Buffalo Valley (5 page)

“I will,” he promised.

When he ended the phone conversation, he found Hassie setting the table. He insisted on taking over, eager to contribute something to their dinner. His admiration and love for the older woman had grown this afternoon in ways he hadn't thought possible on such short acquaintance. She'd opened his eyes to a couple of important things. First and foremost, he'd learned about the man he'd been named after and discovered he had quite a lot to live up to. Second, he'd come to see his parents in a new light. He understood how their fallen friend had shaped their lives and their marriage. It was no wonder they didn't often speak of Vaughn Knight. The years might have dulled the pain, but the sense of loss was as strong in them as it was in Hassie.

They chatted over dinner, and his mood lightened. Hassie was wise and considerate; she seemed to understand how serious his thoughts had become.

“The community is lighting the Christmas tree this evening,” she said casually as Vaughn carried their dishes to the sink.

“Are you going?” he asked.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Hassie informed him. “The Christmas tree is set up beside the War Memorial. Nearly everyone in town will be there—” she paused and looked at him “—including Carrie.”

“Are you playing matchmaker with me, Hassie Knight?” he asked. He had a feeling she didn't miss much—and that she'd seen the way his gaze had been drawn to Carrie when he'd entered the pharmacy.

Hassie chuckled. “She's smitten, you know.”

Smitten.
What a wonderful old-fashioned word, Vaughn mused. It would take a better man than him not to feel flattered.

“You could do worse.”

“And how do you know I don't already have a girlfriend waiting for me in Seattle?” he asked, and wondered what Hassie would think of Natalie. For some reason he had the impression she wouldn't think much of her sharp-edged sophistication. It'd taken him a while to see past Natalie's polished exterior; once he
had, he'd realized she was just like everyone else, trying to be noticed and to make a name for herself.

“You don't,” Hassie returned confidently.

He was about to tell her about Natalie, when Hassie said, “Come with me. Come and watch the community tree being lit. There's no better way to learn about Buffalo Valley.”

Vaughn's purpose, other than meeting Hassie, was to do exactly that. Still, seeing Carrie again appealed to him, too—more than it should.

“That's just what I need to put me in the Christmas spirit,” Vaughn said. “I'd consider it an honor to accompany you.”

“Wonderful.” Hassie clasped her hands together as though to keep herself from clapping with delight. “I can't tell you how happy this makes me.”

He helped her on with her coat, then grabbed his own. Taking her arm again, Vaughn guided her out the door and down the front steps. By the time they rounded the corner to Main Street and the City Park, the town was coming to life. There were groups of people converging on the park and cars stopping here and there. The air was filled with festivity—carols
played over a loudspeaker, kids shrieking excitedly, shouts of welcome…and laughter everywhere. Vaughn could practically
feel
the happiness all around him.

“This is about as close as it gets to a traffic jam in Buffalo Valley,” Hassie told him.

As soon as they appeared, it seemed everyone in town called a greeting to Hassie. Vaughn had never seen anything to compare with the reverence and love people obviously felt for her.

“You've been holding out on me, Hassie Knight,” an older man teased as he approached. “I didn't realize I had competition.”

“Cut it out, Joshua McKenna.” Hassie grinned. “Meet Vaughn Kyle.”

“Mighty pleased to meet you.” The man thrust out his hand for Vaughn to shake.

“Nearly everyone in a fifty-mile radius is coming,” Joshua said, glancing around him. More and more cars arrived, and the park was actually getting crowded.

“I don't see Calla. She's not going to make it home this year?”

“And miss spoiling her baby brother?” Joshua returned. “You're joking, right?”

Hassie laughed delightedly. “I should have known better.”

“Jeb, Maddy and the kids are already here.”

The names flew over Vaughn's head, but it was apparent that Hassie loved each family.

“Maddy owns the grocery,” Joshua explained as they strolled across the street and entered the park. “She's married to my son. Best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Oh, yes—I saw the grocery,” Vaughn said. “Maddy. I remember. The fantastic reindeer.”

Joshua grinned widely. “Yup, that's our Maddy. Loves any excuse to decorate—and does a great job.”

“They have two of the most precious children you'll ever want to see,” Hassie added, “with another on the way.”

“The first pregnancy and this latest one were real surprises.”

“I'll bet Jeb's developed a liking for blizzards,” Hassie murmured, and the two older folks burst into laughter.

“You'd have to know the history of that family to understand what's so amusing,” Carrie said, joining them.

“Hello again,” Vaughn murmured.

“Hi.”

Vaughn had trouble looking away.

“How about you and Carrie getting me some hot chocolate?” the older woman asked.

“Bring some for me, too, while you're at it,” Joshua said.

“I think we just got our marching orders,” Carrie told him, her eyes smiling. “Is that okay?”

“I don't mind if you don't,” Vaughn replied.

The cold had brought color to her cheeks, and her long blond hair straggled out from under her wool hat. “It's fine with me. Buffalo Bob and Merrily are serving cocoa and cookies over there,” she said a little breathlessly.

“I'll be right back,” Vaughn said over his shoulder as he followed Carrie.

“Don't rush,” Hassie called after him…and then he thought he saw her wink at him.

T
he Christmas lights strung around the outside of the old house welcomed Vaughn back to his parents' home. His mother had been born and raised in Grand Forks, but his grandparents had moved to Arizona when he was six. Vaughn had no recollection of visiting the Dakotas, although he was certain they had. His memories centered on the Denver area and his father's family. Not until Rick was accepted for early retirement did they decide to return to the home that had been in the Lowell family for more than a hundred years.

The television blared from the living room as Vaughn let himself into the house, entering through
the door off the kitchen after stomping the snow from his shoes on the back porch. He unzipped his jacket and hung it on a peg, along with his muffler.

“Is that you, Vaughn?” his mother called.

“No, it's Santa,” he joked.

He watched as his mother, still holding her needlepoint, hurried into the kitchen. “You're not hungry, are you?”

“I filled up on cookies and hot chocolate.”

His mother studied him as if to gauge how the meeting with Hassie had gone—the
real
question she wanted to ask, he suspected. “Did you have a…good visit?”

“Yes.” He nodded reassuringly. “We talked before dinner, but afterward there was a tree-lighting ceremony in the park.”

“You attended that?” His mother sounded pleased.

“Sure, why not?” His response was flippant, as though this was the very thing he'd normally do. In truth, though, Vaughn couldn't recall attending anything like it since he was in grade school. The evening had been quite an experience. The whole town had come alive with music and laughter and people enjoying one another's company. Christmas had never
been a big deal to Vaughn—but he'd never seen an entire community join together like this, either. He knew it had made a lasting impression on him, that it left him longing for the same kind of warmth. For a true spirit of celebration, far removed from sophisticated parties and decorator-trimmed trees.

“How is Hassie?” his mother asked.

Vaughn wasn't sure what to say. Hassie was without a doubt one of the most dynamic women he'd ever met. She possessed character and depth and a heart that poured out love for her family and her community. He'd immediately seen how deeply she was loved and respected. After these hours in her company, Vaughn had understood why. “She's an extraordinary woman.”

“I know.” His mother's voice was soft, a little tentative. Before Vaughn could say more, she'd retreated into the living room.

Vaughn followed and his father muted the television, obviously waiting for him to enlighten them about his visit.

“Hassie let me read the letters her son wrote from Vietnam.”

His mother resumed her needlepoint and lowered
her head, as though the stitches demanded her full attention.

“They were riveting. I learned about the war itself, things I could never have learned from a book, and ab out the man who wrote them.” At the time, Hassie's son had been younger than Vaughn was now. In his letters, Vaughn had recognized the other man's sense of humanity, his hatred of war and his desire to make a difference, to share in a struggle for freedom.

“We met at the University of Michigan during our freshman year of college,” his father said, and his eyes went blank. He seemed to be back in a different place, a different time. Vaughn knew he hadn't been accepted into the service himself because of poor eyesight. “He was my roommate. Both of us were away from home for the first time and in an environment completely foreign and unfamiliar. I suppose it's only natural that we became close.”

His mother added in a low voice, “He was the most generous person I've ever known.”

“He got a part-time job tutoring a youngster who had leukemia,” his father continued, his gaze focused on the television screen. “He was hired for three hours a week, but Vaughn spent much more time with him
than that. He played games with Joey, talked to him, cheered him up, and when Joey died at thirteen, the boy's mother said Vaughn had been his best friend.”

“That's the kind of person he was,” his mother said.

“Hassie gave me the school letter he earned in wrestling. And then, after I walked her back home, she said there was something else she wanted me to have.” His parents looked up when he paused. Even now, Vaughn could hardly believe Hassie would give him such a gift.

“What, son?”

“Her husband's gold pocket watch. It would've been Vaughn's had he lived.” Hassie had placed it in his hands with tears filming her eyes, then closed his fingers around it.

“Treasure it, Vaughn,” his mother whispered.

“I do.” Vaughn's first reaction had been to refuse something that was clearly a valuable family heirloom, something that meant a great deal to the old woman. He'd felt the significance of her gift and was moved by the solemnity of her words and gestures when she'd presented it to him.

He would always keep it safe. And he would pass it down to his oldest son or daughter.

“What else did Hassie tell you?” his father asked.

“She…said how much Vaughn had loved Mom.”

“He did.”

Vaughn studied his father, looking for any sign of jealousy. If he'd been in his father's shoes—well, he wasn't entirely sure
how
he'd feel.

“We planned to marry,” his mother said, “but Hassie probably told you that.”

He nodded. “She showed me the letter in which Vaughn explains why it would be best to wait until he returned from Vietnam.”

“Only, he didn't return. And everything worked out in a completely different way.” His mother took his father's hand and held it and they gazed at each other for a moment. “But a good way,” she said quietly.

“I often wondered what Hassie really thought about the two of us getting married,” his father said. He stared at Vaughn as if, after meeting Hassie, he could supply the answer.

Indeed, Vaughn had seen the look that came over her face when she mentioned his parents' marriage. “At first I think she took it hard.” This didn't appear to surprise either of his parents.

“Our marriage was a reminder that Vaughn was never coming home,” his mother said, “and that no matter how much pain the world brings us, life continues.”

“She said as much herself.”

“I think…she was disappointed in us both.”

“Perhaps in the beginning,” Vaughn agreed, “but she changed her mind later. She told me she felt that her son approved.”

“I'm sure he did,” his mother whispered.

His father reached abruptly for the remote, indicating that the conversation was over. Sound flared back, and Vaughn got up and went to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee before rejoining his parents.

“Oh, dear, I almost forgot to tell you,” his mother said. “Natalie phoned.”

Vaughn's first reaction was that he didn't want to talk to her. Not tonight. Not after such an emotionally overwhelming day. Knowing Natalie, she'd want to discuss business, and that was the last thing on his mind. He needed to think before he returned the call, needed to absorb what he'd learned first—about the town, about Hassie…about himself.

“It isn't too late to call her back,” his mother said.
“With the time difference, it's barely eight on the West Coast.”

“I know,” he said absently, his thoughts now on Carrie Hendrickson. Much of the evening had been spent with her. After they'd brought hot chocolate to Hassie and Joshua McKenna, she'd introduced him to her family.

Vaughn had seen the wary look in her brothers' eyes and realized how protective they were of her. He wished he'd had more of a chance to talk to Carrie, but they were constantly interrupted. She was a favorite with her nieces and nephews, who were forever running up to her, involving her in their games and their squabbles. She was a natural peacemaker, he observed, one of those people whose very presence brought out the best impulses in others. Like Hassie. And the people in town valued Carrie in much the same way; that was easy to tell. They came to her for advice and comfort. They were drawn to her just as he was.

“Your father and I are looking forward to meeting Natalie,” his mother said, breaking into his musings.

Vaughn started guiltily. He was as good as en
gaged—although, he supposed, all they'd really done was discuss the possibility of marriage. He hadn't divulged his plans to either of his parents. At Natalie's request, he hadn't even told them about his job. “She's anxious to meet you, too,” he said, but without a lot of enthusiasm. The contrast between Natalie and Carrie flashed like a neon sign in his brain. One was warm and personable and focused on the needs of her community, the other sharp, savvy and ambitious. When he'd arrived in North Dakota, he thought he knew what he wanted; all at once, he wasn't sure.

“You've been seeing her for two years now,” his mother went on, watching him.

“Barbara, the boy doesn't need you to tell him that.”

Vaughn sipped his coffee.This was one conversation he had no wish to continue. “Carrie and I are going Christmas shopping tomorrow,” he said, instead.

His mother lowered the needlepoint to her lap and stared at him. “Carrie? Who's Carrie?”

Vaughn didn't realize his mistake until it was too late. “A friend.”

His mother raised her eyebrows as if his answer didn't please her. “When did you have time to make friends?”

“She works with Hassie at the pharmacy.”

“I see.” It appeared his mother did see, because she said nothing more.

Vaughn wished he understood his own feelings. A week ago he would have rushed to return Natalie's call. He wasn't avoiding
her
, he decided, but the subject of Value-X and Buffalo Valley. In a matter of days—one day, really—he'd become oddly protective of the town…and its people. Hassie, of course, but Carrie, too. Natalie was bound to ask him questions he no longer wanted to answer.

One thing was clear; he needed to think the situation through very carefully.

Craving solitude, Vaughn swallowed the last of his coffee, then announced he was heading for bed.

His mother glanced up at the wall clock. “Aren't you calling Natalie?”

He frowned. “Later. Don't worry about it, Mom.”

“Vaughn has to rest up for shopping,” his father teased.

“Ah yes, the great shopping expedition. Where will it be, by the way?”

“The mall here in town.”

“You're actually going to a mall at this time of
year?” His father looked at him as though he'd lost his sanity.

Vaughn gave a nonchalant shrug. He didn't know what had possessed him to suggest he and Carrie meet at Columbia Mall. His excuse had been that Carrie was a wonderful source of information about the town. He'd never had the opportunity to bring up the subject of Value-X, and wanted to get her reactions to it. Or so he told himself.

The truth was, he wanted to know her better.

 

Hassie sat up in bed, her eyes on the photograph of her son on the bedroom wall. She looked at Jerry's picture next and Valerie's, then turned back to Vaughn's. It was only natural that she'd be thinking about her son tonight.

Time passed with such inexorable swiftness, she reflected. She had startlingly clear memories of Vaughn as a toddler, stumbling toward her, arms outstretched. If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear his laughter. She'd loved to scoop him into her arms and hug him close until he squirmed, wanting to run and play with his older sister. As they grew older, Valerie had
listened to his confidences and offered a big sister's sage advice.

How carefree life had been for her and Jerry in the early 1950s. Simple pleasures had meant a great deal back then. She could think of no greater comfort than sitting with her husband after a day at the pharmacy, a day they'd spent working together. Jerry would slip his arm around her shoulder and she'd press her head against his. He loved to whisper the sweetest words in her ear, and oh, she'd enjoyed being in his arms. In those days, it seemed the sun would never stop shining and the world would always be filled with happiness.

Turning out the light, Hassie nestled under the covers and let her memories take her back. Valerie and Vaughn used to come to the pharmacy every afternoon after school. To this day she could still picture the two of them sitting at the soda fountain, waiting to be served an after-school snack. They were a normal sister and brother, constantly bickering. Valerie always teased Vaughn, and when she did, he'd tug her pigtails hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Then it would be up to Hassie to chastise them both. Softhearted Jerry had left the discipline to her. Hassie hated it, but
knew her children needed to understand that their actions had consequences.

The years flew by so fast! Looking back, Hassie wished she'd appreciated each day a little more, treasured each moment with her children while they were young. Before she could account for all the years that had passed, it was 1960, and Vaughn was in high school.