A chill raced down Troy's spine. Shortly before they were married, Sandy had gone through a brief spell during which her eyes had given her trouble. The symptoms had disappeared and they'd both attributed it to stress. Only later did they learn that problems like double vision could be an early sign of the disease. Of course, that'd been nearly forty years ago, when much less was known about multiple sclerosis or its treatment.

"We'll get through this," Troy a.s.sured his daughter. "We will," he said fervently. "You and Craig and I."

She looked up at him with anxious eyes, and he could see how much she wanted to believe him.

Troy wanted to believe it, too.

Before Megan left, they hugged for a long time. Later he noticed that his shirt was damp with her tears.

The possibility-no matter how slight-of Megan's having MS meant that his daughter needed him, and he had to be there for her, the same way he'd been there for Sandy. It meant Troy would have to make changes in his life, and the biggest change involved his relationship with Faith.

Alone in his office he gazed, unseeing, out the window for an hour, trying to make sense of what was happening. He was in shock, and yet he felt that his thinking was completely clear. Before he could back down, he reached for his cell phone.

Faith answered right away. "Troy! What a pleasant surprise." Generally, he didn't call in the middle of the day.

Her joy was like a knife piercing his heart. "h.e.l.lo, Faith." Closing his eyes, Troy could hardly force himself to speak. "I won't be able to see you tonight," he finally said.

"Oh, Troy, I'm sorry to hear that." Her disappointment made his own that much sharper. But any relationship with him would be filled with broken dates and frustration. Megan had to be his priority. Being sheriff made constant demands on his time, as well. It wasn't fair to expect Faith to wait in the background or to settle for the occasional stolen minutes he could offer.

"I'm sorry, too," he mumbled.

"I know you'd never cancel a date for any frivolous reason."

He didn't respond.

"I guess I'll have to tell you my news over the phone," she said, "instead of waiting for this evening."

She remained irritatingly cheerful. "What news?" he asked.

"I would've said something sooner, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I sold my house!"

This was the last thing Troy wanted to hear. "Oh," he said flatly. He had no idea how he'd cope with seeing Faith in town-on the streets, in the stores, everywhere.

If she heard the reluctance in his voice, Faith ignored it. "I should've done this before now. It was ridiculous to live in such a huge place all by myself."

Troy said nothing.

"My son's thrilled," she went on to tell him. "Scottie's looking for a house for me. At least you and I won't be spending all our time on the road now," she added with a laugh.

"Faith, listen, I've been doing some thinking, and I've decided it might not be wise to continue seeing each other." How he managed to get the words out, he didn't know. His heart screamed that he should stop. That he should withdraw the words, pretend he'd never said them.

He couldn't.

Bracing his hand against his forehead, he leaned his elbow on the desk.

A short pause followed his announcement.

"Have I done something to upset you?" Faith asked softly. If her joy had irritated him earlier, her pain left him raw.

"No."

"Then can I ask why you've made this decision?"

He thought about that, too, and how unjust he was being. "No."

She took a moment to absorb his remark. "I'm not a teenage girl anymore, Troy. Our relationship went wrong all those years ago through no fault of ours. I don't want it to happen again. Now, please tell me what's wrong. I deserve to know that much."

She did, and he had to tell her. "It's Megan."

"Your daughter..."

"My daughter might have MS."

Faith gasped. "Oh, Troy. I'm so sorry."

"I've never told her about you and I can't now."

"No, I don't suppose you can," she agreed sadly.

"When you move to Cedar Cove..." He couldn't ask her not to move because it wasn't his right to do so. But at the same time, seeing her around town would be agony.

"I've already made that decision, Troy. You were one reason, but there are others, including my son and his family."

"Of course." He closed his eyes in an effort to control his feelings. He loved Faith. He'd loved her while they were in high school and he loved her now. Whether she lived in Seattle or Cedar Cove didn't matter. His love for her wasn't going to change.

"It might be best if you started seeing someone else," he said, disregarding the pain it caused him to say that.

Her lack of response filled him with dread. After a minute she said, "Is that what you want, Troy? Do you really want me to see another man?"

"It might be best," he repeated.

"I don't think so, but I understand why you feel that way."

"I'm sorry, Faith. I wish this had worked out for us, but it's not going to happen."

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered. "I'll be praying for you and your daughter."

"Thank you."

He thought he heard her swallow a sob. "Goodbye, then."

"Goodbye, Faith."

Forty.

Linnette had been working for Buffalo Bob nearly two months now, and she had to admit she'd grown attached to this town called Buffalo Valley. The people were open and friendly, yet they respected her privacy and never asked questions she didn't want to answer. With one exception.

Pete Mason.

He'd taken to dropping by 3 of a Kind for meals as often as two or three times a week-which wouldn't bother her if all he did was eat. Oh, no, whenever he came to the restaurant, he made some remark or other about the things she'd blurted out after the tornado. In fact, he didn't even seem to know he was embarra.s.sing her with his rude comments.

Once, he'd actually brought her popcorn from the town's lone theater. The stuff dripped with so much melted b.u.t.ter that it leaked through the bag. He'd presented it to her in front of half a dozen patrons, bowing low and making a spectacle of himself and consequently of her. All because she'd casually mentioned one day that she liked popcorn.

Okay, Linnette was willing to confess that she ate the popcorn later-alone in her room.

"Pete likes you," Merrily told her early on Sat.u.r.day afternoon.

"I doubt it." This was a discussion Linnette didn't want to have. If Pete Mason was the slightest bit attracted to her, he would've asked her out on a date by now. There'd certainly been plenty of opportunities. He'd shown more interest in the meat loaf and mashed potato special than in her. As far as she could tell, the only reason he made the long trek into town was so he could humiliate her with all the personal information she'd revealed.

The Grange dance was coming up that evening and nearly everyone in town planned to attend. Because most people were going to be at the dance, Bob and Merrily were closing the restaurant.

"I bet Pete will be there tonight," Merrily said, shooting her a secretive little smile.

Linnette let that pa.s.s. She cleared away the dishes and wiped the counter. The breakfast hour had pa.s.sed, and the number of customers wandering into the restaurant had slowed to a trickle. In the lull between breakfast and lunch, Linnette usually helped out in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, grating carrots, chopping onions-anything Bob needed her to do. This job was temporary, she knew; still, she found she liked being around these people.

One blessing was that working as a waitress had taken her mind off Cal and Vicki, and for that she was grateful. She'd heard from her mother that the two of them were going on another mustang rescue soon. Corrie had urged her to return to Cedar Cove, but Linnette had already made her decision and that was to stay in Buffalo Valley.

"Is the restaurant open for Thanksgiving?" she asked.

Merrily shook her head. "Most folks prefer to be at home. Buffalo Valley closes up tighter than a drum around the holidays."

"Oh."

"If you're going to be alone, you're welcome to join us," Merrily offered. "With three kids, it gets pretty hectic but there's always room for one more."

"Thanks," Linnette said. "I'm not sure what I'll do yet."

Merrily studied her. "Are you homesick?"

"Not really."

"You don't miss...some people?"

Thanks to Pete Mason, half the town knew she'd been jilted by the man she loved. Just thinking about the way he'd betrayed her confidence made her seethe. She couldn't imagine what had possessed her to tell Pete the things she had.

Later, as Linnette dressed for the dance, which she'd decided to attend, she thought about that conversation with Merrily. Surprisingly, she wasn't homesick. She missed her mother and father. Mack, too. And Gloria. Their frequent phone conversations helped.

As for her friends, they were few. Chad had written her a letter and updated her on what was happening at the clinic. He'd also mentioned that he'd talked Gloria into going to dinner with him.

Now that was news. Linnette had believed her sister might agree to a relationship once she was out of the picture. She didn't understand what the problem was, other than that Gloria seemed to think Linnette had some prior claim. While it was true that at one time she'd had a crush on the doctor, she'd been over him for ages.

When she did communicate with family and friends, no one referred to Cal. That was fine with her. Out of sight, out of mind was the old adage, and it had proved to be the case. She rarely thought of him these days, but if she did, the memory was accompanied by the same deep pain she'd experienced when he'd broken off their relationship.

The Grange Hall was on the outskirts of town. The parking lot was already crowded with pickup trucks of every model and style imaginable. In this part of the country, trucks and four-wheel-drive vehicles were a must and not a luxury. She'd driven in with Buffalo Bob, Merrily and their kids, and when they'd parked, she stood there for a moment, enjoying the crisp dark night and the music spilling out of the hall.

Merrily had lent her a pair of turquoise cowboy boots that were a good match for her three-quarter-length skirt. Her brown suede jacket was a nice touch, although fringe would've made it perfect. All she needed to look like a bona fide local was a hat. If her family could see her now...

Linnette was astonished to find that she was actually considering a future in Buffalo Valley. The town appealed to her, even if Pete Mason didn't. Although, he might if he wasn't so...so... She searched for the right word and couldn't think of one. Smart-mouthed? Rude? Presumptuous?

When Linnette had obtained her training as a physician a.s.sistant, she'd hoped to work in a town exactly like Buffalo Valley. Her original idea was to look in Montana or Wyoming, but her mother had been upset about her living so far from Washington. If Linnette had stuck with her plan, she might've saved herself a great deal of heartache. In retrospect, North Dakota suited her very well indeed.

Linnette came into the hall with Bob and Merrily and removed her long winter coat, throwing it on a pile with the others. A temporary stage had been erected, where a fiddler, a piano player and a man with a banjo provided the entertainment. They were currently taking a break.

She gazed around, noticing that sawdust was sprinkled on the floor for dancing. The wooden tables on the left-hand side of the hall held homemade desserts and punch. Kids sat under them watching the adults.

On the far right, three rows of chairs had been set up for those who were more interested in visiting than dancing.

Linnette had never seen anything like this, had never been anywhere like this.

Shortly after they'd taken off their coats, Buffalo Bob and Merrily left Linnette to join some of their friends. After an uncomfortable moment of hovering near the front entrance, Linnette sauntered over to the punch bowl and helped herself.

The music started again and before she'd taken her first swallow of punch, three men were shouldering one another aside in an effort to reach her first.

"Want to dance?" Charley Dawson asked her.

"What about me?" DeWayne Block wanted to know.

"It was my idea," Brian Ledel insisted.

Linnette straightened. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment. "I believe Charley asked me first," she said and, putting down her punch gla.s.s, offered him her hand. The band had just struck up a country waltz.

Linnette realized her mistake the third time Charley inadvertently stepped on her foot.

"Sorry... I'm not much good at this dancing business," he muttered.

"You're doing fine," she a.s.sured him and watched him mouth the words: one, two, three, one, two...

Even before the dance had finished, DeWayne Block was there to take his turn. Unfortunately, DeWayne seemed to have the same dance instructor as Charley. If this continued, she'd be hobbling around with two bruised and possibly broken feet.

When Pete Mason showed up to claim a dance, she nearly protested that she was ready to sit one out. But that would mean he'd escort her to the rows of chairs and stay with her. Linnette would rather endure another session of trampled toes than have Pete lean over to some stranger and expose another tidbit of her personal life.

Unexpectedly, Pete turned out to be an accomplished dancer. Not once did he come even close to stepping on her feet. More unexpected yet-during the entire dance he didn't say a word.

With his jaw resting against her temple, he expertly whirled her about the room with moves Arthur Murray himself would've approved. They might have been on a ballroom floor in New York City instead of a sawdust-covered Grange Hall on the prairies.

When the music ended, Pete released her with a brief bow. She blinked, viewing him with fresh eyes.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" she asked. After all, the man was a farmer.

"College," Pete said, obviously somewhat chagrined. "The dance cla.s.s pa.s.sed for a physical education elective, and I figured it was an easy A." He gave her a wry smile. "I was wrong. I've never worked harder for a grade in my life."