Dakota Born. Debbie Macomber

       Make time for friends. Make time for

       Debbie Macomber

       CEDAR COVE

      16 Lighthouse Road

      204 Rosewood Lane

      311 Pelican Court

      44 Cranberry Point

      50 Harbor Street

      6 Rainier Drive

      74 Seaside Avenue

      8 Sandpiper Way

      92 Pacific Boulevard

      1022 Evergreen Place

      1105 Yakima Street

      A Merry Little Christmas

      (featuring 1225 Christmas Tree Lane and 5-B Poppy Lane)

       BLOSSOM STREET

      The Shop on Blossom Street

      A Good Yarn

      Susannah’s Garden

      (previously published as Old Boyfriends)

      Back on Blossom Street

      (previously published as Wednesdays at Four)

      Twenty Wishes

      Summer on Blossom Street

      Hannah’s List

      A Turn in the Road

      Thursdays at Eight

      Christmas in Seattle

      Falling for Christmas

      Angels at Christmas

      A Mother’s Gift

      A Mother’s Wish

      Happy Mother’s Day

      Be My Valentine

       THE MANNINGS

      The Manning Sisters

      The Manning Brides

      The Manning Grooms

      Summer in Orchard Valley

       THE DAKOTAS

      Dakota Born

      Dakota Home

      Always Dakota

      The Farmer Takes a Wife

      (Exclusive short story)

      Dear Friends,

      I’ve been looking forward to seeing the DAKOTA series in print again! And judging by the letters and e-mails I’ve received over the past few years, so have many of you.

      These books are special to me. They reflect the fact that the Dakotas are an important part of my own heritage. My mother was born and raised in Dickinson, North Dakota, and my father came from Ipswich, South Dakota. The Dakotas and the immigrants who settled there shaped my parents’ lives and, in turn, shaped mine. In November 1998 I flew into Minneapolis and met my cousin Shirley Adler.

      With a rental car and a map, we toured the Dakotas, laughing ourselves sick along the way, sharing childhood memories. I looked up cousins I hadn’t seen in more than thirty years and savoured some wonderful moments with Aunt Gladys in Dickinson and with Aunt Betty and Uncle Vern in Aberdeen, South Dakota. Uncle Vern has since died, which makes the memories of that visit even more precious. At the time of his death, he and Aunt Betty had been married for seventy-two years!

      While I was on this research trip, two writing friends—Judy Baer and Sandy Huseby, both of North Dakota—provided invaluable assistance. They answered countless questions and shared their love and pride in their state with me. I can only hope I did North Dakota justice. And I hope you enjoy this story about finding love in a small town.

      PS I’d be delighted to hear from you! You can reach me at my website, www.debbiemacomber.com, or write to me at PO Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA.

      Dakota Born

       Debbie Macomber

       www.mirabooks.co.uk

      To Shirley Adler

      My cousin and cherished friend

       Prologue

      Ten-year-old Lindsay Snyder woke rigid with fear. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The room was as dark as coal and hot, terribly hot. Then she realized she wasn’t home in Savannah where the air conditioner cooled the worst of the summer heat. She tried not to be afraid, but she was.

      The ghost stories she’d heard at camp that summer returned to haunt her. A sudden chill raced down her spine as she recalled the tale of Crazy Man Charlie who was said to tear out people’s eyes … before he murdered them. Somehow, Crazy Man Charlie had found her. Everyone else must be dead. Everyone but her. The dream remained vague, and she tried to remember the details and couldn’t.

      Slowly she sat up in the darkness, prepared to confront whatever danger awaited her. As she did, she remembered she was at her grandparents’ house with her parents and two sisters. They’d arrived that evening after driving for what seemed like days and days to North Dakota.

      Her eyes had begun to adjust to the night, and Lindsay climbed out of the makeshift bed in her grandma’s sewing room. She tiptoed past her two sleeping sisters and down the hallway to the kitchen for a glass of water.

      A sound came from the living room and she froze at the thought of meeting Crazy Man Charlie face-to-face. Holding her breath, she flattened herself against the refrigerator door.

      Then Lindsay saw her Grandma Gina, silhouetted in the moonlight that streamed through the big window. The heavy curtains were pulled open and her grandma stood by the brick fireplace, head bent. Lindsay would have rushed to her for a hug and told her all about the crazy man and how scared she’d been, but she didn’t know her Grandma Gina as well as she did her Grandma Dorothy. So she stayed in the kitchen, waiting for her grandmother to notice her.

      Except her grandma hadn’t heard Lindsay and didn’t know she was there. Lindsay could see that her grandmother held something in her hand, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Grandma Gina moved closer to the fireplace, but it wasn’t light enough for Lindsay to see what she was doing.

      Lindsay’s eyes widened as her grandmother leaned forward and touched the fireplace. A sort of scraping sound followed and a brick slid out. It was a hiding place! A secret hiding place.

      Fascinated, Lindsay watched as her grandmother slipped whatever she held in her hand inside the opening. The brick made the same sound as it went back into place.

      “Grandma?”

      Her hand over her heart, Grandma Gina whirled around. “Good heavens, child! You frightened me.”

      Lindsay hurried into the living room and toward the fireplace, but she couldn’t figure out which brick her grandmother had moved.

      “What are you doing up?”

      Lindsay looked away from the fireplace. “I had a dream about Crazy Man Charlie.”

      “Who?”

      “I heard stories about him at summer camp.” She ran her fingers along the fireplace, trying to work out which brick had moved. “What did you hide in here, Grandma?”

      “It’s