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
Susannah’s Garden
(previously published as Old Boyfriends)
Back on Blossom Street
(previously published as Wednesdays at Four)
Twenty Wishes
Summer on Blossom Street
Hannah’s List
A Turn in the Road
Thursdays at Eight
Christmas in Seattle
Falling for Christmas
Angels at Christmas
A Mother’s Gift
A Mother’s Wish
Happy Mother’s 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
The Farmer Takes a Wife
(Exclusive short story)
Dear Friends,
I hope you’re enjoying your second visit to Buffalo Valley, North Dakota (or your first if you haven’t read Dakota Born yet). Dakota Home is among the most requested of my titles. This story is one of my favourites, too, and here it is… at last. The small town of Buffalo Valley really is the place of my heart, the home of my imagination.
My parents were both born and raised in the Dakotas, in towns much like this. As a child, I can remember making the long journey from Washington State in order to visit relatives, driving through the Badlands and stopping at Mount Rushmore to view the four presidents. I have fleeting memories of my mother’s parents, who died before I was six years old. Both of my grandfathers were farmers. I wrote the Dakota trilogy near the end of my parents’ lives. It was a tribute to them and to my German-speaking Russian grandparents, who arrived as immigrants around the turn of the twentieth century. I wanted to learn more about them and about the land they settled. What I discovered is that the people living and working the land now, a century later, aren’t so different from those pioneers. They’re hardworking, traditional and proud. A lot like my grandparents and parents. A lot like me.
PS I love to hear from readers! You can reach me through my website, www.debbiemacomber.com. Or write to me at PO Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA.
Dakota Home
Debbie Macomber
Anna and Anton Adler
and
Helen and Florian Zimmerman
For their courage, dedication and love
Prologue
Four years earlier
Jeb McKenna recognized death, sensed the cold, dark shadow of its approach as he labored for each breath. The will to live was strong, stronger than he could have imagined. Waves of agony assaulted him, draining what little energy he had left. In an effort to conserve his strength, he gritted his teeth and swallowed the groans.
Trapped as he was, he twisted his face toward the sun, seeking its warmth. Stretching toward the light. He refused to stare into the advancing darkness that waited to claim him. But the more he struggled, the weaker he grew. Each attempt to free himself brought unrelenting pain. Barely conscious now, he accepted the futility of his effort and went still as the darkness crept toward him inch by inch.
“Jeb! Dear God in heaven. Hold on, hold on. I’ll get help….”
Jeb tried to open his eyes but had become too weak. An eternity passed before he felt his head gently lifted and cradled in caring arms.
“Help is on the way… they’ll be here soon. Soon.”
It was Dennis, he realized, Dennis in a panic, his voice shaking and raw. Jeb couldn’t see what his friend was doing, but felt the tightening pressure of a tourniquet as Dennis secured it around his thigh.
Jeb wanted to thank him, but it was too late and he knew it, even if his friend didn’t. He was grateful to Dennis; he didn’t want to die, not alone in the middle of a wheat field, lying in his own blood, feeling the land slowly, surely swallow him.
He didn’t want his father—or worse, his sister—to discover his body. At least now they would be spared that agony.
So many regrets, so many mistakes.
“Hold on,” Dennis said, “hold on.”
