Always Dakota. Debbie Macomber

He hadn’t been in contact with Bernard Clemens for many years, but he’d given a respectable eulogy.

      “The pastor invited us to church services on Sunday,” she murmured.

      Although it was an offhand remark, Jeb knew Maddy was interested in becoming involved with a church community. He hesitated; the drive into Buffalo Valley took at least fifty minutes, and that was on a good day. Going to church would consume nearly all of Sunday morning. He opened his mouth, about to offer his wife a list of excuses as to why it would be inconvenient to attend. Before he could utter a word, he changed his mind. The fact that she’d mentioned the invitation at all meant this was important to her and shouldn’t be taken lightly.

      When he married Maddy, Jeb knew there’d be a number of concessions on his part, but he loved her enough to make them. She’d certainly made concessions of her own—one of which was living so far out of town, away from her friends and the grocery she’d purchased a little more than a year ago. Church for Maddy would be a social outlet, and it would uplift her emotionally and spiritually. Women needed that.

      Jeb and Maddy had met soon after she’d bought the one and only grocery store in Buffalo Valley. Her lifelong friend, Lindsay Snyder, had begun teaching at the high school and married Gage Sinclair the following summer. Maddy had been Lindsay’s maid of honor; the very day of the wedding she’d decided to settle in Buffalo Valley herself.

      Jeb would be forever grateful that she had. His life changed the day he rescued Maddy during a blizzard. She’d been trapped in her car while delivering groceries and would have frozen to death if he hadn’t found her when he did. He’d brought her home with him, never suspecting that their time together would have consequences affecting both their lives. Consequences that included an unexpected pregnancy. He’d fallen in love with her in those three snowbound days. After losing his leg in a farming accident several years earlier, Jeb had thought it would never be possible for him to live a normal life again—or to feel normal emotions, normal desires. Maddy had shown him otherwise. They’d been married four months now and he was so much in love with her he had to pinch himself every once in a while to convince himself this was real.

      “What do you think about us attending church services?” she pressed, studying him closely.

      “I think that’s a fine idea,” he said. It wouldn’t hurt and might even do him some good.

      Her smile told him how much she appreciated his response.

      A few minutes later, Maddy efficiently changed Julianne’s diaper, then settled into the rocking chair. She unbuttoned her blouse and bared her breast for their baby. Fascinated, Jeb watched as his infant daughter instinctively turned toward her mother and greedily latched on.

      Maddy rocked gently and hummed a lullaby. It wasn’t long before his daughter had taken her fill and Maddy carried her into the nursery to prepare her for the night.

      Jeb had the television on, watching a news broadcast, when Maddy joined him. They’d decided to skip dinner, since they’d eaten the equivalent of a meal at Bernard’s wake that afternoon. Now, sitting at her husband’s side, Maddy picked up her knitting, a recently learned skill. Leta Betts, a devout knitter and Lindsay’s mother-in-law, had taught both Maddy and Lindsay how to knit while they were pregnant. “I wonder what Margaret’s going to do now.”

      Jeb glanced away from the television long enough to recognize that Maddy needed to talk about this. He reached for the remote control and muted the sound. “It wasn’t as though Bernard’s death came as a shock.”

      “I know. It’s just that …”

      “What?” he urged.

      “I’m worried about what’ll happen to Margaret without her father there to protect her.”

      “How do you mean?”

      “She’s alone for the first time in her life—and vulnerable.”

      Jeb frowned. He hadn’t given the matter much thought, but Maddy was right. Margaret had lived a sheltered life, protected by her father and his name.

      “She’s easy prey for some man. Anyone with a good line can just step in and take advantage of her. Look at all the attention she got at Bob and Merrily’s wedding.”

      Jeb had no recollection of anything about that night except Maddy. She’d been seven months pregnant with his child. It was the night he’d asked her to marry him and she’d agreed.

      “Almost every single man in Buffalo Valley invited Margaret to dance.”

      It went without saying that the transformation in Margaret’s appearance and manner was due to Maddy’s efforts.

      Maddy’s knitting needles clicked more rapidly, signaling her anxiety. “Margaret is about to become a very wealthy woman.”

      “Credit her with some sense, Maddy,” Jeb said. “She’s intelligent and capable. Bernard made sure of that.”

      “I agree with you, except for one thing.”

      “What’s that?”

      “She’d marry Matt Eilers in a heartbeat. Don’t ask me why, but she’s in love with the man.” The knitting needles were a blur by now. “He’d take advantage of her, too.”

      “You don’t know that,” Jeb said, although he suspected she was right. He wasn’t any fonder of Matt Eilers than Maddy was. They’d never had any business dealings, he and Matt, so Jeb had no concrete reason to distrust the rancher. But he did.

      “I hate myself for thinking ill of him,” she muttered.

      Jeb shrugged. He viewed Eilers as a weak man, although he wasn’t sure exactly what had shaped that opinion.

      Maddy’s sigh was expressive. “Last I heard, he was dating Sheryl Decker in Devils Lake.”

      Jeb had never heard of her. “Who?”

      “Sheryl Decker. She waits tables at a truck stop outside town.”

      “Maybe he’ll marry her, then,” Jeb suggested, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.

      Maddy sighed and relaxed the knitting needles in her lap. “We can always hope.”

      “Matt,” Sheryl Decker called from the bedroom. “Bring me my cigarettes, would you?”

      Matt opened the refrigerator and grabbed a cold can of beer. Sheryl knew he didn’t like her smoking, but his wishes didn’t dissuade her.

      He returned to the bedroom and tossed the pack onto the bed, the abruptness of his action telling her he didn’t approve.

      “You know how much I enjoy my smokes,” she said, pulling open her nightstand drawer and reaching for a lighter. She placed the cigarette between her lips, lit up and blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling.

      Matt joined her on the bed and took a deep swallow of beer. He was upset with himself and with Sheryl. She knew he’d wanted to attend Bernard Clemens’s funeral. He might not have liked the wealthy rancher, but Clemens was his neighbor and he felt honor-bound to pay his last respects. Sheryl, however, had other ideas, and like a fool he’d fallen under her spell—and not for the first time, either. Without much effort, she’d managed to lure him into bed; despite his best intentions, he’d let it happen.

      “Are you still mad at me?” she asked, running her long fingernail down the length of his arm.

      “No,” he muttered. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

      “You know I have to work tonight, and this afternoon was the only time we could be together.”

      He did know. His mistake was in stopping by Sheryl’s place at all. He’d come into Devils Lake for feed and had expected to get back before the funeral.

      “You can still go to the reception, can’t you?”

      “No.”

      She