“Buffalo Valley is afraid of losing its character.”

“Every town is in the beginning. They get over it. Sooner or later, each town comes to realize that we know what’s best for them. Buffalo Valley will, too.”

This was worse than he’d thought. Vaughn rubbed his hand down his face. Still sitting on the edge of his bed, he tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling. This was really bad.

Value-X had no intention of listening to the concerns of Buffalo Valley’s citizens. In its arrogance, the retailer had decided on a course of action, one that reflected solely its own interests.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you,” Natalie told him, lowering her voice seductively.

It was almost more than Vaughn could do to echo the sentiment.

When he finished the conversation, he returned to the kitchen to find his mother dishing up ice cream.

“You interested?” she asked, holding up the scoop.

“Sure, why not?” he muttered. He took a third bowl from the cupboard and handed it to this mother, who pried open the carton lid.

“Tell me more about Natalie,” she said.

Vaughn didn’t know what to say. “You’ll meet her soon enough.”

“She’s joining us after Christmas, right?” She studied him hard, and Vaughn knew what she was thinking. He’d spent almost every day of the past week with Carrie. He was with one woman and had another waiting in the wings—that was how it looked. His mother’s eyes filled with questions.

“Natalie is coming, then?” she repeated when he didn’t answer.

“So it seems.” He sighed. She’d show up even if he asked her to stay home. Value-X was paying for the trip.

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” his mother murmured, her eyes narrowed. “What about Carrie?”

“Mom…”

“I know, I know, but I can’t help wondering if you’re really sure of what you want. I saw the look Carrie gave you as we left Buffalo Valley earlier today.”

Vaughn frowned.

“She deserves your honesty.”

He was in full agreement; he owed Carrie the truth, and not only about his relationship with Natalie. He had to tell her about Value-X.

As soon as his mother left the kitchen, Vaughn reached for the phone. Unfortunately Carrie wasn’t home. He recalled now that she’d mentioned something about meeting with the church women’s group, but that’d slipped his mind. He left a message with one of her brothers.

After that, he joined his parents in the living room. He settled on the sofa next to his mother and focused his attention on a television show about Christmas traditions around the world.

An hour later the phone pealed and his mother automatically rose to answer it. She returned almost immediately. “It’s Carrie for you.”

Vaughn went into the kitchen.

“Hi,” she said excitedly when he picked up the receiver. “I just got back from the Cookie Exchange and got your message.”

“How was it?”

“Great, as usual. There was a lot of talk about this Value-X problem. We’re going to take active measures to keep the company out of town.”

She’d given him the perfect lead. This was his chance to explain the whole confused mess. But Vaughn didn’t. He couldn’t, not over the phone. It was something that needed to be said face-to-face, he decided. Okay, so he was a coward.

Carrie seemed to be waiting for a response, so to keep the conversation going, he asked, “What can be done?”

“According to Hassie, nothing. She’s afraid we can’t win, especially after everything she’s heard and read. According to all the news stories, the company practically always comes out on top. Still, there are a few towns that didn’t give in, including one in Montana, I think.” She paused. “Hassie’s real problem is that she’s just tired out. But I’m not, and neither are the rest of us.”

Vaughn could hear the fighting spirit in her voice.

“I suggest you start with Ambrose Kohn.” That was probably more than he should’ve said, but the words escaped before he could judge their wisdom.

“We’re having an organizational meeting as soon as it can be arranged, and I’ll recommend that.”

“Great,” he mumbled, wishing he could tell her he didn’t want to hear any of this. It put him in a terrible position. He’d be a traitor to Value-X and Natalie if he withheld these facts, and a traitor to Carrie if he relayed them.

“…tomorrow night.”

“I’m sorry,” Vaughn said, trapped in his own dilemma. “What did you say?”

“Can you come? It’s the high-school play. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but we’re all proud of it. The play’s about the history of Buffalo Valley and the families that settled here. It’ll give you a feel for the town.”

Vaughn’s own great-grandparents on his mother’s side had settled in the Dakotas in the late 1800s. He pondered Carrie’s words. Knowing more about the town’s past might help him decide what to do about his relationship with Value-X—and Natalie. It was a faint hope—and maybe just another delaying tactic—but he had nothing else to cling to.

“Will you come as my guest?” she asked.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

She gave him the details and Vaughn hung up the phone feeling as vulnerable and unsure as ever.

“How’d it go?” his mother asked when he returned to the living room.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Just fine.”

Chapter 7

The theater was filled to capacity. People crowded the aisle, chatting and visiting with one another. Carrie had been fortunate to get good seats for herself and Vaughn, thanks to Lindsay Sinclair.

“I didn’t know there were this many people in Buffalo Valley,” Vaughn said, twisting around to glance over his shoulder.

“There aren’t. Folks come from all over. The Cowans drove down from Canada. Her great-grandmother is one of the main characters in the play.”

Vaughn looked at his program. “So, Lindsay Sinclair is the producer and director of Dakota Christmas.”

Carrie nodded. “Lindsay’s the person responsible for all this,” she said, gesturing toward her friend. “None of it would’ve happened without her.”

Carrie went on to explain how the play had been created and described everything Lindsay had done to make sure it got performed. At the end of the story she told him that the theater belonged to Ambrose Kohn.

“The Ambrose Kohn?” Vaughn’s brows arched.

“When Lindsay first arrived, the theater was nothing but cobwebs and dirt. She was a first-year teacher and one of the stipulations when she accepted the job was that the community would pitch in and help.”

“In what way?”

“In whatever way she required. She asked the town’s older people to talk to the kids. It started with Joshua McKenna. At the time he was president of the town council, plus he knows quite a bit of local history. After that, Lindsay lined up community representatives to come to the school on Friday afternoons. Joshua was the one who gave her the idea of having the kids write the play.”

“The high-schoolers wrote the play?”

“The original script was created by the kids Lindsay taught six years ago. Each new group of students refines it a little bit.”

“This is the sixth year?” He glanced around with what appeared to be renewed appreciation. “Pretty impressive audience.”

“It’s a fabulous play. Why else would so many people return year after year?”

“What’s your favorite part?”

“I love all of it. There’s a scene early on when a tornado hits the town and everything’s destroyed. The people lose heart. Entire crops are wiped out and families are left homeless. You can just feel their agony.” She didn’t mean to get carried away, but no matter how often she’d seen it, the scene brought tears to Carrie’s eyes.

“What happens then?” Vaughn asked.

“Everyone pulls together. The people whose fields were spared share their crops with the ones who lost everything. With everyone working together, they rebuild the farms destroyed in the tornado and save the town.”

Vaughn nodded slowly. “Teamwork,” he murmured.

“That was a message that really hit home for all of us. So many of the farmers continue to struggle financially. The play helped remind us that we need to work together. Then and now.”

“Are you talking about Value-X?”

Carrie shook her head. “Not only Value-X. We have more problems than just that. As you probably know, farm prices are low and have been for years. Most folks around here feel that no one appreciates the contribution of the small farmer anymore. A lot of people were demoralized by what was happening.”

“Is it better now?”

“Yes, but only because farmers in the area have banded together. They still aren’t getting decent prices for their crops, but they’ve found ways around that.”

Carrie looked away; she had to swallow the lump in her throat. Her own family had been forced off the farm. The land had produced record yields, and it still wasn’t enough to make ends meet. After several years of dismal wheat prices, the family had realized the farm could no longer support them all. That was when her parents and younger brothers had moved into town.

This had happened shortly after she’d filed for divorce. At first it had seemed inevitable that they’d have to sell the land, but then her two older brothers had decided to lease it. Pete and Tom were married by this time, and along with their wives, they’d made the decision to stay.

Buffalo Valley had started to show signs of new life—with the reopening of the hotel and bar, as well as Rachel’s pizza restaurant. And Lindsay, of course, had brought fresh hope to the community in so many ways….

Carrie’s mother had come into a small inheritance, and her parents chose to invest it in a business. Buffalo Valley was badly in need of an all-purpose hardware store. Carrie’s father felt confident that if people could shop locally, they would, so the family had risked everything with this venture. To date, it had been a wise choice, but now with the mega-chain threatening to swallow up smaller businesses, the Hendricksons were in grave danger of losing it all.

“The American farmer refuses to be discounted,” Carrie said, clearing her throat. “When was the last time you purchased pasta?”

“Pasta? As in noodles?” Vaughn asked in a puzzled voice. “Not recently. What makes you ask?”

“Ever hear of Velma brand?”

“Can’t say I have.”

Carrie tucked her arm through his. “It’s made with wheat grown right here in Buffalo Valley. Brandon Wyatt and Gage Sinclair are part of the program. A year ago they joined several other local farmers, including my brothers, and some not so local, and cut out the middleman.”

“You mean a group of farmers decided to start their own pasta company?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”