Worthy of Riches (24 page)

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Authors: Bonnie Leon

BOOK: Worthy of Riches
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Laurel headed for the door. “I better get Adam home. I've still got supper to cook. Looks like yours is almost done.”

“Don't run off. We have plenty. Join us.”

“Normally I'd say yes, but to tell you the truth, I don't want to be at the same table with Luke and Ray Townsend.” She gave her mother a wry smile and left.

Jean contemplated dinner with Ray and Luke.
I shouldn't have asked him.

 

With the sun's last rays slanting through the window, Jean, Brian, Susie, Luke, and Ray sat down to dinner. As expected, Luke was sullen. He didn't even try to mask his hostility.

“Shall we say grace,” Jean said, folding her hands.

“Hey, can Mr. Townsend say it?” Brian asked.

Jean shrugged. “Mr. Townsend?”

“Sure,” he said, then looking slightly flustered, Ray bowed his head. “Dear Lord, I thank you for this food and fine company. I ask that you guide our steps in the days to come. Amen.” He looked up, his face flushed.

Food was passed around the table. Ray lifted two chunks of salmon off a platter. “Sure looks good. Thanks for inviting me.”

“After all the work you do around here, it's the least I can do.” Jean spooned out a serving of beans for herself and Susie. “You said Celeste was going out tonight?”

“Yeah. She and Robert are going to the movies.”

“A Laurel and Hardy movie is playing,” Brian said. “They're funny. I wish I could go. Can I?”

“Not tonight,” Jean said.

Brian's mouth turned down in a momentary pout, then he said, “I saw Robert and Celeste holding hands.”

“What Robert and Celeste do is none of our business,” Jean said. “Now, eat.”

Ray took a bite of buttered bread. “They're seeing a lot of each other. I've been wondering what's going to come of it.” He glanced at his bread. “This is good. Celeste should get your recipe.” He took another bite, then leaning his forearms on the table, he looked at Luke. “I'll be taking a trip up into the mountains soon to hunt sheep. Would you like to come along?”

Luke glared at him. “Hunting with you? No thanks. I'm not ready to become bear fodder.” A pained expression flickered across Ray's face.

Jean couldn't believe Luke's cruel words. If he'd been sitting closer, she might have slapped him. “Luke!”

Pushing back his chair in such a hurry it tipped over, he stormed out of the room.

“Luke!” Jean repeated. He didn't respond. “Luke.” She could hear him tramp up the stairs and slam his door.

“I'm so sorry,” Jean said. “He's not usually like this.”

“Don't apologize,” Ray said, righting the chair. “I understand why he hates me. I suppose he's entitled to.”

“No, he isn't,” Brian said. “He makes me so mad. You're nice, Mr. Townsend. What's wrong with him anyway?” Pouting, Brian propped his chin in his hands.

Ray set his fork on his plate. “Don't be mad at your brother. All this is real hard on him. He's mad at me—rightfully so. I did some bad things.”

“Yeah, but you said you were sorry. And I know you didn't mean for Daddy to die.” Brian was crying now.

Susie looked up through blonde curls, her blue eyes wide. “I like you, Mr. Townsend. I'm glad you're here.”

Ray smiled at the little girl. “Thank you. I'm glad to be here.”

After that the meal turned quiet, and Ray quickly excused himself after he finished eating. “Better get on home. The cow will be hollering at me to milk her. Thanks again for the supper. It was delicious.” He hurried out.

As soon as his truck lights headed down the driveway, Jean went upstairs to Luke's room. She was angry. She rapped on the door and stepped in before Luke could answer

Luke, who'd been lying on his bed, sat up.

“What do you think you're doing?” Jean started in. “How dare you act that way! You've no right to treat a guest in our house like that!”

“No right? He killed my father, and he's smooth talking my mother! I can't believe you invited him.” He grabbed a baseball off his bed stand and tossed it into the air several times. Catching the ball and holding it, he continued, “And that pie—it was for him, wasn't it?”

“For him? No. It was for us.”

Ignoring his mother, Luke continued, “He's traipsing in here, trying to take over our lives and our farm.”

“He's doing no such thing!” Jean folded her arms over her chest. “He's simply a neighbor helping us in our time of need. And we are in need.” Jean fought to quiet her temper. “I know he was cruel to us and others, but that's all in the past now. He wants to make amends. And whether you like it or not, we need his help. There's too much for you and Adam to do. Adam has his own place to tend to; he can't spend all his time here. We should be grateful for Mr. Townsend's help.”

Luke's eyes flamed. “You've already started to forget Dad, haven't you? He's only been gone five months, and you're ready to move on— to someone else.”

Without thinking, Jean slapped Luke. She stared at the red palm mark on his cheek.

Luke turned and looked out the window.

After a long silence, Jean said evenly, “I'm sorry you're hurting, but that doesn't give you the right to speak to me the way you just did. I love your father, and I will not forget him. No one can ever replace him, but that doesn't mean I can't have a life. Maybe someday I will want to remarry, but that's a long way off.”

Even as Jean said the words, she knew she'd never let go of Will enough to allow room for another man. Fighting tears, she straightened her spine and threw back her shoulders. “My private life is my own. If I wish to be friends with Mr. Townsend, then I will be. Your hatred will not spill over into this family. And from this point on, you will respect him whenever he is in our home.” Luke didn't respond. “Is that understood?”

“Yeah. Understood.”

Jean wished she could do something to root out Luke's bitterness before it destroyed him and drove a permanent wedge between them.
Since coming to Alaska, Jean had lost two loved ones. As she now watched her angry son, she feared she risked losing another. It was out of her hands.
She
couldn't do anything to change his heart. It was between him and God.

“I love you,” Jean said, but Luke wouldn't even look at her. Disheartened, she turned and left his room.

Chapter 18

TRUCK HEADLIGHTS CUT THROUGH EARLY MORNING DARKNESS AS ADAM AND Laurel bumped down the Hasper driveway. Adam stopped and shifted into park. “Well, they're up. The lights are burning.”

“I'll go in,” Laurel offered, opening the door and stepping out.

Brian was spooning in a mouthful of hot oatmeal. “I'm ready,” he said, leaving the table and heading for the back door.

“I'll be there in a minute,” Laurel said as he disappeared through the door. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning,” Jean said, meeting Laurel and giving her a quick hug. “It's awful early to be heading out, don't you think?”

“You know how it is. You can never count on the roads, and we want to get to Anchorage early enough to do our shopping and still have time for some exploring.”

“Keep a close eye on Brian. You know how rambunctious he can be.”

“I will. Don't worry.”

“I can't help it. Seems these days, he's looking for trouble.” Jean handed Laurel a bag. “He'll probably need a change of clothes, especially if you go to the beach.”

“I hope the weather holds so we can.”

“Come on! Let's go!” Brian called, sticking his head in the door.

Laurel hugged her mother again. “We'll take good care of him.”

Unable to hide her worry, Jean said, “I know you will. Seems I'm such a worrywart these days, ever since your father died.”

Still in her nightdress, Susie walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Laurel.”

Laurel bent and kissed the little girl. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Can I go?”

“When you're bigger,” Jean said, resting a hand on the little girl's blonde tangles.

“She can come if she wants,” Laurel whispered. “We don't mind.”

“No. She's too little.” Jean shielded Susie with her hand as if Laurel might snatch her.

Unable to hide her disappointment, Laurel said, “All right. Another time. We better get going. It's a long drive. Does Brian need anything?”

“He's outgrown his school shoes.” Jean shook her head. “His feet are growing faster than the rest of him. I gave him money for new shoes.”

“Come on!” Brian called again, swinging the door wide.

Laurel chuckled. “Well, we're off.”

Although the road was rutted and made for a bumpy ride, the trip into Anchorage was uneventful. Laurel was thankful she wasn't further along in her pregnancy because the trip would have been miserable. Still, it was a relief when they arrived and Adam parked on the main street. Stepping out, hands pressed against the small of her back, Laurel stretched from side to side.

“Your back hurting?” Adam asked.

“A little. The doctor said it's normal, but forty miles in that truck didn't help.”

“Wish we could afford the train.”

Brian stared at his sister's rounded abdomen. “How long until the baby gets here?”

“Three months or so. Not 'til the end of December.”

Brian's eyes widened. “Three more months? How big is it going to get?”

Laurel rested her hand on her stomach. “Pretty big.”

“How does it fit inside you?”

Laurel shrugged. “I don't know. It just does.” She smiled and rubbed her back again.

Adam took her hand. “Do you want to rest first?”

“No, I need to walk.” She tucked her arm into Adam's. “I hope we find a crib.”

“Don't forget, I'm getting shoes,” Brian said.

“We won't forget,” Adam said, glancing down the street crowded with parked cars. “I guess we just start at one end and work our way down.”

“Are we still going to the beach for a picnic?” Brian asked.

“Absolutely,” Adam said.

They started down the street, stopping to gaze at apparel displayed behind large glass casements. When they came to a store with shoes, Adam asked, “You want to go in and see what they have?”

“Yep,” Brian said, opening the door and walking in.

The shop was narrow and deep, with rows of shoes all along the side walls and down the center. “I've never seen so many shoes,” Brian said, picking up a pair of oxfords.

Adam headed for the back of the store and stopped when he came to the children's department. Brian and Laurel followed. Brian picked up one shoe, then another and another. After he'd examined several pairs, Adam asked, “Do you see anything you like?”

Brian thought a minute, his eyes roaming over the racks. “Can I try this one?” he asked, picking up a boot-type shoe.

A young man wearing an inexpensive suit approached. He smiled, exposing a large space between his front teeth. “Would you like to try that one?”

Brian glanced at Adam, and when Adam nodded, he said, “Yep.”

“Sit down and I'll measure your foot.”

Brian sat on a chair with a padded seat and a straight back. The clerk removed his well-worn shoes and placed Brian's foot on a wooden ruler with a curved bracket on the back end and a straight one on the other. “Press your heel against the back,” the man said and slid the front bracket to Brian's toes. “Looks like you wear an eight.” He stood.

“I'll see if we have a pair in that size.” The clerk disappeared through a door, then reappeared a few moments later with a box. “Let's try these,” he said, opening the box and squatting in front of Brian. After sliding the shoes onto Brian's feet, he tied them and said, “Give those a try. See how they feel.”

Brian stood and tromped around the store, jumping a couple of times to make sure of the fit. He stared at his feet. “I like them.”

“Let me check,” Laurel said and kneeled in front of him. She pushed on the toe of the shoe. “Feels like there's room to grow.” She looked at the salesman. “How much?”

“One dollar and fifty cents.”

Brian walked some more. “Can I get them?”

“They fit. You sure those are the ones you want?”

“Yep. Can I wear them?”

“No. They're for school.”

Frowning, Brian dropped onto a chair, then pulled them off and replaced them with his old shoes. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a dollar bill and twenty cents change. “Is this enough?” He laid the money on the counter.

The clerk counted the change. “You need thirty cents more.” He looked at Adam.

“I've got it.” Adam retrieved several coins from his pocket, counted out thirty cents, and handed it to the salesman.

“Thank you,” the young man said and rang up the purchase on a cash register. Placing the shoes in a bag, he asked, “Anything else I can do for you?” He handed the package to Adam.

“No. That'll do us fine.” Adam gave the bag to Brian.

He hugged it against his chest. “Do you think Mama will like these?”

“Yes, I do,” Laurel said. “They're good, sturdy shoes.”

With an air of satisfaction, Brian headed for the door and stepped out into the cool air. He walked down the street while Laurel and Adam followed, hands clasped.

Brian kept walking, but Laurel stopped at a window display to look at a wicker bassinet draped with a downy blanket. “Isn't it beautiful?” she said, hugging Adam's arm. “Let's go in.”

“Hey, Brian, wait,” Adam called. “We're going in here.”

Brian turned and walked back, following Adam and Laurel inside.

A smiling clerk with short red curls and red-painted lips approached. “Good morning. What can I do for you?” she asked. Her voice reminded Laurel of a trilling bird. The woman glanced at Laurel's stomach. “How much longer?”

“Three months.”

“A Christmas baby. How wonderful!”

Laurel looked toward the back of the store. “Do you have cribs?”

“We certainly do. We pride ourselves on carrying a full line of infant products, including furniture.” She turned sharply on two-inch heels, and taking short, quick steps, pranced down an aisle. Laurel, Adam, and
Brian followed. “We have the latest models.” The clerk stopped at a white enamel crib and rested a hand on the side rail. “As you can see, the workmanship is good, and it is reasonably priced.”

“How much is it?” Laurel asked.

She reached out and flipped a small tag. “Only $ 12.45,” she said with an overdone smile.

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