Dakota Home

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Authors: Debbie Macomber
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“I’m impressed.”
    â€œI’ll have you know I’m turning into a halfway decent cook. And baker. I bought the butter from you, though.”
    Maddy bowed in mock acknowledgement. “Hey, where’s Gage?”
    â€œHe’s off visiting Brandon Wyatt,” Lindsay answered. “He said he didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of a female gabfest.”
    Maddy pretended to be insulted, but she didn’t really mind. And even if she had felt slighted, she could forgive Gage just about anything. She’d liked him from the moment they’d met, and couldn’t be happier that Lindsay had married such a good man. Gage was hardworking, decent, honorable. And Maddy had recognised the attraction between them immediately. She’d had a feeling that first afternoon that this was only the beginning. And she’d been right.
    â€œOkay,” Maddy said once they were sitting at the table over their salads and warm, crusty slices of sourdough bread. “What’s your idea?”
    â€œIt has to do with Sarah Stern.” Lindsay clasped her hands in front of her and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “I was thinking about having my uncle Mike display her quilts in his furniture store.”
    â€œThat’s a stroke of genius!”
    â€œThank you, thank you.” Lindsay nodded regally and stabbed a slice of avocado with her fork. “You and I both know how beautiful Sarah’s quilts are, but Uncle Mike doesn’t. Not yet, anyway. He’s particular about the store and the displays. Mom showed him the gifts I brought last Christmas—the quilted table runners—and he liked them, but he hasn’t seen an actual full-size quilt yet.”
    Lindsay’s uncle owned one of the more upscale furniture stores in Savannah. Anything purchased at Mike’s was quality. He wouldn’t be an easy sell.
    â€œI hope this works out,” Lindsay added, frowning slightly. “I don’t know why, but Sarah and I have never really connected. A number of times last year, I could have used a friend like Sarah, but she rebuffed every effort I made.”
    â€œShe’s been nothing but kind to me,” Maddy countered.
    â€œOf course she has. She likes you. It’s me she has a problem with.”
    â€œShe’s warming up, though, don’t you think?”
    Lindsay reached for a slice of bread and slathered it with butter. “Somewhat,” she agreed. “The thing is, I genuinely like Sarah, and I think she’s very talented. She gave Gage and me a quilt as a wedding gift and it’s exquisite. I’d like to help her, if I can, and in the process get to know her better.” Lindsay hesitated. “In knowing Sarah, perhaps I’ll understand Calla better, too. I worry about that kid.”
    â€œCalla?”
    Lindsay propped her elbows on the table. “You know—teenage angst.”
    Maddy studied her friend and admired her for the caring, generous teacher she’d become this past year.
    They chatted about the town and Lindsay’s growing relationship with Angela Kirkpatrick, her long-lost aunt. The two had become close and Maddy knew it thrilled Lindsay to have family nearby. They communicated mostly through e-mail, but had also visited each other several times. Angela had met Lindsay’s parents at the wedding, and they kept in touch, as well.
    After a while, Lindsay’s eyes grew serious. “Are you going to tell me what happened in Savannah?”
    Maddy knew that eventually Lindsay would get around to asking her. As an idealist, she’d gone into social work, believing she could make a difference, and she had. What she hadn’t expected was the toll it would take on her own life. In the eight years she’d worked for the state, Maddy felt she’d given away so much of herself, there was nothing left. So many people needed help. More than she had to give. Unfortunately, she’d

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