Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [23]
Her thoughts were interrupted by the jangling of the bell above the door. Hassie Knight walked in. The pharmacist visited often, usually without a specific reason; Sarah guessed she just liked seeing all the activity.
“It does my heart good,” Hassie had told her once. “This town is coming back to life and it’s starting right here in this shop.” And then the older woman said something that brought a rush of pride to Sarah every time she thought about it. “I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were my own daughter.”
“Afternoon, Hassie,” Sarah greeted her.
“I brought you a chocolate soda,” the older woman said, handing her a tall metal container filled to the brim with ice cream and soda. “I’m betting you didn’t eat lunch again today.”
Sarah hadn’t; she’d been too busy.
“We can’t have you getting weak and fainting on us, now can we?”
There was little likelihood of that happening, but Sarah wasn’t about to argue. Hassie made the best sodas she’d tasted anywhere. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how famished she was.
“Thank you,” she said.
Hassie nodded, then left as abruptly as she’d come.
Sarah stood by the window and watched her. Since her own mother’s death, she’d considered Hassie both advisor and friend. In Sarah’s opinion, Hassie Knight had held this town together. If not for her, the community would have shriveled up and died the way so many other prairie towns had in the last twenty years.
Sarah’s gaze drifted toward her husband’s service station. It was difficult even now, three months after speaking their vows, to believe they were actually married. Unfortunately, the joy she felt was almost immediately squelched by regret at her daughter’s estrangement. For reasons no one fully understood, Calla disliked Dennis. When they’d announced their engagement, Calla had run away, choosing instead to live with her father in Minneapolis.
Sarah felt an oppressive sadness, a painful despair, whenever she thought about Calla. It was agonizing to see history repeat itself as she watched Calla make the same mistakes she had. Sarah felt so helpless. Nothing she’d said or done had brought Calla home. She shook off the memory; thinking about her daughter made it impossible to concentrate on work.
At five o’clock, her employees packed up and headed home. Sarah stayed behind, catching up on some long-overdue paperwork. An hour after she closed, Dennis joined her.
He walked into the back room, stood behind her, kissing her neck. “You ready to leave?”
He smelled of gasoline and grease, and spicy aftershave. Sarah closed her eyes and enjoyed the loving feel of his arms around her.
“I won’t be long. Did you go to the post office?”
His hesitation told her he had.
“There’s a letter from Calla,” he told her.
Sarah’s heart flew into her throat. She’d been so anxious to get a response about Thanksgiving.
“Open it later,” Dennis advised.
Sarah whirled around, unable to believe he’d say such a thing. “Why?” He knew she’d been waiting for days to hear from her daughter.
“What if she tells you she won’t come?” Dennis asked.
“Then she won’t be here.” Sarah’s flippant reply suggested it didn’t matter one way or the other. In reality, it meant everything. She’d only spoken to Calla a few times in the past five months. Despite her best efforts, every conversation had left her feeling guilty, upset and depressed. If only she could get Calla away from Willie’s influence, talk to her, reason all this out.
Thanksgiving would be perfect. Her father and her brother, Jeb, along with Maddy and the baby, would be joining them. Even Dennis’s parents were coming. A big family dinner, the kind they’d had when her mother was alive. Perhaps it was greedy of her, but Sarah wanted her daughter with them. Surrounded by family, Calla would surely feel the love everyone had for her, would surely realize how much they missed her. Realize how much