Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [53]
“You’ve made me proud in more ways than one, Heath,” she continued. “I’m confident that Buffalo County Bank will prosper with you as president.” Her eyes were steadfast on his.
“President?”
“You’re ready. You have been for a long time.”
Heath looked at Rachel. They’d decided, because of her restaurant and Mark’s school, to make their home in Buffalo Valley. His grandmother was moving him into the leadership of the bank, and the head office wasn’t in Buffalo Valley. Such a promotion would mean many long hours on the road, commuting to and from Grand Forks, not to mention the other eight branches across the state.
His frown must have said it all.
“Your grandfather and I started the business in Buffalo Valley,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “Yes, Grandma,” he murmured, “I know that. But things are different now….”
Her smile was fleeting. “You’ll figure it out. Michael and I did, all those years ago.” Her eyes were tired and slowly drifted closed. “Now I think it’s time I went home.”
Long past time, but Heath had already said so earlier. As it was, she seemed to have fallen asleep in her wheelchair.
“Heath?” Rachel joined him. He stood and slid his arm around his bride’s waist, taken aback once again by her beauty. “Lily’s tired,” he whispered. “She needs to go home.”
Rachel pressed her head to his shoulder. “Perhaps you’d better see her out.”
“You don’t mind?” He hated to leave his wife of only a few hours. She’d been more than patient already.
“Lily needs you.”
Grateful for Rachel’s understanding, Heath kissed her cheek and accompanied his grandmother to the car the home had sent for her. Not allowing the attendant to place her in the vehicle, Heath gently lifted her from the chair himself and set her inside.
As the car pulled away from the curb, it occurred to him that he was now officially the president of Buffalo County Bank. For nearly three years, he’d served on the board of directors, sat in on meetings, offered his recommendations. Apparently his grandmother was confident that he was ready to take over.
This was no small matter. In his hands she’d placed fifty years of banking history and the future of one of the largest financial institutions in the state. Along with faith, love and trust, she’d presented him with a huge personal dilemma.
“You’re a crafty little devil,” he whispered aloud. “Your favorite relative, am I?” Then the laughter came, bubbling up inside him. He was her only relative. And he doubted very much that he’d always been her favorite, as she’d claimed. Still, that made no difference. He adored Lily Quantrill as much as he ever had—more—and was thankful for the influence she’d had on his life.
Rachel was waiting for him when Heath returned to the reception. “Is everything all right?” she asked.
Heath nodded. “Just fine,” he said, and unable to resist, he kissed her.
“How much longer do you think we’re going to have Lily?” Rachel asked.
Heath shrugged; he’d been wondering the same thing all evening.
The question was answered a week later when Lily Quantrill died quietly in her sleep.
Eight
It soon became apparent to Matt that Sheryl had no intention of staying out of his life. Sadie took considerable delight in letting him know his “girlfriend” continued to phone the house. Her pinched lips suggested it was all she could do to keep her opinions to herself.
“If she calls again, hang up on her,” Matt instructed.
“Very well,” Sadie returned flippantly. Everything the housekeeper said and did spoke of her disapproval. If it was up to him, he’d fire the woman, but she’d been with the family for years, and Margaret felt a strong loyalty toward her.
“I think you should know she isn’t going to give up easily,” Sadie told him. This was the day after his confrontation with Margaret, and Matt was particularly sensitive to the subject of Sheryl—and sick of it. “She wanted me to tell you that if you didn’t see her soon, you’d regret it,” the housekeeper intoned with far too much pleasure.
Great. It’d come down to threats, had it? Matt didn’t know what the hell he was supposed