Read Online Dakota Born by Debbie Macomber - Free Book Online

of their own food as possible, seeing that they had the land. Then there was Princess to milk and chickens to feed and in the past year they’d added pigs. Thankfully Brandon did the butchering, but the care of the animals had become part of her duties.
    The animals tied them to the farm, so it was unusual to get away for more than a few hours. In the last four or five years, Joanie had come to feel isolated, to doubt her own sanity and lately her femininity, her attractiveness. It’d been weeks since they’d last made love, weeks since they’d done anything but fall into bed at the end of the day, too exhausted to even kiss. Whatever romance had existed in their marriage now seemed dead.
    Their argument that afternoon had started out as an innocent conversation on the drive into town, a mere mention of the washing machine, which was about to give up the ghost.
    â€œWe can’t afford a new one,” Brandon had snapped.
    Her mistake, Joanie realized, was mentioning the two-hundred-thousand-dollar combine Brandon had purchased two years earlier. They couldn’t afford an eight-hundred-dollar washing machine, but forking over six figures for a combine was done without blinking twice.
    That remark had sent their afternoon on a downward spiral. By the time they reached town, she’d walked over to Hansen’s Grocery on her own while Brandon headed for Buffalo Bob’s. He’d had three beers before she joined him.
    Despite his sullen demeanor, Joanie had tried to make the best of the situation. Hoping to put the argument behind them, she’d asked Buffalo Bob about the karaoke machine he’d recently purchased. He’d been eager to have someone try it out and so, with everyone watching, Joanie had gotten up to sing an old Beatles song. Her singing voice was halfway decent and she’d earned a hearty round of applause. Soon others, their inhibitions no doubt loosened by several beers, were taking their turns, and Buffalo Bob had thanked her for getting things rolling.
    Then, on the drive home, Brandon had accused her of flirting.
    â€œWith whom?” she’d cried.
    He’d been silent for a long moment before he said, “Buffalo Bob.”
    The idea was ludicrous and she didn’t know whether to laugh or act insulted. Instead of doing either, she said nothing. When they got home, Brandon had stormed off to the barn and she’d left almost immediately to pick up the kids.
    Her appetite was dismal and the kids were filled up on excitement and birthday cake, so she’d just made a chef’s salad for dinner. Brandon had taken one look at it and claimed he wasn’t hungry. Joanie had sat at the dinner table alone with her children.
    â€œIs Daddy mad?” Sage asked. Her daughter had always been sensitive to her parents’ moods.
    â€œOf course not, sweetheart,” she’d assured her, wanting to lay the eight-year-old’s fears to rest.
    â€œHow come he isn’t eating dinner with us?”
    â€œWell, because…” Joanie groped for a believable excuse. “Because we went into town while you were at the birthday party and had a little party of our own.”
    The excuse satisfied their son, who’d shown only minor concern over Brandon’s absence from the dinner table, but Sage didn’t look convinced. “Maybe I should make Daddy a sandwich and take it out to him.”
    â€œIf he wants something to eat, he’ll say so,” Joanie insisted. She wasn’t going to pander to Brandon’s moods, and she wasn’t about to let their daughter fall into that trap, either. Joanie felt she’d put together a perfectly good salad, and if he wanted something else, he could damn well cook it himself.
    After dinner, the kids watched a favorite Disney video. By nine they were ready for bed, tired out from the day’s activity. Joanie tucked them in, listened to their prayers and came back downstairs.
    Brandon