Debbie Macomber - Not Just For Christmas

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 entryway 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.