Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [6]
Jeb glanced away from the television long enough to recognize that Maddy needed to talk about this. He reached for the remote control and muted the sound. “It wasn’t as though Bernard’s death came as a shock.”
“I know. It’s just that…”
“What?” he urged.
“I’m worried about what’ll happen to Margaret without her father there to protect her.”
“How do you mean?”
“She’s alone for the first time in her life—and vulnerable.”
Jeb frowned. He hadn’t given the matter much thought, but Maddy was right. Margaret had lived a sheltered life, protected by her father and his name.
“She’s easy prey for some man. Anyone with a good line can just step in and take advantage of her. Look at all the attention she got at Bob and Merrily’s wedding.”
Jeb had no recollection of anything about that night except Maddy. She’d been seven months pregnant with his child. It was the night he’d asked her to marry him and she’d agreed.
“Almost every single man in Buffalo Valley invited Margaret to dance.”
It went without saying that the transformation in Margaret’s appearance and manner was due to Maddy’s efforts.
Maddy’s knitting needles clicked more rapidly, signaling her anxiety. “Margaret is about to become a very wealthy woman.”
“Credit her with some sense, Maddy,” Jeb said. “She’s intelligent and capable. Bernard made sure of that.”
“I agree with you, except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“She’d marry Matt Eilers in a heartbeat. Don’t ask me why, but she’s in love with the man.” The knitting needles were a blur by now. “He’d take advantage of her, too.”
“You don’t know that,” Jeb said, although he suspected she was right. He wasn’t any fonder of Matt Eilers than Maddy was. They’d never had any business dealings, he and Matt, so Jeb had no concrete reason to distrust the rancher. But he did.
“I hate myself for thinking ill of him,” she muttered.
Jeb shrugged. He viewed Eilers as a weak man, although he wasn’t sure exactly what had shaped that opinion.
Maddy’s sigh was expressive. “Last I heard, he was dating Sheryl Decker in Devils Lake.”
Jeb had never heard of her. “Who?”
“Sheryl Decker. She waits tables at a truck stop outside town.”
“Maybe he’ll marry her, then,” Jeb suggested, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.
Maddy sighed and relaxed the knitting needles in her lap. “We can always hope.”
“Matt,” Sheryl Decker called from the bedroom. “Bring me my cigarettes, would you?”
Matt opened the refrigerator and grabbed a cold can of beer. Sheryl knew he didn’t like her smoking, but his wishes didn’t dissuade her.
He returned to the bedroom and tossed the pack onto the bed, the abruptness of his action telling her he didn’t approve.
“You know how much I enjoy my smokes,” she said, pulling open her nightstand drawer and reaching for a lighter. She placed the cigarette between her lips, lit up and blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling.
Matt joined her on the bed and took a deep swallow of beer. He was upset with himself and with Sheryl. She knew he’d wanted to attend Bernard Clemens’s funeral. He might not have liked the wealthy rancher, but Clemens was his neighbor and he felt honor-bound to pay his last respects. Sheryl, however, had other ideas, and like a fool he’d fallen under her spell—and not for the first time, either. Without much effort, she’d managed to lure him into bed; despite his best intentions, he’d let it happen.
“Are you still mad at me?” she asked, running her long fingernail down the length of his arm.
“No,” he muttered. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
“You know I have to work tonight, and this afternoon was the only time we could be together.”
He did know. His mistake was in stopping by Sheryl’s place at all. He’d come into Devils Lake for