Читать книгу Buffalo Valley - Debbie Macomber - Страница 7

H assie felt old and weary, especially after a day like this. But God had rewarded her patience by sending Vaughn Kyle to Buffalo Valley. Seeing him, however briefly, had lifted her spirits. Best of all was his promise to return on Sunday afternoon.

Tired though she was, Hassie brewed herself a cup of tea and sat at her kitchen table, mulling over the events of the day. Ambrose Kohn had been a thorn in her side for many years. His family had lived and worked in town for generations, but with impeccable timing, the Kohns had moved to Devils Lake just before the economy in Buffalo Valley collapsed.

Ambrose owned several pieces of property here and a building or two. The theater belonged to him, and he’d been quick enough to close it down, despite the town council’s efforts to convince him otherwise. The old building still had plenty of life in it, but it’d sat abandoned and neglected until the first year Lindsay Snyder came to Buffalo Valley as the high-school teacher. She’d wanted to use it for a Christmas play. If Hassie remembered correctly, Ambrose had demanded she go out with him first before he gave permission. That annoyed Hassie even now, several years later.

Lindsay had attended some social function with Ambrose, and it had nearly ruined her relationship with Gage Sinclair. But she and Gage had resolved their differences.They’d been married for more than five years now and were parents of two beautiful daughters.

Ambrose, despite his underhanded methods, had walked away a winner, as well. After the community had cleaned up that old theater and put on the high-school Christmas program, he’d reopened the movie house and it’d been in operation ever since.

Unfortunately Ambrose hadn’t learned anything from that experience. He hadn’t learned that people in Buffalo Valley loved their town and that they supported one another. He hadn’t figured out that for them, Buffalo Valley was home , not just a place to live. Now the middle-aged bachelor held the fate of the community in his hands. Value-X, a huge retailer, wanted to move into town and they wanted to set up shop on land owned by Ambrose. The company had a reputation for sweeping into small towns and then systematically destroying independent and family-owned businesses. Six months earlier, Hassie had watched a television report on the effect the mega-retailer had on communities. At the time she’d never dreamed Buffalo Valley might be targeted. Naturally the company insisted this was progress and a boon to the town’s economy. There were already articles in some of the regional papers, touting the company’s supposedly civic-minded attitudes. Profit-minded was more like it.

No one needed to tell Hassie what would happen to Buffalo Valley if Value-X decided to follow through with its plans. All the small businesses that had recently started would die a fast and painful death. Her own pharmacy wouldn’t be immune.

Ambrose owned twenty acres just outside of town; this was the property Value-X was interested in acquiring, and he wasn’t opposed to selling it—no matter how badly it damaged the community.

Nothing Hassie said had the least bit of impact on him. Buffalo Bob, as president of the town council, had tried to reason with him, too, again without success. Heath Quantrill had thrown up his hands in frustration at the man’s stubborn refusal to listen.

While Ambrose didn’t live in Buffalo Valley, he did have a powerful influence on its future. For that reason alone, he should think carefully about his decision to sell that parcel of land. Progress or not, it wasn’t the kind of future she or anyone here saw for Buffalo Valley. Jerry, her husband, might have been able to talk sense into Ambrose, but Jerry had died the year after Vaughn. She’d lost them both so close together.

The TV report on Value-X had made a strong impression on Hassie. What had stayed in her mind most clearly were the interviews with business owners, some with three- and four-generation histories. They’d been forced to close down, unable to compete. Local traditions had been lost, pride broken. Men and women wept openly, in despair and hopelessness. Downtown areas died out.

Hassie couldn’t bear to think what would happen to Buffalo Valley if Ambrose sold that land to those outsiders. Why, it would undo all the work the town council had done over the past six years. The outcome was too dismal to consider.

Joanie Wyatt’s video-rental and craft store would probably be one of the first to fold. And the Hendricksons—they’d sunk everything they had in this world and more into AceMan Hardware. Value-X would undercut the lowest prices they could charge and ring the store’s death knell for sure.

Dennis Urlacher supplied car parts to the community at his filling station. Although that was only a small portion of his business, Dennis had once mentioned that his largest profit margin came from the auto parts and not the fuel. It wouldn’t be long before his business was affected, too. Even Rachel Quantrill’s new hamburger stand would lose customers. Maddy’s Grocery would suffer, too; how long she’d be able to hold on depended on Value-X’s plans. It was said that many of the newer stores included groceries.

None of that concerned Ambrose. All he knew was that he’d been offered a fair price for a piece of land that had sat vacant for years. He’d let it be known that he fully intended to sell those acres. If anyone else was interested, he’d entertain other offers. Ambrose had made one thing perfectly clear: the offer had to be substantially higher than the deal Value-X had proposed. No one in town, not even Heath Quantrill, had a thick-enough bankroll to get into a bidding war with the huge retailer.

Hassie sipped her tea and purposely turned her thoughts in a more pleasant direction. What a fine-looking young man Vaughn Kyle was. After all these years, she was grateful to finally meet him. His letters had meant so much to her, and she’d saved each thank-you note from the time he was six years old.

For a short while after her son was buried, Hassie and Barbara, the boy’s mother, had been close. They’d stayed in touch, but then a year later the wedding announcement arrived. Barbara, the beautiful young woman her son had loved, was marrying Rick Kyle, who’d been one of Vaughn’s best friends.

Hassie didn’t begrudge the couple happiness, but she hadn’t attended the wedding. Their marriage was a painful reminder that life continues. If circumstances had been different, this might have been her own son’s wedding.

Two years later, Rick and Barbara had mailed her the birth announcement. They’d named their first child after Hassie’s son. Two years later came another birth announcement, this time for a girl they named Gloria. Sight unseen, Hassie had loved that boy and thought of him as the grandson Vaughn could never give her. Her own daughter, Valerie, had two girls and Hassie adored them, but since Val and her family lived in Hawaii, there was little opportunity to see them. Vaughn Kyle had assumed a special significance for her. Neither his parents nor anyone else knew how deep her feelings ran. With a determined effort, she’d remained on the sidelines of his life, writing occasional letters and sending gifts at the appropriate times.

Now she would have the opportunity to give Vaughn the things she’d set aside for him so many years ago. It’d been her prayer that they meet before she died.

She had to stop herself from being greedy. She would gladly accept whatever time Vaughn Kyle was willing to grant her.

Carrie found herself smiling as she walked into the family home shortly after six. She paused in the entry way to remove the handknit scarf from around her neck and shrug out of her coat. Softly humming a Christmas tune, she savored the warm feelings left by her visit with Vaughn. She’d enjoyed getting to know him. Even though it’d been years since she’d spent this much time in a man’s company, the initial awkwardness between them had dissipated quickly.

Vaughn seemed genuinely interested in learning what he could about Hassie and Buffalo Valley. What she appreciated most was that he hadn’t asked any prying questions about her divorce. A lot of people assumed she wanted to tell her side of it, but Carrie found no joy in reliving the most painful, humiliating experience of her life.

Their dinner conversation had flowed smoothly. He was easy to talk to, and Carrie loved telling him about Buffalo Valley. She was proud to recount its history, especially the developments of the past five years. The improvements could be attributed to several factors, but almost all of them went right back to Hassie Knight and her determination and optimism. Hassie refused to let the town fade into nothingness, refused to let it die like countless other communities throughout the Dakotas.

When Carrie walked into the living room, her mother glanced up from her needlework and her two younger brothers hurried in from the kitchen. All three fixed their eyes on her. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to speak.

“What?” Carrie demanded.

“We’re curious about your dinner date,” her mother said mildly.

Carrie should’ve realized her family would hear she’d gone out with Vaughn. How they knew she could only speculate, but in a small town word traveled even faster than it did on the Internet.

“How’d it go?” Ken asked, looking as though he’d welcome the opportunity to defend her honor should the occasion arise.

Part of the pain of her divorce came from knowing that she was the first in their family’s history to whom it had happened. Long-standing marriages were a tradition she would gladly have continued. But she couldn’t stay married to a man who didn’t honor his vows, a man whose unfaithfulness undermined her self-respect, as well as their marriage. Her four brothers had hinted that things with Alec would have worked out differently if they’d been around to see to it. Needless to say, the last thing she wanted was her brothers, much as she loved them, playing the role of enforcers.

“He’s very nice,” she said, carefully weighing her words. She didn’t want to give the impression that there was more to their meeting than a simple, friendly dinner.

“He didn’t try anything, did he?” Chuck asked.

Carrie nearly laughed out loud. “Of course he didn’t. Where’s Dad?” she asked, wondering why her father hadn’t leaped into the conversation.

Before anyone could respond, her father shuffled into the room, wearing his old slippers, a newspaper tucked under his arm and his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He stopped abruptly when he saw her.

“So how was your hot date?” he asked. He stood in front of his easy chair and waited for her to answer.

“It was just dinner,” she protested. “The only reason he asked me out was to kill time while he waited for Hassie.” It was unlikely they’d be doing this again, which she supposed was just as well. She had to admit she wanted to, but from what he’d said, he was only in the area for the Christmas holidays and then he was going home to Seattle. There was no point in starting something you couldn’t finish, she thought. Not that she knew if he was even interested in her…or available.

“Will you be seeing him again?” her mother asked, but Carrie wasn’t fooled by her nonchalant tone.

“He’s coming back Sunday afternoon to—”

“That’s great.” Her mother smiled, clearly pleased.

“He isn’t returning to see me .” It was important her family understand that she had nothing to do with his decision. The sole reason for his visit was to spend time with Hassie.

“That’s a shame.” Her father claimed his chair, turning automatically to the sports page.

“Did you invite him to the tree-lighting ceremony?” Ken asked.

Her father lowered the newspaper and her mother paused in the middle of a stitch to await her response.

“No,” Carrie admitted reluctantly. She’d thought of mentioning it, but couldn’t see the purpose. She glanced around the room, looking at each hopeful face.

What she didn’t say was that she would’ve welcomed the opportunity to know Vaughn Kyle better. The few hours she’d spent with him had helped her realize that her heart was still capable of response, that it hadn’t shriveled up inside her like an orange left too long in the fruit bowl.

For that she was grateful.

As Vaughn pulled the rental car into the long driveway that led to his parents’ home, he saw that his mother had turned on the back porch light. It wasn’t really necessary, since the outside of the entire house was decorated with Christmas lights.

He knew his mother had made tentative plans for a dinner with friends on Sunday afternoon and might not be pleased by his absence. However, Vaughn didn’t mind returning to Buffalo Valley. He’d enjoyed meeting Carrie and learning some of the town’s recent history. He’d report this information to Natalie; she might find it useful. Carrie Hendrickson was an interesting contrast to the women he’d met and dated in Seattle during the past few years—including Natalie, his sort-of fiancée. Carrie had shied away from talking about herself, which was a refreshing change from what he’d grown accustomed to hearing. A recent dinner date with Natalie had been spent discussing every aspect of her career and the Value-X corporation—as if their work was all they had to talk about. He’d come away with a letdown feeling, feeling, somehow, that he’d missed out on something important…only he didn’t know quite what. After all, he admired Natalie’s drive and ambition and her unemotional approach to life.

His mother was finishing the dinner dishes when he entered the kitchen. “How was your visit?” she asked, rinsing a pan before setting it on the drainboard.

“Wonderful.”

“How’s Hassie?” she asked, looking expectantly at him as she reached for the towel to dry her hands. “You did give her my love, didn’t you?”

“She was exhausted.” He explained that the pharmacist had been at a meeting when he arrived and that her assistant had convinced him to wait until she got back. Neither she nor Carrie had mentioned the reason for the meeting, but whatever it was had drained her, emotionally and physically.

His mother’s brow furrowed with concern. “She’s not ill, is she?”

“I don’t think so, but I didn’t want to tire her out any more than she already was, so I told her I’d be back on Sunday.”

His mother’s face clouded and he knew what was coming. The subject of Vaughn Knight always distressed her. Every time his name was brought up, she grew quiet. He suspected she’d postponed a promised visit to Hassie because, for whatever reason, she found it hard to talk about Vaughn. More than once he’d seen tears fill her eyes. His mother wasn’t the only one; his father also tended to avoid conversations about Hassie’s son. All Vaughn knew was that both his parents thought a great deal of the friend who’d lost his life in a rice paddy thirty-three years earlier. So much that it still caused them pain.

“I’m glad you’re doing this,” she said. “Over the years I’ve wanted to talk about Vaughn, but I get choked up whenever time I try.”

She grabbed a bottle of hand lotion and occupied herself with that for a few moments, but Vaughn wasn’t fooled. She didn’t want him to see that her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Hassie will do a far better job of telling you about Vaughn than your father or I could.”

Impulsively Vaughn hugged his mother, then joined his father, who was watching television in the living room.

On Sunday the drive into Buffalo Valley seemed to go faster than it had on Friday. He knew exactly where he needed to go, and the very landscape he’d found monotonous two days earlier now seemed familiar, even welcoming.

When he pulled into town, Buffalo Bob was spreading salt on the sidewalk in front of his own place and the businesses on either side. He waved, and Vaughn returned the gesture, then eased into a parking spot near the pharmacy. Once again he was struck by what an appealing town Buffalo Valley was. It felt as though he’d stepped back in time, to an era when family and a sense of community were priorities, when neighbor helped neighbor and people felt responsible for one another.

A sign on the door stated that the drugstore was open from noon until five on Sundays during December. When he walked inside, Vaughn found Hassie behind the counter. He automatically looked for Carrie and wasn’t disappointed when he saw her over by the cash register, checking receipts. She paused in her task as soon as she saw him.

To his surprise, his mind had drifted toward her a number of times since Friday. He was attracted by her charm, which was real and uncontrived. She was genuine and warm, and he liked the pride in her eyes when she talked about her town.

She froze, as if she, too, had been thinking of him. That was a pleasant thought and one that sent a shiver of guilt through him. He was as good as engaged to Natalie, and the last thing he should be doing was flirting with another woman.

“Right on time,” Hassie said, sounding much livelier this afternoon than she had two days earlier.

“I’m rarely tardy when I have a date with a beautiful woman,” he teased, and watched both Hassie and Carrie smile. He generally didn’t have much use for flattery, but occasionally it served a purpose. In this case, his rather silly statement had given everyone, including him, a moment of pleasure.

“You going to be all right here by yourself?” She turned to Carrie.

“Of course. You two go and visit, and don’t you worry about a thing.”

“I’ll just get my coat,” Hassie said, and disappeared to retrieve it. While she was gone, he had a few minutes with Carrie.

“I’m glad you’re doing this for Hassie,” she said. “It means so much to her to be sharing her son’s life with you.”

“I’m not doing it out of any sense of charity.” Vaughn was truly interested in learning what he could about his namesake.

Hassie returned, wearing a long, dark coat, and they walked over to her house, which was one street off Main. Vaughn slowed his gait to match hers, tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow. Together they strolled leisurely down the newly shoveled sidewalk.

The house resembled something out of a 1950s movie. The furniture was large and bulky, covered in thick navy-blue fabric. Doilies decorated the back of the chair, and three were strategically placed across the back of the matching sofa. Even the television set was an old-fashioned floor model.

“It’ll only take me a minute to make tea,” Hassie announced heading toward the kitchen. He was given instructions to sit down and to look through the photo albums she’d already laid out.

Vaughn opened the biggest album. The first photograph he saw was a black-and-white version of a much younger Hassie standing with a baby cradled in her arms. A tall, handsome man stood awkwardly beside her, grinning self-consciously. His hand was on the shoulder of a little girl about four or five who stood in front of them, her dark brown hair in long braids.

Thereafter, photograph after photograph documented the life of Vaughn Knight. He was in Boy Scouts and active in his church. His school pictures showed increasing growth and maturity. When he reached high school, Vaughn had grown tall and athletic; a series of newspaper articles detailed his success on the basketball court and the football field. The year he was a senior, Buffalo Valley High School won the state football championship, with Vaughn Knight as the star quarterback. Another article named him Most Valuable Player.

His high-school graduation picture revealed the face of a young man eager to explore the world.

Hassie rejoined him, carrying a tray with a ceramic pot and two matching cups, as well as a plate of small cookies.

Vaughn stood and took the tray from her, placing it on the coffee table, and waited while she poured. He noticed that her hands were unsteady, but he didn’t interrupt or try to assist her.

When she’d finished, she picked up a round, plain hatbox and removed the lid. “The top letter is the first one that mentions your mother.”

Vaughn reached for the envelope.

September 30, 1966

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m in love. Don’t laugh when you read this. Rick and I went to a hootenanny last night and there was this terrific girl there. Her name’s Barbara Lowell, and guess what? She’s from Grand Forks. She’s got long blond hair and the most incredible smile you’ve ever seen. After the hootenanny we drank coffee and talked for hours. I’ve never felt like this about any other girl. She’s smart and funny and so beautiful I had a hard time not staring at her. Even after I left her, I was so wrapped up in meeting her I couldn’t sleep. First thing this morning, I called her and we talked for two hours. Rick is thoroughly disgusted with me and I don’t blame him, but I’ve never been in love before.

As soon as I can, I want to bring her home for you to meet. You’ll understand why I feel the way I do once you see her for yourselves.

Love,

Vaughn

“The Rick he’s writing about is my dad?” Vaughn asked.

Hassie nodded. “Here’s another one you might find interesting.” She lifted a batch of letters from the box.

It was apparent from the way she sorted through the dates that she’d reread each letter countless times.

July 16, 1967

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’ve made my decision, but I have to tell you it was probably the most difficult I’ve ever had to make. I love Barb, and both of us want to get married right away. If I were thinking just of me, that’s exactly what we’d do before I ship out. But I’m following your example, Dad. You and Mom waited until after the war to marry, and you came back safe and whole. I will, too.

Barb cried when I told her I felt it was best to delay the wedding until after my tour. Although you never advised me one way or the other, I had the feeling you thought it was better this way.

Vaughn stopped reading. “Did you want him to wait before marrying my mother?”

Hassie closed her eyes. “His father and I thought they were both too young. In the years that followed, I lived to regret that. Perhaps if Vaughn had married your mother, there might have been a grandchild. I realize that’s terribly selfish, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“I always wondered if Jerry would’ve lived longer if we’d had grandchildren. Valerie was still in college at the time and wasn’t married yet. A few years after that, she moved to Hawaii to take a job and met her husband there, but by then it was too late for Jerry.”

“So your husband took the news of Vaughn’s death very hard?”

“Once we received word about Vaughn, my husband was never the same. He was close to both children, but the shock of Vaughn’s death somehow made him lose his emotional balance. Much as he loved Valerie and me, he couldn’t get over the loss of his son. He went into a deep depression and started having heart problems. A year later, he died, too.”

“Heart attack?”

“Technically, yes, but Vaughn’s death is what really killed him, despite what that death certificate said. He simply gave up caring about anything. I wish…” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” Vaughn said, and meant it.

“Don’t be.” She patted his hand. “God knew better. Had your mother and my son married, you would never have been born.”

It must have hit her hard that her son’s fiancée and closest friend married each other within a year of his death. “Were you upset when my parents got married?” he asked.

“A little in the beginning, but then I realized that was exactly what Vaughn would have wanted. He did love her, and I know in my heart of hearts that she loved him, too.”

“She did.” Vaughn could say that without hesitation.

Hassie plucked a tissue from the nearby box and dabbed at her eyes. “I’d like you to have this.” She reached for a second box and withdrew a heavy felt crest displaying the letters BVHS. It took Vaughn a moment to recognize that it was from a letterman’s jacket.

“Vaughn was very proud of this. He earned it in wrestling. He was a natural at most sports. Basketball and football were barely a challenge, but that wasn’t the case with wrestling. Many an afternoon he’d walk into the pharmacy and announce to his father and me that he was quitting. By dinnertime he’d change his mind and then he’d go back the next day.” She paused, dabbing at her eyes again. “Our children were the very best of Jerry and me. Vaughn was a good son, and losing him changed all of us forever.”

“I’d be honored to have this letter,” Vaughn said.

“Thank you,” Hassie whispered. She smiled faintly through her tears. “You must think me an old fool.”

“No,” he was quick to tell her. “I’m very glad you showed me all this.” For the first time Vaughn Knight was more than a name, someone remembered who’d been lost in a war fought half a world away. He was alive in the words of his letters, in the photographs and in the heart of his mother.

“His letters from Vietnam are in this box,” Hassie said. “They’ll give you a feel for what it was like. If you’re interested…”

Having served in the military, Vaughn was, of course, interested. He sat back and read the first letter. When he’d finally finished them all, it’d grown dark and Hassie was busy in the kitchen.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s after six.”

“No.” He found that hard to believe. “I had no idea I’d kept you this long. I apologize, Hassie. You should have stopped me.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t. Your interest was a pleasure to me. Everything was fine with the store—Carrie’s fully capable of handling anything that might come up. Besides, we’re closed now.”

“He could’ve been a writer, your son,” Vaughn said, setting aside the last letter. For a few hours he’d been completely drawn into Vaughn Knight’s descriptions of people and landscapes and events. Although the details were lightly sketched, a vivid picture of the young soldier’s life had revealed itself through his words.

“I often thought that myself,” Hassie agreed. After a brief silence she said, “I didn’t want to interrupt you to ask about dinner. I hope it wasn’t overly presumptuous to assume you’d join me.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Hassie nodded once, slowly, as if she considered his company of great worth.

While she put the finishing touches on the meal, Vaughn phoned his parents to tell them he’d be later than anticipated. “Be sure and give Hassie my love,” his mother instructed. “Tell her your father and I plan to visit her soon.”