, then drifted upstairs. He watched her mount the stairs, one by one, her steps slow and uncertain. She headed toward their living quarters and didn’t look back.

Unable to deal with customers, Bob closed the bar and restaurant for the day and sealed himself inside his office. He sat dazed with shock and pain, unable to do more than stare at the wall. He didn’t know how long he remained there before the sound of someone knocking invaded his grief.

Reluctantly he went to check, and discovered Hassie standing outside the locked door, peering through the window.

“Let me in,” she demanded.

“I’m closed.”

“Well, open up. Folks are worried about you.”

Bob frowned. How could people already know—then again, maybe they didn’t. With no enthusiasm, he turned the lock and stepped away from the door.

Hassie didn’t wait for an invitation. She hurried inside and closed up after herself. “This is about Axel, isn’t it?”

Bob nodded, unable to meet her gaze. Eventually the town would discover the truth. He and Merrily couldn’t hide the fact that their son, the boy they loved, had been given to a different family.

“The judge awarded him to another couple,” Bob said, figuring that was explanation enough.

A look of sadness came over her, and she gave a deep sigh. “No wonder you’ve closed up shop. Where’s Merrily?”

“Upstairs.”

“Come on,” Hassie said, and led him into the kitchen as if she were steering a child. “I remember what it was like when those two young men from the Army came to tell me my son was dead. I couldn’t think, couldn’t eat, could barely function for days. Now listen, you sit down here and I’m going to make us all a pot of tea.”

“Tea?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous. You lost your son and I’m boiling water, but it will help. Trust me on this, there are few things more soothing to the spirit than a cup of tea.”

As soon as the kettle whistled, she had the tea leaves steeping. “Stay here, I’m going to check on Merrily.”

Grateful, he nodded. He hadn’t meant to abandon his wife, but he couldn’t help her, not when he was hurting so badly himself. His heart actually ached. The lump in his throat was so large, he found it difficult to swallow or breathe normally. The telephone conversation had hit him hard. Until that moment, he’d been living with expectation, with the hope and promise of joy. It felt as though a bomb had gone off, devastating their lives.

Reality was slowly sinking in. Axel would now look to another man and call him daddy. The boy Bob loved, who’d found his way into Bob’s heart, would belong to some other man, a stranger who had more to offer him than Bob did. A physician, a wealthy man who could give Axel material goods. Perhaps so, but no one—
no one
—would love Axel more than Bob and Merrily did. It wasn’t possible. They’d risked everything for the boy; surely that must prove something. Surely the courts had taken into account the courage it’d required to step forward, to risk losing their son.

The gamble, the giant gamble, hadn’t paid off.

It was a long time before Hassie came downstairs. Her eyes were red, and Bob knew she’d sat and wept with Merrily. Their friend had held and comforted Merrily when Bob couldn’t.

Silently, she poured him a cup of tea. “There isn’t any pain in this world worse than losing a child. I know this situation is different from mine. You aren’t going to stand there and watch Axel being lowered into the ground, the way I did my boy. But the pain is the same.”

“He might as well be dead. He’s dead to Merrily and me.”

“True enough. You had him for a short while and changed his life. You have a great deal to be proud of. You and Merrily gave that boy the love he desperately needed.”

“Merrily—is she all right?”

“No,” Hassie said as she set the steaming tea in front of him. “She needs you, but she won’t ask.”

He suspected his wife was waiting for a convenient moment to disappear. Come morning, he fully expected to wake and find her gone.

Bob sipped the sweetened tea. It was too hot and burned his throat, but he didn’t care. He tried not to think, tried to put Axel out of his mind. And couldn’t.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. By all that was right, they should be Axel’s adoptive parents. Instead he was financially crippled by attorneys’ fees, his heart was damn near ripped from his chest and his wife was upstairs sobbing. But how could he give her peace when he hadn’t found any himself?

“What am I going to do now?” he asked Hassie. She’d lived through this; she would know. “What happens next?”

“Pain, lots of pain, but eventually you and Merrily are going to release your son,” she said.

“Release him?” This was a sick joke. They’d lost Axel five months ago, only they hadn’t realized it until this morning. The boy would never be theirs again.

“Not from your heart,” Hassie was quick to amend. “That would be impossible. Never from your heart.”

Early Friday afternoon Maddy was at the grocery. She generally came in once a week to check on her store, although most of the everyday management was handled by Pete Mitchell.

This arrangement worked well with Jeb and Julianne, too, and gave her husband one afternoon a week to spend with their daughter. Jeb had proved to be a wonderful father. Maddy delighted in watching her husband with Julianne and the tenderness that suffused his face as he rocked her to sleep.

Maddy was just finishing up some paperwork in the small cramped office when she heard Margaret. Her loud voice carried all the way to the back of the store. “I’m here to see Maddy,” Margaret insisted gruffly.

On their most recent visit, Margaret had broken into tears and told Maddy about her husband fathering a child with Sheryl Decker. It’d nearly broken Maddy’s heart to hear such pain. When she’d finished telling her story, Margaret had asked for advice. Sadly, Maddy didn’t know what to tell her. She was disappointed in Matt, but the fact that he’d fathered a child didn’t distress her nearly as much as the heartache he’d caused her friend.

“Margaret?” Maddy came out of the room, not knowing what to expect. She discovered her friend barreling down the produce aisle with all the grace of a lumberjack on his way to the mess hall.

“Maddy,” Margaret cried, “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Didn’t Jeb tell you where I was?”

“He did, but I thought you’d be home and—” She paused, dragged in a deep breath. “I need to talk…. Can you spare me a few minutes?”

“Of course.” Maddy stepped aside to allow Margaret into the compact quarters.

She fell into the chair, looking pale and about as forlorn as Maddy could remember. Maddy sat down, too, and waited, certain Margaret would tear into her reason for coming. When she didn’t, Maddy decided to prompt her.

“Did something happen?” she asked, deciding to take the direct approach.

Margaret put on a brave smile. “I…Matt moved out this morning.”

Maddy was sure she’d misunderstood. “Moved out?”

Margaret nodded. She blinked a few times and Maddy knew she was struggling not to break into tears. “I didn’t know who else to turn to for help,” she blurted out.

“I, uh, take it this came as a shock?” Maddy didn’t know what else to say.

Margaret shook her head, then nodded just as emphatically. “I didn’t ask him to leave, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She hesitated, and as though embarrassed to admit it, she said, “But it was what I wanted, and I made sure he knew it.” She bit her lower lip. “He said he was going to fight for me, for our marriage, but apparently he didn’t mean that any more than the other things he claimed.”

“You wanted him out of your life, right?”

Margaret swayed, and Maddy felt a moment’s alarm, especially considering the pregnancy. But Margaret rallied and took a deep breath. “Some days I wanted us to patch up our differences,” she said, “and then I’d start thinking about him with that woman and I’d get so damn mad I wanted to scratch his eyes out.” She shook her head wildly, as though to dislodge the mental image of her husband with Sheryl Decker.