“At the moment the future doesn’t look all that promising for Buffalo Valley,” Ken said, surveying the bare land around them. It went without saying that if Value-X came to town, that would be the end of any talk about a feed store.

On the verge of leaving, Vaughn returned to the subject of their sister. “Have either of you seen Carrie?”

“She’s gone for the day,” Ken told him.

“All day?”

Chuck shrugged. “She’s over with our brother Tom and his family. Did you two have plans?”

“No.” How could he expect her to be at his beck and call? “I’ll talk to her later,” he said with reluctance. Their conversation had to take place soon. He’d rather this business with Natalie was over, but it now seemed that would require a protracted…discussion, for lack of a better word.

“She was upset when you dropped her off at the house after the play.” Ken frowned at him in an accusatory way, suggesting Vaughn had some explaining to do. “What happened? What did you do?”

“That’s Carrie’s and my business. Remember?”

Chuck agreed. “She’d have our heads if she knew we were talking to you about her. We’ll stay out of it, but like I said, you hurt her and you’ll have me to answer to.”

Vaughn nodded and resisted the urge to laugh. Melodramatic though they sounded, her brothers were serious.

“I heard you and your parents are spending Christmas Day with Hassie,” Ken said.

News sure traveled fast in a small town. “We’re coming for dinner.”

“Then I think we might be able to arrange something.” The two brothers exchanged another look.

“Arrange what?” Vaughn asked.

“Nothing much, just an opportunity for you to have some time alone with our sister.” Chuck and Ken left then, both of them grinning broadly.

Chapter 9

Hassie spent Christmas morning with Buffalo Bob, Merrily and little Bobby, upstairs at the 3 of a Kind. Sitting around the Christmas tree with the family reminded her of what it’d been like years ago, when Valerie and Vaughn were young. The good feelings started right then, and she suspected this would be her best Christmas in a very long while.

Bobby’s eyes got round as quarters when his father rolled out a shiny new miniature bicycle with training wheels. It amazed her that a three-year-old could actually ride a bicycle. In another three or four months, the park would be crowded with kids on bikes, enjoying the Dakota sunshine. When Hassie closed her eyes, she could almost hear the sound of their laughter. That would happen, she comforted herself, with or without Value-X.

She exchanged gifts with the family—magazine subscriptions for Bob and Merrily, a book of nursery rhymes for Bobby. Their gift to her was a new pair of lined leather gloves. After coffee and croissants—and hugs and kisses—she left.

Home again, Hassie set the dining-room table with her finest china. Not much reason to use it these days. Yet twice this week she’d had cause to bring it out of the old mahogany cabinet. The first time was her visit with Barbara and now Christmas dinner.

Already the kitchen counter was crowded with a variety of food. Carrie and her mother had thoughtfully dropped off a platter of decorated sugar cookies. Those cookies, plus the ones she’d collected the night of the exchange, added up to enough for the entire town.

Sarah Urlacher and Calla had given her a plate of homemade fudge. Maddy, Lindsay and several of the other women had stopped by with offerings, too—preserves and homemade bread and mincemeat tarts. It was far more than Hassie could eat in two or three Christmases.

Then word had leaked out about Vaughn Kyle and his parents coming for dinner. Before Hassie could stop them, her friends and neighbors had dropped off a plethora of side dishes. Joanie Wyatt sent over baked yams. Rachel Quantrill delivered a green-bean-and-cauliflower casserole. Soon all that was required of Hassie was the bird and dressing. The tantalizing aroma of baking turkey, sage and onions drifted through the house.

Living alone, Hassie didn’t bother much with meals. At night, after she closed the pharmacy, her dinner consisted of whatever was quick and easy. When Jerry had been alive and the children still lived at home, she’d been an accomplished cook. Now she considered cooking for one a nuisance. Many a night she dined on soup or a microwave entrée.

The doorbell chimed at exactly one o’clock, and Hassie, who’d been occupying herself with last-minute touches, was ready to receive her company.

“Merry Christmas,” Barbara Kyle sang out, hugging Hassie as soon as she opened the front door.

“Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.” Hassie hugged them all.

For the next few minutes the men made trips back and forth between the car and the house. They hauled in festively wrapped presents, plus various contributions to the meal, including three beautiful pies.

“How in heaven’s name are the four of us going to eat all these pies?” Hassie asked, giggling like a schoolgirl over such an embarrassment of riches. Pies, cookies, candies. Oh, my, she’d be on a diet till next June if she tasted everything in her kitchen.

“Pecan pie is Rick’s favorite,” Barbara explained.

“Pumpkin is mine,” Vaughn said.

“And fresh apple mixed with cranberry is mine,” Barbara said, setting down the third pie. She had to rearrange other dishes on the crowded counter to find room for it.

“Apple mixed with cranberry,” Hassie mused aloud. “That sounds delicious.”

“I’m willing to share,” Barbara said with a laugh.

The meal was even better than Hassie had dared hope. The turkey was moist and succulent, and the sage dressing was her finest ever, if she did say so herself. The four of them sat around the table and passed the serving dishes to one another. They talked and laughed as if each was part of Hassie’s family. Anyone seeing them would never have guessed there’d been a thirty-three-year lapse in their relationship.

This was the way Christmas was meant to be, Hassie thought, immersing herself in the good feelings. Barbara had always been a talker, and she effortlessly kept the conversation going. The years had changed Rick Kyle considerably, Hassie noted, smiling over at him. She doubted she would’ve recognized him now.

The last time Hassie had seen Rick, he’d had shoulder-length brown hair, a bushy mustache and narrow-rimmed glasses. A wooden peace sign had dangled from his neck. As she recalled, he’d worn the craziest color combinations with tie-dyed bell-bottom jeans and sandals.

His hair was mostly gone now, but Barbara claimed bald men could be exceedingly sexy. Hassie wouldn’t know about that, but it did her good to see that they were happy and obviously still in love.

Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she liked to believe that if her son had lived, Vaughn would’ve found the same happiness with Barbara.

“If I eat another bite, I swear someone might mistake me for a stuffed sausage,” Barbara declared, pushing back her chair.

“Me, too.” Rick wrapped his arms around his belly and groaned.

Hassie looked at Vaughn, who winked and said, “Could someone pass me the mashed potatoes and gravy?”

Laughing, Barbara hurled a roll at him from across the table. Vaughn deftly caught it. “Hey, I’m a growing boy.”

When they’d finished, the men cleared off the table and Hassie brewed a pot of coffee. They gathered in the living room around the small Christmas tree, where Hassie had tucked three small gifts, one for each of her guests. Shopping in Buffalo Valley was limited and there hadn’t been much time, so Hassie had found items with special meaning to share with her friends. Three little gifts she knew each would treasure.

For Barbara, it was a pearl pin Jerry had given her after Vaughn’s birth. For Rick it was a fountain pen—an antique. Choosing a gift for Vaughn had been difficult. In the end she’d parted with one of the medals the army had awarded her son for bravery. Since Vaughn had recently been in the military himself, she felt he’d appreciate what this medal represented.

They seemed truly touched by her gifts. Barbara’s eyes brimmed with tears and she pinned the pearl to her silk blouse. Rick, who didn’t appear to be the demonstrative sort, hugged her. And Vaughn seemed at a loss for words.

“I have something to tell you,” Vaughn said after several minutes of silence.

“This sounds serious.” Hassie saw the look Barbara and Rick exchanged and wondered at its meaning.

Vaughn leaned forward and took Hassie’s hands in both his own. “I told Mom and Dad earlier, and they urged me to be honest with you, as well. First, I want you to know I’d never deliberately do anything to hurt you.”

“I know that. Honest about what?”

“Value-X. When I left Seattle, I’d accepted a job with them.”

Hassie gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. This was almost more than she could take in. Vaughn an employee of Value-X?

“I knew the company was planning to expand into Buffalo Valley, but I didn’t understand the threat they represented to the community.”

“He isn’t working for them any longer,” Barbara quickly inserted.

“Since I wasn’t going to be officially an employee until after the first of the year, one of the vice presidents suggested I not mention my association with the company,” Vaughn explained. “It was never my intention to deceive you or anyone in Buffalo Valley.” He took a deep breath. “I faxed in my resignation and made it effective immediately.”

Hassie felt a little dizzy. It was hard enough to grasp what he was saying, and she could only imagine what Carrie must think, so she asked, “Does Carrie know?”

Vaughn nodded. “I told her the night of the play. I didn’t want to wait until after the holidays.”

“What did she say?” Hassie asked. She feared that the news might mean the end for this budding relationship, which would be a dreadful shame.

“I haven’t had a chance to speak to her since.”

Barbara moved forward to the edge of the sofa. “There’s more.”

Vaughn cast his mother a look that suggested he’d rather she hadn’t said anything.

“Tell me.” As far as Hassie was concerned, it was too late for secrets now.

Vaughn glanced at his mother again. “I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, because it’s much too soon.”

“Yes, yes, we know that,” Barbara interjected, then waited for him to continue.

Vaughn’s reluctance was evident. At last he said, “I’m investigating the possibility of opening a feed store here in town.”

For the second time in as many moments, Hassie gasped. Only this time, the shock was one of excitement and pleasure. “Oh, Vaughn, that’s an excellent idea. The town could use a feed store.”

Rick wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders, and both of them smiled broadly. “Vaughn spoke with two of the Hendrickson brothers about it yesterday morning,” Barbara said. “They actually suggested it.”

Hassie’s heart surged with hope. Vaughn was right of course; there was no reason to get carried away. But she couldn’t help it. The thought of having Vaughn right here in Buffalo Valley—she was almost afraid to believe it could happen.