Dakota Born. Debbie Macomber

      That sounded good to Lindsay. Away was away, wherever they ventured. Their destination mattered little to her. Maddy had recently bought a new car and they could share expenses.

      “I’ve always wanted to see Yellowstone Park,” Maddy said.

      “It’s fabulous,” Lindsay told her.

      “You’ve been?”

      “As a kid. You know my dad’s from North Dakota—he was born and raised there. We drove out to see the old homestead a couple of times while I was growing up. Yellowstone Park isn’t that far—at least I don’t think it is. I must have been about ten the last time we went.”

      “I liked your grandfather,” Maddie said quietly.

      Three years ago, soon after the death of Lindsay’s grandmother, Grandpa Snyder had grown disoriented and it was no longer safe for him to live alone. There was no longer any family left in the area, either Colbys—Gina’s people—or Snyders. So Lindsay’s parents had moved her grandfather from Buffalo Valley to a retirement center in Savannah, where he’d remained until his death the previous year. Lindsay had treasured that time with him, brief though it was. Because North Dakota was so far from Georgia and their visits infrequent, she’d barely known her Grandma and Grandpa Snyder.

      At first her grandfather had painfully missed the Red River Valley. He’d spoken endlessly of his life there. Lindsay remembered that he’d called the land blessed, but then said living in North Dakota was like wrestling with an angel. You had to fight it before you found the blessing. He described seeing double rainbows after a fierce rainfall, and wild winter snowstorms that turned the sky as gray as gunmetal. He’d talked about the incredible sunsets, the heavens glowing orange and pink and red as far as the eye could see.

      “I’d like to stop in Buffalo Valley,” Lindsay said.

      “Buffalo Valley?”

      “In North Dakota. It’s where my dad was raised.”

      “Sure. Let’s do that.”

      “My grandparents’ house is still there. It’s never sold.”

      “The ol’ homestead?”

      “No,” Lindsay said. “My grandparents sold the farm back in the early seventies and moved into town.” Lindsay wasn’t sure why their house hadn’t sold. “From what I understand, the place has been listed with a reputable real estate company all this time.” There had been talk of an estate sale, but Lindsay didn’t know what had come of it.

      “Then it’s probably a good idea if we check it out,” Maddy said.

      Lindsay knew her uncle wouldn’t mind her taking a vacation, and her family would be pleased when she told them her plans. Despite herself, she wondered what Monte would think.

      She didn’t have long to wait.

      After four days, during which they’d pretended to ignore each other, Monte showed up at her office. Lindsay had known that eventually he would, and she’d been dreading the conversation all week. Again, her dread was mixed with an odd sense of longing.

      “You’re going where?” Monte demanded, obviously annoyed that he’d heard of her plans from someone else.

      By now Lindsay was nearly starved for the sight of him and focused her attention on a roguish curl that fell across his forehead.

      “On vacation,” she told him as she moved about the compact room. It would be impossible to sit at her desk and not give herself away. She wanted him to react to her news, and at the same time recognized that she shouldn’t.

      He closed the door and leaned against it. “Isn’t this a little extreme?”

      “What?” She glanced over her shoulder as she slid a file into the four-drawer cabinet.

      “I heard you and Maddy are driving across the country. Two women alone—it’s not safe, Lindsay. If you’re angry with me, fine. Be angry. But we both know you’ll get over it soon enough. I already have. We had an argument. We’ve had them in the past and probably will again. Let’s put it behind us and move on. But don’t do anything stupid.”

      “I am over it,” she assured him sweetly.

      “Lindsay …”

      “Our relationship is finished, Monte. I meant what I said.”

      “If that’s what you want, fine,” he responded, as if their relationship was of little importance to him. “Why don’t you wait till I can take some time off and I’ll go with you? This vacation with Maddy could be dangerous.”

      “We’re capable, confident women. But thank you for your concern.”

      He hesitated. Lindsay continued filing.

      “I really am sorry about Friday night.” His voice was gentle. “We were both upset.”

      “I’m not upset.” She turned her back on him and slipped an invoice into the appropriate file.

      “You know how I feel about you.”

      He did love her; in her heart of hearts she believed that. She would never have stayed with him this long otherwise. Seeing him now, so handsome, his expression so caring, she found it hard to think of her life without him. “Marry me, Monte,” she pleaded before she could stop herself.

      His eyes filled with regret.

      As soon as she’d said the words, she wanted to grab them back. She’d done it again, tried to change a situation that couldn’t be changed. Sorrow washed over her and she shook her head hopelessly.

      “You’re going without me?” he murmured.

      “Without you.” That was the only way she could think clearly. The only way she could teach her heart to forget him.

      “When are you leaving?” he asked in a resigned voice.

      “Saturday morning.”

      Monte buried his hands deep inside his pants pockets. “Two weeks?”

      She nodded.

      “Will you phone me? At least give me that much. Just a quick call so I’ll know you’re all right.”

      Lindsay shook her head again. “Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.” She couldn’t. Talking to him would be too painful, too risky.

      “I’ll miss you,” Monte said quietly. He hesitated before he turned and walked out the door.

      It was after ten once Gage Sinclair had parked the tractor and finished cleaning his equipment. He’d been in the field from dawn to dusk cutting alfalfa, and he was weary to the bone. Funny how a man could work until he was so damned tired he could fall into bed without removing his boots, yet still experience the exhilaration that comes with pride.

      As he walked toward the house, he saw his mother sitting on the porch, her fingers busy with her latest knitting project, probably another sweater for him. Generally she was in bed by this time, since she was up before dawn, feeding and caring for the animals and the garden. With the hottest part of summer almost upon them, it made sense to finish chores in the cool of the morning.

      He’d been looking for Kevin, but his younger brother—half brother, actually—was nowhere to be seen. It was too damn hot to be holed up inside the house, and he couldn’t hear the television or what teenagers called music these days.

      The boy was an object of frustration to Gage. In another few years, Kevin would be taking over the farm. Naturally Gage would be around to guide and advise him, but the land belonged to Kevin and he would have to assume his responsibilities.

      Gage had been fifteen when his mother remarried after ten years as a widow, and eighteen when the boy had been born. John Betts had died when Kevin was five, so Gage had been more father than