“Ingenious,” Vaughn said. “Incredible. So that’s what you were talking about when you said they’d found ways around the poor prices.”
“Yeah. There’s often a solution—but sometimes you have to find it yourself.”
“Carrie.”
Carrie looked up to see Lindsay and Gage Sinclair standing in the aisle near them.
Carrie started to make the introductions, then remembered that Vaughn had met Lindsay in the pharmacy two days before.
“Vaughn, this is my husband, Gage,” Lindsay said.
Vaughn stood and held out his hand to Gage. He and Carrie made their way into the aisle.
“I understand you’re an Airborne Ranger,” Gage said.
“Was,” Vaughn corrected.
The two men began a conversation about military life, and Lindsay stepped closer to Carrie.
“Thanks for getting us such great seats,” Carrie said. Lindsay was a substitute teacher now but still worked on the play every year.
“No problem.” Lindsay glanced pointedly at Vaughn. “How’s it going?”
Carrie didn’t know how to answer. Her divorce had devastated her, and since then she’d thrown herself into her studies, forging ahead, insulating her heart. She’d been protecting herself from any risk of pain, but at the same time she’d eliminated any hope of finding love. Then Vaughn entered her life. His patience with Hassie had touched her. His willingness to hear her concerns about the changes that seemed to be coming to Buffalo Valley inspired her to fight for what she knew was right.
Carrie looked at Vaughn and sighed. “He gives me hope,” she whispered.
“I remember the first time I saw Gage,” Lindsay whispered back. “He looked at me and…I know it’s a cliché, but it was as if someone had zapped me with an electrical jolt. I didn’t even know this man’s name and it was as though I’d connected with him.”
The music started and Gage reached for Lindsay’s hand. “We’d better find our seats.”
Gage and Lindsay left, and Carrie and Vaughn returned to their own seats. No sooner had they settled in than the curtain went up.
Several times during the evening, Carrie caught Vaughn studying her. She felt his eyes on her, and when she turned to meet his gaze, he took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. Carrie had the sensation that something was troubling him, but now wasn’t the time to ask.
“Kids in high school actually wrote the play themselves?” Vaughn asked Carrie for the second time. He found it difficult to believe that a group of teenagers could have created and put on such a high-quality production. The acting was a bit amateurish, true, but the emotion and heart that went into each scene stirred him more than he would’ve thought possible.
After seeing the play, Vaughn realized he could no longer evade a decision regarding Value-X. Not after these vivid depictions of the struggles Buffalo Valley had faced. Through the years, bad weather and bouts of pestilence had plagued the land. The tales of the “dust bowl” years had given him a small taste of the hopelessness the farmers endured. The play ended with a farm family standing in the middle of a wheat field, their heads held high, their arms linked. Just thinking about that scene raised goose bumps on his arms.
“High-school kids,” he repeated before Carrie could respond.
“It was as good as I said it was, don’t you agree?”
Words fell short of describing the powerful sensation he’d experienced throughout the play.
“Would you like to come over to Buffalo Bob’s for hot cider? A lot of folks do,” Carrie said. “But I should warn you, Pete and Tom will be there.”
Vaughn would enjoy going another round with Carrie’s brothers, but unfortunately he had a long drive back to Grand Forks. “Another time,” he told her. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize.
As they stepped from the warmth of the theater into the cold night air, his breath became visible in foggy wisps. The cold seemed to press against him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.
“Let me get you home,” Vaughn said, placing his arm around her. He wasn’t accustomed to cold so severe it made his lungs ache just to draw a breath.
Carrie wrapped her scarf more securely about her neck and pulled on her wool hat. Normally they would have walked the short distance, but not when the cold was so bitter, the wind so vicious.
Vaughn helped her into his rental car, then hurried around the front and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Neither spoke as he drove the few short blocks to her family’s home. Vaughn wondered if Carrie had realized no one would be there. The house was dark. Had he asked, she would’ve invited him inside, but he preferred talking to her there, in the dark.
“Carrie, listen, there’s something I have to tell you.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look at her.
“I know what you’re going to say.”
He jerked his gaze to hers. Her blue eyes were barely visible in the moonlight, but he saw enough to be aware that she only thought she knew.
“We’ve known each other a very short time,” she said. “You’ll be leaving soon.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you and me.”
“Oh.” He could hear her surprise and embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.”
“At the same time, it has everything to do with us,” he said, and slid his arm around her neck and drew her to him. He breathed in her scent—clean and light and floral; he felt her body against him, softly yielding. After a moment of debating the wisdom of what he was about to do, he exhaled harshly.
“Vaughn, what is it?”
He didn’t know where he’d find the courage to tell her. She raised her head to look at him, her eyes full of warmth and concern. Kissing her was wrong; he knew it even as he lowered his mouth to hers. He didn’t care, he had to kiss her one last time before he was forced to watch the transformation that would come over her when she learned the truth. In a few seconds he was going to hurt and disillusion her.
His mouth was on hers with excitement, with need. The kiss was intense. Real. It seemed to him that the woman in his arms had flung open her life for him, and that thought left his senses reeling.
The guilt he felt was nearly overwhelming.