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“No,” Dennis said, cutting him off. “But I'm afraid it just isn't going to work for either of us. I wanted you to know because, well, because I didn't want you to think I'd ever intentionally do anything to hurt Sarah.”

“I know that, Dennis.”

He nodded shortly. “I just wanted to be sure you did.” Having said his piece, he stood and carried his half-full coffee mug to the sink. With a quick wave, he walked out the door.

The first thing Jeb wanted to do was grab the phone, privacy be damned, and call his sister, demanding to know what had happened. But he'd interfered in her life once before with disastrous results and was determined not to make that mistake again.

He had another reason, too. If he called Sarah and asked her about Dennis, his sister was guaranteed to mention Maddy Washburn. She found a way to work the woman's name into every conversation—not that he needed any reminders.

Jeb reached inside his shirt pocket and withdrew the two notes she'd left on his kitchen table.

He'd hoped, no, assumed, that one of the eligible men in the vicinity—and there were plenty—would be dating her by now. A part of him had wanted to ask Dennis, casually bring Maddy into their discussion. Any number of men would welcome the opportunity to get to know a woman like Maddy.

Despite that, his gut tightened just thinking about her with another man. He'd become almost accustomed to the sensation, seeing that he experienced it nearly every day.

Last Thursday he'd forgotten, just briefly, that Maddy had delivered his groceries, but the instant he stepped into the house, he realized she'd been there. It took him a moment to understand what had triggered that recognition. Then he knew. It was the lingering scent of her perfume—a light, clean floral scent that had remained behind to taunt him.

Right away he'd looked over at the table and his heart had gladdened at the sight of a second note. This message had been as brief as the first one. She'd told him she was sorry to have missed him, just as she had the previous week. Then she'd mentioned that she'd read the same book he was currently reading and asked him who he thought the murderer was and if he'd figured it out; she hadn't, she told him, not until the final scene.

The last line of her note stated simply that she'd see him next week. Not that she
hoped
to see him but that she would.

Jeb wondered if she was clairvoyant. Frankly, he doubted he could make himself stay away another Thursday afternoon.

M
addy enjoyed Thursday afternoon more than any other day. Delivering supplies to the outlying ranches and farms had become one of her major activities for the week. While she was away, the Loomis twins minded the store and thrived on the responsibility.

She'd come to enjoy her time with Margaret Clemens, and found the rancher's daughter quite charming in her own way. Beneath that rough and tough exterior was a shy, rather naive young woman. In Maddy's opinion, Margaret was undergoing something of an identity crisis. She'd always been one of the boys, but she was a woman with a woman's heart and a woman's desire for home and family. Margaret talked incessantly about Matt Eilers, the neighboring rancher who'd captured her fancy. It was clear she was in love for the first time in her life.

Generally Maddy spent an hour or so chatting with Margaret, then she went on to Jeb McKenna's ranch. He'd been at the ranch the past two weeks, and it had cheered her considerably to see him. He didn't have a lot to say, but that was all right; Maddy figured she talked enough for both of them. They'd developed a sort of pattern: he'd insist on carrying his groceries inside himself and she'd follow him into the kitchen. Then he'd offer her coffee and they'd chat a while about books and TV or he'd tell her about bison. She never stayed longer than twenty minutes, but those were the best twenty minutes of her week. As soon as she left, she found herself looking forward to the next Thursday, when she'd be back.

For years Maddy had been so caught up in her job there simply wasn't time for committed relationships. A few men had drifted in and out of her life, but no one she'd ever been really serious about. Then, just a few years ago, her parents had divorced. Despite the fact that she was an adult—and a social worker who'd seen plenty of broken marriages—Maddy was devastated by what had happened in her own family and shied away from relationships. She greatly admired her mother for the way she'd pulled her life back together and while she loved her father, Maddy wanted to shake some sense into him. He'd married a woman only two years older than Maddy and lavished her with gifts and vacations that rightfully belonged to Maddy's mother. In Maddy's opinion, anyway.

Although tainted by her parents' bitter divorce, she recognized that she wanted a husband and, eventually, children. Seeing Lindsay's happiness with Gage had created a strong yearning within Maddy to find that kind of contentment for herself. They had her out to their place once a week for dinner and she always left feeling warmed by their love and friendship—and lonelier than before.

Julie Pounder's death had been the catalyst that caused Maddy to leave social work, but she'd resigned for other reasons, as well. She'd wanted her life back.

Once she'd moved to Buffalo Valley, it didn't take long to meet single men. In fact, she'd been asked out by half a dozen men already, and kicked herself because she'd turned down each request. She'd hemmed and hawed and made excuses because she was waiting for Jeb McKenna to issue an invitation.
He
was the man she wanted to know better, the man who stirred her heart. Who dominated her thoughts.

November had hit North Dakota with a vengeance. It was hard to believe that just six weeks earlier they'd had such a beautiful Indian summer, with eighty-degree weather. That Thursday afternoon in mid-November, Maddy packed up the back of her Bronco and headed out to make her routine deliveries. The Grand Forks radio station forecast snow and Maddy listened to the frequent weather reports as she drove from place to place making her rounds.

Unlike previous weeks, Margaret Clemens wasn't waiting for her when she arrived at the Triple C Ranch. “Where's Margaret?” Maddy asked the housekeeper as she carried in the groceries.

Sadie shook her head as she used the spatula to lift freshly baked cookies onto a wire rack to cool.

Maddy shucked off one glove and helped herself to a chocolate chip cookie.

Sadie slapped her hand, then pointed the spatula in the direction of the yard. “You might check the barn.”

“She knew I was coming, didn't she?”

Sadie gave a resigned shrug. “Far as I know. She's got a burr under her saddle about something.”

On previous visits, Margaret had all but run to the car, anxiously awaiting Maddy's arrival, eager to chat about what she called “girl things.” The snow had started to fall, but Maddy wasn't comfortable leaving until she found out what had upset Margaret.

As Maddy left the house, the snow and driving wind stung her face, and she rushed from the house to the barn. She was dressed warmly and had worn boots, although she wished now she'd brought a scarf, as well. She pushed open the barn door; sure enough, Margaret was inside, shoveling hay. The not-unpleasant scent of horses and alfalfa greeted her, despite the cold.

“Hello,” she called when Margaret didn't immediately acknowledge her.

Margaret glanced over her shoulder.

“Sadie told me I'd find you in here.” She walked farther into the barn, wondering what could be wrong.

“Hi,” Margaret said with a decided lack of enthusiasm. Silently she pitched another forkful of hay into one of the stalls, her back to Maddy.

Maddy hesitated, knowing she should probably leave now if she wanted to miss the worst of the storm. But there was clearly a problem. “You'd better tell me what's bothering you.”

Margaret continued her task, methodically forking hay into the stall. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Maddy repeated. “Why am I having trouble believing that?”

Margaret shoved the pitchfork into the bale of hay, her shoulders heaving. Her eyes clouded with pain as she cried, “I thought you were my friend!”

“I thought you were mine,” Maddy replied without hesitation.

Margaret blinked, taken aback by Maddy's accusation. “What do you mean by that?”

“Apparently I've done something to upset you, although I don't know what. If that's the case, then we should talk it out. That's what real friends do when one has unintentionally upset the other.”

Margaret considered that for a few moments, then nodded. Sitting on top of a barrel, she removed her gloves and shoved her bangs away from her face. When they'd first met, Margaret's hair had been as short as a man's. Maddy had advised her to let it grow. Every week since, Margaret had complained about it.

“Matt Eilers told me he asked you out!”

“So?” That was it? She'd received two or three invitations from him in the past couple of weeks.

“You know how I feel about Matt,” Margaret cried. “My knees go weak every time I'm around him. I'm just crazy about that man.”

“I know.” Matt was all Margaret talked about. He'd come into the grocery store on several occasions and Maddy had to admit he was good-looking in a Clint Eastwood kind of way—a younger Clint Eastwood. Tall, sandy-haired, whipcord lean. He was handsome, all right. And he knew it. Maddy wouldn't have gone out with him even if she hadn't been Margaret's friend. He wasn't her type. He was a little too sure of himself, a little too cocky. A little too aware of his good looks and the effect they had on the opposite sex.

Maddy feared Margaret was setting herself up for nothing but heartache when it came to Matt and secretly hoped that once she started acting and dressing in a more feminine way, other men would take notice. If that happened, maybe Margaret would forget about Matt.

“Are you going out with him?” Margaret asked, her dark eyes pleading with her to deny it.

“No,” Maddy assured her. “Did you honestly think I would?”

Margaret blushed and nodded. “Isn't he the most beautiful man you've ever seen? Whenever he looks at me, my stomach starts to do funny things. Then I think of what it would be like to have him touch me and kiss me and…oh, damn, I just go all mushy.”

“There are other men, Margaret, more—” In the nick of time, she stopped herself from saying “more suitable.”

“Not for me. I want Matt.” Her eyes sparked with the fervor of her words. “He's the one for me, and if it means letting my hair grow and wearing a dress, then I'll do it. I'd do anything for Matt.”

Oh, dear. Maddy longed to warn her, longed to steer her in some other man's direction, but knew it wouldn't do any good. Margaret Clemens had set her sights on Matt Eilers, and it would take an act of God to change her mind.

They chatted a few minutes longer. Then, conscious of the snowstorm howling outside, Maddy left. The wind had grown stronger, plastering her coat against her as she tried to run to her truck. She slipped several times but managed not to fall. The temperature must have dropped ten degrees in the short interval she'd spent in the barn, and the cold was so intense that it hurt to breathe. Snow stung any skin that was exposed, and it felt as though tiny needles were pricking her cheeks and face. Her eyes started to water.

Inside her truck again, Maddy felt safe and warm. However, by the time she was back on the road, she wasn't so sure she should have left. To be on the safe side she pulled off and reached for her cell phone. She punched out Jeb's number and waited five rings for his answering machine to click on.

“Jeb,” she said, feeling awkward talking to his machine. “It's Maddy, and I wanted you to know I'm leaving the Triple C now.” She pushed her glove aside in order to check the time. “It's ten after three, so I should be at your place within fifteen minutes. It might take a little longer because of the weather. I thought you should know I was on the road. See you soon. Bye.”

Leaning as far as she could over the steering wheel in an effort to see, Maddy went maybe another mile. She couldn't be far from the turnoff to Jeb's ranch, but landmarks were obliterated in the storm and it was impossible to tell. The snow was coming so fast and thick now that she could no longer see the road.

Soon the snow completely blinded her. Afraid she was about to drive into the ditch, she stopped and picked up her cell phone again. She wasn't sure who to call this time, then decided on Jeb. He was the closest. He could advise her, tell her what to do, send for help if necessary. But when she tried her phone, it didn't work; either the battery was dead or the storm had disrupted the satellite transmitter.

There was nothing Maddy could do but sit and wait, and hope against hope that someone would find her soon.

 

With the wind moaning and the frenzied whirling of the snow, Jeb hurried from the barn to the house, stumbling forward and catching himself before he fell. Even now, after all these years, he found it hard to remember that he couldn't run the way he once had. His thoughts had been on Maddy and he prayed she'd had sense enough to stay in Buffalo Valley during the storm.

He experienced no small relief when he saw his bare counter. The thought of her being trapped somewhere on the road in this blizzard terrified him. He noticed the blinking light of his answering machine and knew without checking that it was Sarah. His older sister made a habit of calling him frequently, and always during storms. Thanks to Maddy, he had more than enough supplies to see him through. He'd left plenty of food for his herd and wouldn't worry about them unless the blizzard lasted more than a couple of days.

The wind had nearly cut him in half and he was cold to his bones. Rather than take time now to listen to his sister's concerned voice, he went into the bathroom for a long hot shower. If the storm continued like this, he'd probably lose electricity and he wanted to take advantage of the hot water while he had it. Luckily he had a fireplace and a generator that would kick in to keep his appliances going.

Warm from his shower, Jeb walked past the answering machine on his way into the kitchen and pushed the message button. At the sound of Maddy's voice, he stopped abruptly. When he realized she was trapped in the storm, his heart went into a tailspin.

Maddy was on the road, somewhere between his place and the Clemens ranch. The thought of her driving in blizzard conditions was enough to chill his blood. Having lived in the South, she had no experience driving in snow.
Dear God in heaven, Maddy, stay in your car. Please stay in the car.
He wasn't sure he could even find her. If he did, he could only hope it wouldn't be too late.

 

Maddy had never been colder in her life. Every time she tried to move, it was agony. Snow and cold, especially a cold this intense, was virtually alien to her. A little more than one hour had passed, and the road was completely nonexistent, the landscape indistinct. Desperate, fearing she'd freeze to death, she turned on the engine and started inching forward. But she hadn't gone more than a few feet when she felt the tires slip down an embankment. Helpless to do anything, Maddy clung to the wheel as the Bronco slid into the ditch.

She wasn't going to die, she told herself repeatedly. Jeb would hear the message; he'd find her. He'd come for her if he could. All she needed to do was wait. She dared not leave the vehicle, but she'd never been very patient and it was so incredibly cold. On Hassie's advice, she'd kept a blanket and bottled water in the car, but the blanket added only a little warmth. Every few minutes she restarted her engine and let the warm air revive her, but she was running low on gas.