Not Just For Christmas. Debbie Macomber

      “This is the success story of the decade,” Carrie boasted as she motioned to the holiday quilt displayed in the first set of windows. “Sarah Urlacher started the business in her father’s house, dyeing the muslin herself from all-natural products. The designs are her own, too.”

      Vaughn stopped to look at the quilt in the window.

      “It all began when Lindsay Sinclair introduced Sarah’s quilts to her uncle. He owns an upscale furniture store in Atlanta, and before she knew it, Sarah had trouble keeping up with the demand. Now people all over the country buy her quilts.”

      “That’s great.”

      “Sarah’s business has boosted the economy of Buffalo Valley to the point that we can now afford things that are commonplace in other towns.”

      “Such as?”

      “The sidewalks got refurbished last summer, and the town could never have paid for that without the tax revenue Sarah’s business brings in.” Carrie didn’t mention the new community well and several other improvements that had taken place over the past few years.

      “I’ll let Leta know where we are so she can tell Hassie,” Carrie said, and made a quick stop at the pharmacy. She was back within moments. Vaughn waited for her outside.

      There was no one at the restaurant or in the bar when they arrived. Studying Buffalo Bob with fresh eyes, Carrie could only guess what Vaughn must think. The ex-biker was a burly man. He was an oddity here in a town where most men came off the farm. With his thinning hair drawn back into a ponytail and his muscular arms covered in tattoos, he looked as though he’d be more comfortable with a biker gang than waiting tables.

      “How ya doin’, Carrie?” he greeted her when she took a seat across the table from Vaughn.

      “Good, Bob. Come meet Vaughn Kyle.”

      “Welcome to Buffalo Valley,” Bob said, extending his hand for a hearty shake. “Merrily told me you’d dropped by.” Bob gave them each a menu. “Take a look, but the special tonight is Salisbury steak. I don’t mind telling you it’s excellent.” He grinned. “And who would know better than me?”

      “I’m convinced,” Vaughn told him with an answering smile. “I’ll have the special.”

      “Me, too,” Carrie said, returning the menu.

      Bob left them, and Carrie tried to relax but found it difficult. She hadn’t been alone with a man, other than her brothers, in a very long time. Following her divorce, she’d only dated twice, and both occasions had been awkward. Her schooling, plus her internship, didn’t leave much room for a social life, anyway.

      Vaughn sat back in his chair. “Tell me about Hassie,” he suggested easily.

      Carrie felt the tightness leave her shoulders. On the subject of Hassie, she could talk his ear off. “What would you like to know first?”

      “Whatever you feel is important.”

      “She’s been my hero for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what would’ve happened to this town without her.” Carrie wanted him to realize how deeply Hassie was loved by everyone in Buffalo Valley. “She’s older now, and she’s slowing down some.” Carrie had seen the evidence of that in the months since she’d come to work as an intern. She almost suspected that Hassie had been holding on until she got there.

      Vaughn glanced at Buffalo Bob as he brought their salads and nodded his thanks. “Every year, along with my birthday card and a U.S. Savings Bond, she wrote me a short message.” His mouth lifted in a half smile. “She called it words to live by.”

      “Give me an example,” Carrie said, curious.

      “I don’t remember them all, but … okay, she told me about the importance of being on time. Only, she did it by making up this little poem. …” He hesitated and a slow grin crossed his face. “She once wrote that if at first I don’t succeed, it just means I’m normal.”

      “That sounds like Hassie.”

      “She has a wonderful way of putting things.” He paused, a reflective look on his face. “When I was sixteen, she told me the grass isn’t greener on the other side of the fence, it’s greener where it’s watered.”

      “I think it’s wonderful that you remembered them.”

      “How could I not, when she made them so much fun? She was like an extra grandmother.”

      Hearing that warmed Carrie’s heart, because she knew Hassie felt toward him the way she would a grandson.

      They were silent as they ate their salads. Buffalo Bob had made even a plain lettuce, cucumber and tomato salad taste delicious with the addition of a tart-sweet cranberry dressing. They were just finishing when Bob reappeared, carrying two plates heaped with food. He placed them in front of Vaughn and Carrie, then stepped back, and said, “Enjoy.”

      Vaughn stared after him as he returned to the kitchen. “He’s not the typical sort of person you find in a place like this, is he?”

      “Bob’s a sweetheart,” she said defensively. “He’s hardworking and well-liked and a wonderful father and—”

      “Tell me how he happened to land in Buffalo Valley,” Vaughn broke in. He reached for his fork, tasting the fluffy mashed potatoes and tender gravy-covered steak.

      “He came here when the town was at its lowest point. My uncle Earl owned this hotel and he’d been trying to sell it for years. Seeing that there weren’t any buyers and he was losing money every month, my uncle devised an unusual poker game. It cost a thousand dollars to play, but the winner walked away with the hotel, restaurant and bar. Lock, stock and barrel.”

      Vaughn’s brows arched. “And Bob won it with three of a kind.”

      “Exactly.”

      Vaughn shook his head. “More power to him.”

      “A lot has changed since then, all of it for the better. Bob married Merrily, and two and a half years ago, they had little Bobby.”

      “The one who’s prone to ear infections?”

      She nodded. “You’ve never seen better parents. Those two dote on that little boy something fierce. In fact, Bob and Merrily are terrific with all the kids in town.” Carrie paused long enough to sample her dinner. “Hey, this is terrific.”

      Vaughn agreed with her. “In addition to his other talents, Buffalo Bob’s a good cook. He wasn’t kidding about that.”

      “I don’t know what his life was like before he came to Buffalo Valley, but he’s one of us now.”

      Vaughn was about to ask a question when the door opened and Hassie hurried inside.

      Carrie was instantly on her feet. One look told her Hassie was exhausted. Her shoulders were slumped and she seemed close to collapse.

      “Hassie,” Carrie said, wrapping her arm protectively around the older woman’s waist. “This is Vaughn Kyle.”

      It was almost as if Hassie didn’t hear her at first. “Vaughn,” she repeated, and then her face brightened visibly. “My goodness, did you let me know you were coming and it slipped my mind?”

      Vaughn pulled out a chair for her to sit down. “No, I very rudely showed up without an invitation.”

      “I wish I’d known.”

      “It’s no problem. Carrie was kind enough to spend the afternoon with me.”

      “Let me take a good look at you,” Hassie said. She cupped his face with both hands and a smile emerged. “You’re so handsome,” she whispered. “You have such kind eyes.”

      If her praise embarrassed or flustered him, Vaughn didn’t reveal it.

      “How long