Worthy of Riches (19 page)

“Brian, you get back here,” Jean called. He acted as if he hadn't heard. “I don't like him over there. He's liable to get hurt.”

“Adam's with him. He'll keep a close eye out,” Laurel said, sitting beside her mother. She leaned back on her hands. “Whew. It's warm. I'm glad for the shade.” Mosquitoes buzzed around her head and she slapped at them. “Seems the mosquitoes like it too.”

A man walked by, leading two horses. Susie pointed. “Those are pretty. Can I ride one?” She ran after the man, blonde curls bouncing.

“Susie,” Jean said sharply. Scrambling to her feet, she captured the little girl. “You stay with us. I don't want you getting hurt.”

“Mama, she's fine,” Laurel said. “She wasn't going to get under the
animal's feet. She's been around livestock since the day she was born. She knows how to stay out of harm's way.”

“She's too little to know better.”

Laurel plucked a flower and twirled the stem between her fingers. “Mama,” she began hesitantly, “lately you've been extra protective of Brian and Susie. You seem to worry a lot, maybe too much.”

“So now that you're a married woman, you think you know better than I how to raise my children?” Jean snapped.

“I didn't mean it that way.”

Jean stood, and with her lips pressed tightly, watched Brian and Adam.

Pushing herself to her feet, Laurel said, “I just think you're being a little over-careful. That's all.”

Jean felt unreasonable anger and hurt. She swung around and glowered at Laurel. “You haven't lost a son and a husband. Maybe when you do, you'll know what it's like to be afraid of losing someone else.”

Almost immediately, shame and regret fell over Jean. Her eyes filling, she said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I don't ever want you to know what I'm feeling.”

Laurel pulled her mother into her arms. “I'm sorry too. I should be more understanding. Of course you're afraid. I would be too.”

Jean pressed her face into Laurel's shoulder and wept. After a few moments she stepped back, wiping away tears. “I hate how I am. I just can't seem to shake my grief. If I'm not sad, I'm angry. And I know I worry too much.” She glanced at Susie, who played quietly with her doll. “I keep the children in sight all the time. If they're gone at all, I worry something will happen to them. I even worry about you and Adam and the baby.”

She pressed her back against the cool bark of a birch and gazed up through its limbs. A breeze touched teardrop-shaped leaves, setting them to dancing. “You think God's watching over and taking care of the people you love, then something awful happens and you realize no one is safe.”

She shook her head. “I don't know why any of this happened. Your father and I always lived our lives loving God and doing our best to serve him.” She blinked away fresh tears. “It was foolish to believe
nothing bad could touch us.” Jean's eyes wandered to her two youngest. “I guess that's why I'm scared. I know terrible things happen.”

“Mama, God's still here, watching and caring.”

“Yes, but he allows things … things that hurt.”

Laurel stripped away a piece of white bark from the tree. “I wish I knew all the answers. I don't. But you've always taught me, and I believe it, that he does what is best.”

Jean nodded. “I know, but that doesn't change how I feel. I don't like what God's allowed. I want my family back. I just don't understand any of it.” She sniffled and wiped at her tears. Trying to smile, she added, “I don't know what's wrong with me today.”

Laurel rested her forehead against her mother's. “I remember when Justin died, you told me that life is like the blink of an eye when you compare it to eternity. And eternity awaits us all. We'll see Daddy and Justin again.”

Jean nodded. She wished she could feel the reality of the words, but they seemed to drift away like a leaf caught by a breeze and carried out of reach. She looked at her daughter and saw the same steadiness she'd known in Will. “You remind me of your father. He was always the strong one.”

“Mom! Guess what!” Brian yelled, running up to her. “I'm gonna ride a bull!”

“What?”

“Not a bull,” Adam corrected, running after the boy. “A calf.”

“It's almost like riding a bull,” Brian said.

“I don't understand. Why is he riding a calf?”

“He wanted to sign up, so I told him we'd ask you. They have calf riding for the kids.”

“Oh, I don't know. It doesn't sound safe.”

“Mom, I'm not a baby! I'm eight and a half years old. Lots of other boys are riding.”

“You could get hurt.”

A long pause of silence followed, then Laurel said, “It's all in fun. I don't think you have to worry. The calves aren't that big.”

Jean envisioned her son lying in the dirt, injured. She couldn't bear the thought. But if what Laurel said was true, she needed to let go of
Brian a little, let him experience life. Taking a deep breath, she said, “All right. I guess it wouldn't hurt.” She bent and held his face in her hands. “You hang on tight. Don't let that critter buck you off.”

Brian grinned. “I'll stick to him just like glue.” Without another word, he turned and raced to the registry table.

The rodeo started with calf roping and bareback riding, and then it was the boys' turn to try their hand at calf riding. Jean joined Laurel and Celeste at the fence. Susie stood beside her mother, her doll in one arm. Adam, Luke, and Robert were with Brian, giving him last-minute tips.

Two boys went ahead of Brian. The first managed to stay on until the whistle sounded and bailed off without incident. The other took a hard fall but quickly stood up and dusted dirt from his britches.

Brian climbed aboard, and Jean gripped the fence. “I shouldn't have let him do this.”

Laurel gave her mother a one-armed hug. “He'll be fine.”

Celeste and Robert joined them. “He's a natural,” Robert said. “He'll do great.”

“I don't understand why males have to do things like this,” Celeste said.

A gate opened, and Brian, atop a black whiteface, shot out of the chute. He gripped a thick length of rope, and his legs hugged the animal. The calf twisted and jumped, but Brian held on.

“Go Brian!” Robert yelled. Glancing at Adam, he said, “That's a hard-bucking calf.”

Her stomach churning, Jean watched as Brian's legs flew away from the animal and he slid to one side. “Hang on! Hang on, Brian!”

Clinging to the rope, Brian managed to stay with the animal another second; then the calf leapt up, landing straight-legged, head down. Brian flew over the calf's shoulders, still clinging to the rope. One more buck and the rope came loose. Brian landed with a hard thud.

The calf bucked away. Brian didn't move.

“Oh, my Lord!” Jean said.

Ray Townsend strode across the arena and kneeled beside Brian. He rested a hand on the boy's chest.

Adam, Robert, and Luke catapulted over the fence. Jean squeezed between the railings.

Brian wasn't moving.

Running to her son, Jean prayed, “Please, no, Father. Let him be all right.” She pushed through the onlookers and fell to her knees beside Brian. He was breathing, but his eyes were closed. “Brian! Brian! Can you hear me?”

At first he didn't respond. Then his eyes fluttered open. Gazing at his mother, he asked, “Did I make it?”

Everyone laughed with relief. “Almost,” Ray said. “It was a good ride.”

Brian pushed himself up on his elbows. “What happened? How come everyone's standing around?”

“You were knocked out,” Jean said, bracing his back. “Are you all right?”

Brian looked at himself. “I think so.”

Ray grabbed one of Brian's arms. “Up you go.”

Luke took the other, and glaring at Ray, said, “I've got him.” He hefted his brother to his feet.

Brian stood completely still for a moment while he regained his bearings.

“You sure you're all right?” Jean asked.

“Yeah.” He dusted off his pants. “Hey, that was a pretty good ride, huh?”

Relieved, but sick to her stomach, Jean said, “We're going home.”

“Home? Why?” Brian asked. “I want to watch the rest of the rodeo.”

Jean took his hand. “No. We're going home.”

“Mama, he's fine,” Laurel said.

“Maybe. He was unconscious. He needs to rest.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “I have to go, and Brian and Susie are coming with me.” She met Laurel's eyes, and despite the disappointment she saw, she'd made up her mind. “Enough is enough.”

“I'll take you,” Ray volunteered. “That way the rest of the family won't have to miss the festivities. I've seen a lot of these in my day. It won't hurt me none to miss it.”

“No. I'll take her,” Luke cut in.

“I can walk. I don't want any of you to leave.”

“Mrs. Hasper, I was just about ready to go anyway,” Ray said. “It's no trouble.”

Jean wasn't comfortable around Ray Townsend, but to refuse him would be rude. “All right then.”

“I'll get the car and be right back. Meet you over there.” He pointed at a field just beyond the paddocks.

As soon as Ray was out of earshot, Luke started in. “Why not let me take you home?”

“It's not necessary. You heard Mr. Townsend; he said he was leaving anyway.”

“How can you spend a minute with him?” He glanced at Celeste. “I… I'm sorry, but…”

Celeste said nothing, but her eyes revealed her hurt.

“I'm riding home with him. Who I ride with or don't ride with is no concern of yours.”

Ray Townsend pulled his car in beside a truck and trailer. He honked, then climbed out and waited.
Why am I doing this?
he wondered.
I'm just making things harder on her. Jean Hasper hates me. I don't blame her.
He glanced at Luke, who was still fuming.
And Luke hates me even more.

Holding Susie's hand, Jean crossed the field. Brian ambled along behind. Ray nodded at her. Although he'd told himself he only cared about her because she was a widow in need, he couldn't help but notice her good looks—hair the color of ginger, soft hazel eyes, and a slender build. The fire in her eyes had dimmed, but he remembered how they could blaze.

He wished he were more like Will Hasper—even-tempered, kind, and compassionate. If he had been, Will Hasper would probably still be alive, and the light in Jean Hasper's eyes would still be there.

Ray admired Will Hasper and had decided he'd do everything he could to be more like him. Now, with Christ living in him, he had hope that such a change was possible. He'd promised himself that he'd never be mean-spirited or raise his voice to anyone again.

“Climb on in the back, kids,” he said, opening the door.

Brian leaped onto the seat and bounced. “Wow, this is soft!”

Ray held the front door for Jean, and she slid onto the seat, careful to tuck her skirt in out of the way of the door. Susie climbed onto her lap. Brian was still bouncing. “Brian, stop that! Sit down and behave yourself.”

Brian sat, but his eyes roamed over the lush interior. “I've never been in a car like this. Did it cost a lot of money?”

Ray settled his large frame behind the wheel. “No. Didn't cost much. I won …” He stopped. He'd nearly told the boy he'd won it in a poker game. That's all he needed—for Jean Hasper to know he'd been a gambler too. “Uh, a friend of mine sold it to me cheap.”

“He must be a good friend,” Jean said.

“Yeah, he is.” Ray started the engine, already feeling guilty over lying about the car. Then he quietly said, “I won it in a poker game.” He kept his eyes straight ahead.

Jean said nothing.

They bounced across the field, then pulled onto a gravel road. Ray glanced over his shoulder at Brian. “That was a good ride you had today. You hung on right up to the last. It was a tough calf to ride.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“You seem to have a real knack for it.”

“I do?” Brian asked incredulously, then smiled and leaned on the back of the front seat. “I figure I'll try it again next year. I betcha I stay on 'til the whistle.”

“I'll bet you do,” Ray agreed.

With a sidelong glance at Ray, Jean said, “I don't know that you'll be doing any more riding.”

“Ah, Mom.”

She glanced at Ray. “Thank you for taking us home.”

“No problem. I'm glad to. It's the least I can do.” He gripped the steering wheel. “I mean … well… it should be me that's dead.”

“No one should be dead, Mr. Townsend, and you don't need to keep apologizing.”

Ray closed his mouth, embarrassed. He knew he should stop telling her how badly he felt but couldn't seem to help himself. Too many people still believed he didn't care about what happened. “Well, I am sorry. Just want you to know that. And I want you to know I've turned over a new leaf. I'm not the same man I was.”

Jean looked at him. “That's good. The man I knew wasn't very nice.”

Ray kept his eyes on the road. He hadn't expected her to throw barbs. Of course, he deserved it.

“I think you're nice,” Brian said, resting his chin on the back of the front seat. “I thought you were mean before, but now you seem real nice. I like you.”

Ray smiled. “Well, thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Brian tucked his legs under him and sat on his knees. He gazed out the window. “What's your favorite place in Alaska?”