Worthy of Riches (21 page)

Laurel stood to get a better view. The charming animal floated on its back, his long whiskers flicking back and forth as he feasted on an ocean delicacy. “He's cute.”

“Do you think we'll see more animals?” Brian asked.

“Maybe. Whales and sea lions are pretty common,” Ray said.

“Whales?” Brian asked.

“Sure. We have all kinds up here.”

“Do they eat people?”

“No,” Ray chuckled.

“I'd like to see one,” Adam said.

“Keep an eye out.”

A fishing boat chugged past, and the dory rocked in its wake.

Jean grabbed the back of Susie's britches. The little girl was leaning out of the boat, trailing a finger through the waves washing against the hull. “The water's cold.”

Jean hauled her in. “I'd feel better if you stayed right here beside me.”

As they approached the island, Jean knew why they called it Fire Island. The paintbrush was so dense that the island looked ablaze. “I've never seen anything like it,” she said. “It's covered with flowers.”

“Pretty impressive,” Adam said, taking pictures.

Ray steered the dory toward a small cove with a sandy beach. When the boat scraped bottom, he jumped out and began to haul it inland. Adam joined him. Ray then said, “This is as far as we're going with you on board. You'll have to get wet.”

Luke jumped out and took Susie from his mother. Carrying her on his shoulders, he waded ashore.

Brian followed, letting out a yell when he hit the icy water. He hurried for the beach.

Jean climbed out, carefully lowering herself into the water. “Whew, that's cold,” she said, thankful it was no deeper than her thighs. Once on the beach, she scanned the landscape. “It's bigger than I thought.”

“It's a good-sized island—about seven miles long. There's so much to see and do—beaches and woods to explore, cliffs to climb. And there are lots of birds and sea animals.”

Laurel and Celeste remained in the boat. Celeste stood and smiled
at her father. “Dad, do you think it's light enough to pull in a little more?”

“Well now, I don't know. Would that be fair?” With a smirk, he hauled on the rope and managed to get the boat into calf-deep water.

After removing her shoes, Celeste gingerly stepped into the water. “It's freezing,” she said, sprinting for dry land. With a laugh, she sat on a driftwood log and brushed sand off her bare feet.

Brian stared at his soaking shoes. “I should have taken my shoes off.”

Luke headed for a trail leading up the bluffs. “I'm going to do some exploring.”

“Don't go too far,” Jean cautioned. “You don't know your way around.”

“Well, if I get lost, all I have to do is follow the beach, and I'll find you eventually.” He strode off.

“I wonder if we'll see any sea lions?” Brian asked, staring at the small waves washing in.

“You might. Keep an eye on the rocks. They like to sun themselves,” Ray said. “Sometimes they'll stick their noses up and take a look at you.”

He grinned, his gray eyes no longer frightening. Jean wondered why she'd been so afraid of him, then remembered he wasn't the same man he'd once been.

“I s'pose we ought to haul the boat up on the beach and get everything unloaded.” He headed for the dory. “Adam, can you give me a hand?”

Provisions unloaded and a crackling fire going, Jean sat alone in the sand with her back resting against a chunk of driftwood. It was quiet except for the sound of birds and surf. A soft wind caught at her hair. She hadn't felt this calm since before Will's death.

After finishing the work, Ray had excused himself, disappearing up the same trail Luke had taken. Jean figured he wanted to be alone with his memories. Adam, Laurel, and Celeste had taken the children and headed down the beach to do some exploring. She'd simply wanted to rest, to soak in the quiet and the peace. Oh, how she needed peace.

Pushing her toes into the sand, she thought about napping. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the log. Sleep tugged at her, and she
finally lay down on a blanket, the sand like a soft mattress. Yet even in such a comfortable and peaceful setting, her heartache persisted. She longed for the man who'd shared so many years of her life. “I miss you,” she said softly as she dozed off to sleep.

Jean startled awake. Momentarily confused, she sat up and gazed out at the ocean; then her eyes focused on a shadow falling across the sand and over her. She looked up to find Ray Townsend standing over her. It was very disconcerting. She brushed hair off her face, feeling the grit of sand under her fingertips. “What time is it? Did I sleep long?”

“It's going on five.”

“That late?” Pushing herself to her feet, Jean brushed sand off her pants. “Where are the children?”

“Gathering driftwood for the fire. Soon as the sun drops behind the rocks, it'll turn cold.”

Jean felt groggy and chilled. She sat on a sun-bleached log and bundled into her coat.

Ray sat on a log opposite her. “I hauled these in,” he said, slapping the dead, bare tree. “Figured we'd need something to sit on.”

Jean nodded, then stared at the lapping surf. It felt strange to be sitting here on a lonely beach with the man who'd once hated and despised her husband and who probably had some responsibility for his death.

He stood. “I'll get the fire relit. The kids will be back soon, and I'll bet they're wet.” He gathered dry grass growing along the edge of the beach. For a big man he moved easily. Jean hadn't noticed earlier, but his curly hair had been clipped short, and his once wild beard was neatly trimmed. But more than his looks had changed. He wasn't as crusty as he'd once been. In fact, most of the time he was kind. Maybe it was his newfound faith. God had a way of changing people.

Kneeling in the sand, he cleared out a large round pit with his hands and set some of the grass in the bottom. “I'm ready for that wood,” he said, glancing down the beach.

A few moments later Brian and Susie appeared from around a rock outcropping, their arms full of small pieces of driftwood. Susie kept dropping chunks as she struggled to walk through soft sand. Each time
she lost one, she'd stop and pick it up only to lose more when she bent over. Instead of getting frustrated, she simply picked up the lost pieces and trudged on.
Her patience will serve her well,
Jean thought, knowing she'd face days ahead when it would be needed.

Brian strode up to Ray. “Where do you want these?” he asked in his most grown-up voice.

“Right here would be good,” Ray said, touching the sand beside him with his toe. “Those look like just the right size.”

Brian smiled and dropped the wood. Susie added her pieces to the pile.

Celeste, Adam, Laurel, and Luke appeared a moment later, their arms laden with wood. They laughed and kicked sand at each other. Luke's smile disappeared, and he turned quiet when he walked into camp.

“Where do you want this?” Adam asked.

“We need to be able to get at it. Why not over there?” Ray pointed to a place just outside the circle of logs.

Adam and Laurel dropped their wood in a pile, and Celeste and Luke added to it. Adam caught Laurel in his arms and pulled her close, then looked at Ray. “This was a good idea. Thanks for bringing us here.”

“You're welcome. But you ought to thank Brian. It was his idea.”

“Well then, thank you, Brian.” Adam bowed slightly toward his young brother-in-law, then clasped Laurel's hand. “We're going for a walk. We won't be gone long.”

“We'll bring more wood,” Laurel added, allowing Adam to draw her away.

“I better get dinner started,” Jean said.

“I'll help,” Celeste offered.

By the time Adam and Laurel returned, a fire crackled and the smell of roasting meat and vegetables carried into the air. “Mmm, smells good,” Adam said, dropping onto a log.

“It's just moose and vegetables,” Jean said, pushing a stick through the handle of a cast iron pot and coaxing it out of hot coals. She lifted the lid with a hot pad and stirred the contents. A gust of wind carried away rising steam.

“Good thing there aren't bears around here,” Adam said. “They'd
smell …” He clamped his mouth shut. “Sorry.” He poked at cinders with a stick.

Tension settled over the group.

Jean forced a smile. “Don't apologize. You're right. We can be thankful. I wouldn't want to contend with a bear for my dinner.”

Adam offered her an apologetic smile.

Soon everyone chatted about what they'd seen; the children talked about scuttling crabs, seaweed, and iridescent abalone shells. Celeste told of rock climbing and birds' nests. With their arms intertwined, Adam and Laurel shared their sighting of a beluga. Luke said nothing.

“So, Ray, how long have you lived in Alaska?” Adam asked.

“Well, let me see now. Ellie and me came up from Montana in 1912. So, that's been a good twenty-five years.” He grinned. “Just one week after we got here, Mt. Katmai blew up. Ellie was already leery of living way out here in the wilderness. And let me tell you, it was a wilderness then—nothing like it is now. There were no farms or towns, just a few cabins here and there. Anchorage wasn't even a town. I think a few folks had homesteaded down by Ship Creek, but that's about all.”

“I can't imagine what it would be like to come to a place without even a town,” Laurel said, huddling close to Adam.

“I loved it. 'Course, I've always been a man who likes his space, and the wilder the better. But poor Ellie—it was hard on her, especially with that mountain blowing up. We had ash all over everything. She was a real trooper, though, and made the best of it. After a while she fell in love with the valley too.

“We built our cabin; then she put in a garden while I hunted and trapped. That first season I got my first bighorn sheep. He was magnificent. Had a huge rack.” He quieted and took a sip of coffee. “We had a good life.” Looking over the darkening ocean, he added, “This was a favorite place of hers. We used to come here often as we could.”

“I remember,” Celeste said. “I loved our trips. We'd dig for clams and search the tidewaters for sea creatures.” She grinned. “Do you remember the time your shirt caught on fire and we doused you with the water in our bucket?” She laughed, then explained, “Mom and I had been gathering and saving live crabs and minnows. We even had a starfish in that bucket. Oh, what a sight.”

“I think you were more worried about the critters than you were about me.”

“I was not.” A satisfied smile settled on Celeste's face. “I knew the fire was out before I started gathering up our collection.”

“Those were good days,” Ray said, his voice catching.

Jean hadn't given much thought to Ray's grief. She felt a twinge of guilt at her self-interest. “We're real pleased you brought us here,” she said.

“I love it,” Laurel said. She looked at Adam. “Can we come back?”

“Sure.”

Luke stood. “I'm going for a walk.” He headed up the beach.

“Luke?” Jean called, but he acted as if he didn't hear and kept going. Watching his back, Jean felt her good mood sag. Momentarily angry with Ray for his part in this, she glanced at him.

His sad eyes followed Luke, and then he looked at Jean and held her gaze. She felt an unexpected connection with him and quickly looked away. What was it that she'd felt?

JEAN WOKE TO THE SMELL OF COFFEE AND FRYING BACON. ROLLING ONTO HER side, she watched Ray, who stood over a small fire. He dropped slices of bacon into a cast-iron pan resting in coals, then sat with his back against a log and drank from a mug. He watched the surf and looked content.

A confused mix of emotions tumbled through Jean. She understood that hating Ray Townsend was wrong, but contempt prodded her. It was difficult to watch this man sit here happy and fulfilled. It wasn't fair.

Even as her mind followed this train of thought, she knew all that was in the past and best left there. And Ray Townsend had changed. He was different and clearly wished her and her family no malice.

Jean didn't want to think about it. She rolled over and burrowed beneath her blankets, circling an arm around Susie. The little girl pressed her back against her, a dreamy smile touching her lips.
Father, thank you for my children,
Jean thought, understanding that their presence eased the emptiness.

Jean heard someone moving about and looked to see Luke head toward the beach. He passed Mr. Townsend without acknowledgment. Ray watched the young man. When he returned to cooking, his smile was gone and grief touched his eyes. Feeling like an intruder, she closed her eyes.

“That sure smells good. What is it?” Brian asked, sitting up.

Looking at the boy, Ray turned on a smile. “It's breakfast. You hungry?”

“Uh-huh.” Brian stood, with his blankets draped over his shoulders. “Can I help?” he asked, dropping the covers.

“Sure. Get me the eggs.”

Brian leaped over a small log and marched to the box of food. Reaching inside, he lifted out an egg carrier. It was large and bulky and made of metal, so it was heavy. Brian managed to get it to Ray without dropping it.

“Thanks.” Ray set the box on the ground beside him.

“Sure looks good,” Brian said, eyeing the bacon.

“Won't be long now.” Ray speared several slices, lifted them out of the pan and set them on a plate. “Do you know how to make toast?”

“Sure.”

He set out sliced bread and nodded toward a stack of dishes. “There's a pan over there. Set it in the coals and use it to toast the bread.” Ray watched the boy, and when the bread was laid out in the pan, he said, “Make sure to turn them. I don't like mine burned.” He handed the youngster a cube of butter. “Spread a little of this on when they're done.”

Brian was diligent. He checked each slice often, careful not to burn any. As each piece finished cooking, he slathered it with butter and set it on a plate.

Celeste climbed out of bed and sat beside her father. “Morning, Dad.”

“Morning. You sleep all right?”

“Uh-huh. I always sleep well when we're here.”

Adam sat up and yawned. Throwing back his covers, he stood. Laurel pulled the blankets closely around her and snuggled down. Adam sat on a log opposite Celeste. He studied the mists hovering over the cove. “Hope it clears up.”