Make time for friends. Make time for
Debbie Macomber
CEDAR COVE
16 Lighthouse Road
204 Rosewood Lane
311 Pelican Court
44 Cranberry Point
50 Harbor Street
6 Rainier Drive
74 Seaside Avenue
8 Sandpiper Way
92 Pacific Boulevard
1022 Evergreen Place
1105 Yakima Street
A Merry Little Christmas
(featuring 1225 Christmas Tree Lane and 5-B Poppy Lane)
BLOSSOM STREET
The Shop on Blossom Street
A Good Yarn
Susannahâs Garden
(previously published as Old Boyfriends)
Back on Blossom Street
(previously published as Wednesdays at Four)
Twenty Wishes
Summer on Blossom Street
Hannahâs List
A Turn in the Road
Thursdays at Eight
Christmas in Seattle
Falling for Christmas
Angels at Christmas
A Motherâs Gift
A Motherâs Wish
Happy Motherâs Day
Be My Valentine
THE MANNINGS
The Manning Sisters
The Manning Brides
The Manning Grooms
Summer in Orchard Valley
THE DAKOTAS
Dakota Born
Dakota Home
Always Dakota
Dear Reader,
Here at last is Always Dakota, the third book in my Dakota trilogy. I wrote this series of books in honour of my parents, who were born and raised in the Dakotas, and Iâm thrilled these stories still have meaning for you. Buffalo Valley is a prairie town thatâs been given a new chance at life; itâs now a place of hope and optimism and energy.
I feel I should warn you about something, though. Margaret Clemens isnât your everyday kind of heroineâand Matt Eilers is unlike any other hero Iâve written. Life becomes very complicated for this young manâbut Iâm getting ahead of myself. Besides, youâll find out all about Matt and Margaret soon enough.
I need to thank a number of people for their help as I worked on this series. One is my cousin Shirley Adler, who braved a Dakota winter so I could do the necessary research.
(I probably shouldnât mention that it was one of the mildest winters on record!) Cousins Gary and Letty Zimmerman and Paula and Mike Greff, North Dakota natives all, offered invaluable assistance, as did authors and good friends Sandy Huseby and Judy Baer. What would a writer do without family and friends?
OK, my dear reader, settle down in a comfortable chair and get ready to visit Buffalo Valley again. Iâm sure youâre going to enjoy your visit!
PS I love hearing from readers. You can reach me at www.debbiemacomber.com or write me at PO Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA.
September
Bernard Clemens was dying and he knew it, despite what the doctorsâall those fancy specialistsâhad said about his heart. He knew. He was old and tired, ready for death.
Sitting in the den of the home heâd built thirty years ago for his wife, he closed his eyes and remembered. Maggie had been his great love. His only love. Delicate and beautiful, nearly sixteen years younger, she could have had her choice of husbands, but sheâd chosen him. An aging rancher with a craggy face and work-roughened hands. A man who had simple tastes and lacked social refinement. And yet sheâd loved him.
God help him, heâd loved her, loved her still, although sheâd been gone now for nearly twenty-seven years.
Her love had been gift enough, but sheâd yearned to give him a son. Bernard, too, had hoped for an heir. Heâd purchased the Triple C as a young man, buying the land adjacent to his parentsâ property, and eventually heâd built the combined ranches into one huge spread, an empire to pass on to his son. However, the child had been a girl and theyâd named her Margaret, after her mother.
The pregnancy had drained Maggie and she was further weakened that winter by a particularly bad strain of the flu. Pneumonia had set in soon afterward, and before anyone realized how serious it was, his Maggie was gone.
In all his life, Bernard had never known such grief. With Maggieâs death, heâd lost what he valued mostâthe woman whoâd brought him joy. When they lowered her casket into the ground, they might as well have buried him, too. From that point forward, he threw himself into ranching, buying more land, increasing his herd and consequently turning the Triple C into one of the largest and most prosperous cattle ranches in all of North Dakota.
As for being a father to young Margaret, heâd tried, but as the eldest of seven boys, he had no experience in dealing with little girls. In the years that followed, his six younger brothers had all lived and worked with him for brief periods of time, eventually moving on and getting married and starting families of their own.
Theyâd helped him raise her, teaching her about ranching waysâriding and roping ⦠and cussing, he was sorry to admit.
To this day, Margaret loved her uncles. Loved riding horses, too. She was a fine horsewoman, and more knowledgeable about cattle than any man he knew. Sheâd grown tall and smartânot to mention smart-mouthed âbut Bernard feared heâd done his only child a grave disservice. Margaret resembled him more than she did her mother. Maggie had been a fragile, dainty woman who brought out everything that was good in Bernard.