Free Dakota Born by Debbie Macomber Page B

late one afternoon, two weeks after Lindsay’s visit. His day had been spent doing the second summer cutting of alfalfa. He smelled of grass and sweat and was hungrier than a bear in spring.
    â€œYou remember meeting her, don’t you?” his mother said, excitedly.
    â€œThere were two women in Hassie’s that Saturday,” he commented as he poured himself a glass of iced tea. He remembered, all right. And he knew without his mother’s telling him that it was Lindsay who was coming back.
    For two weeks now, the woman had been on his mind, crowding into his thoughts when she was least welcome. In the time since her visit, he’d thought of her far too much, and he didn’t like it. He distrusted the feeling that had come after their brief introduction. It was too close to hope.
    Gage didn’t want to feel anything for her. He couldn’t afford to feel anything—not for a city woman who’d be leaving after a year.
    A darkening mass of clouds gathered on his horizon, a sure sign a storm was brewing. Only this storm was of his own making, and Gage wasn’t going to let himself get caught in it.
    â€œThe Snyder granddaughter’s the one who’s coming back,” Leta told him.
    He nodded. “I can’t imagine why she agreed to teach here,” he said casually.
    â€œShe’s got roots in Buffalo Valley. You remember Anton and Gina Snyder, don’t you?”
    Gage nodded again. Anton Snyder had sold his farm before the bottom fell out. He’d lived in an era when it was possible to make a decent living off the land. In the thirty years since the Snyders had sold, the reality of farming had changed.
    â€œAren’t you going to say anything?” his mother asked.
    Gage drank half the glass of tea in huge gulps.
    â€œWell?”
    â€œShe won’t last.” He said it because he needed to hear it, needed to remind himself that he shouldn’t put any stock in her coming. Or her going.
    â€œDon’t be such a pessimist.”
    â€œShe won’t last,” he said again. “Mark my words.” Lindsay Snyder had been born and raised in the South. One month of a Dakota winter, and this magnolia blossom would hightail it back to Savannah faster than he could spell blizzard.
    â€œI don’t care what you say,” his mother chided, “we’re lucky to get her.”
    If it was luck that had brought Lindsay Snyder to Buffalo Valley, then it was bad luck and he wanted no part of it. He didn’t know her, had barely even seen her, and he was already attracted to her. Attracted—to a woman who wasn’t going to stay.
    Kevin stormed into the kitchen, the screen door slamming in his wake. “Calla said we got a teacher. Is it true?” His excitement rang through the room.
    â€œHassie phoned with the news,” Leta said. “Didn’t I tell you we’d find a teacher? Didn’t I?”
    Kevin nodded as if he, too, had shared their mother’s faith from the first. The boy was all legs and arms yet, as tall as Gage and fifty pounds lighter. Gage had looked much the same at seventeen, but had filled out over time. A stint in the Army after graduation had helped firm his muscles, and given him the confidence to tackle the world. After two years at an agricultural college, he’d come home and farmed with his stepfather, intending to buy his own section of land, but then John had collapsed with a heart attack one July morning. He was dead ten minutes later, despite Gage’s frantic efforts to revive him.
    â€œA bunch of us kids are going over to clean up the school.” Kevin looked toward Gage. “We’re gonna need help.”
    The implication was clear. Kevin wanted Gage to volunteer his services.
    â€œEveryone’s doing something,” Leta put in.
    Gage ignored the dig. “Where’s the new teacher going to live?” He avoided saying her name because he found he liked the