Worthy of Riches (39 page)

“So, I suppose Luke's working from daylight to dark these days,” Ray said.

“Even at this time of year we don't seem to have enough daylight. In fact, I ought to feel guilty for being here. I shouldn't be goofing off.”

“You're working,” Ray said with a grin. “You now have more fish to hang in your smokehouse.”

“It doesn't feel like work.” Wind caught Jean's hair and whipped it across her face. She pushed it back. “Most of the planting is done, thanks to Adam and the fellows you sent over.”

Ray took another drink of water and climbed to the back of the boat. “And how's Luke?”

“Fine, I guess, but if you're asking how he feels about you … well, nothing's changed.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

A wave slammed against the boat, splashing over the sides. The clouds had turned dark.

“Weather's changing fast,” Jean said, unable to disguise her anxiety.

“We better get a move on.” Ray started the engine and pointed the bow toward Anchorage.

They'd barely started back when the rain started and the wind picked up. Waves rolled close together and dipped into deep troughs. The small dory rocked wildly and dropped to the bottom of watery valleys. Jean gripped the wooden bench, certain they would capsize at any moment.

Ray reached under his seat, pulled out a raincoat, and tossed it to her. “Put it on.” He didn't bother with one for himself but gripped the rudder handle. “I know a place where we can hold up until the storm passes,” he called over the wailing wind. He steered toward the mouth of the Susitna.

As they entered the river, the waves became more erratic and choppy, and the dory bounced violently. Jean prayed.
Brian and Susie need me. They've lost so much already, Father. Please, not now.

Finally they cleared the chop and entered the calmer waters of the river. “Where are we going?” Jean asked.

“About a mile inland there are a couple of small cabins. The seal hunters use them during the season.”

Meadows of tall grasses spread out away from the river. As they moved inland, alder thickets replaced the fields. Ray steered toward a clearing. Maneuvering the boat into the shallows, he jumped out and pulled the dory to shore.

“How did you know about this place?” Jean asked, pulling her hood around her face to shut out the wind.

“I've been here a lot of years, remember?” He chuckled. “In the winter you can get here by dogsled.” He offered his hand to Jean and steadied her as she climbed out. “The cabins ought to keep us warm for the night,” he said, grabbing a pack.

“The night? You mean we're going to be here all night?”

“This storm isn't going to let up anytime soon.”

“My family will worry.”

Ray headed up a trail leading away from the river and stopped in front of two tiny cabins standing side by side. A canoe lay alongside one, and each had a single window in front and a smokestack protruding from its roof. Wood was stacked alongside one cabin.

“Not much,” Ray said, “but it'll do.” He peeked inside one, then walked in. Jean followed. It seemed even smaller from the inside, measuring approximately ten feet by eight feet. A small wood stove stood in one corner, and a wooden bench sat beneath the only window.

Ray walked back outside, then returned a few moments later with an armload of wood. “We can be thankful for whoever was here before us. The person left a supply of firewood.” He set the split birch and alder on the floor beside the stove and took a newspaper from a stack along the wall. He crumpled it and shoved it in the stove, then added kindling. Retrieving matches out of his pack, he lit the paper, and soon a small blaze crackled. He added larger pieces of wood and closed the cast iron door. “That'll do it.”

After sharing what was left of their lunch, Ray and Jean sat on the floor and settled into a comfortable silence. Burning wood crackled and popped, and the cabin turned warm.

A burst of wind swept over the cabin. “What would we have done if these cabins hadn't been here?” Jean asked, glancing at the window.

“We'd be sleeping under the trees, trying to keep from shivering our teeth loose.” Ray grinned. “Or we would have sheltered under the boat. I've done that before.”

“You've done just about everything.”

“And more,” Ray said.

“Do you think we'll be able to leave in the morning? My family will be frantic.”

“Probably.” Ray leaned his back against the wall. “Don't worry about your family. Celeste will know where we are, and she'll tell them.”

Jean hugged her knees. “Do you think it's this bad in the valley?”

“Maybe. We get some strong storms rolling through.”

“The crops won't stand up to this kind of beating.”

“It's early in the season. Could you replant?”

Jean looked at Ray. “I haven't been completely honest with you about the farm. We don't have enough money for replanting. Even with a good crop, I don't know if I can hang on to it. Luke's talking about joining the navy as soon as he's eighteen. That's only six months from now.”

“You think he'll leave in the middle of winter? I thought he was all excited about running the farm.”

“He was, but ever since Alex died, he hasn't been the same. He blames Alaska and wants to leave.” She shrugged. “Even if it means I lose the farm, I think it's good for him to get away.” A sharp pop reverberated from the stove. “I've been thinking about moving.”

“Where to?”

“I don't know. I want to be close to Laurel and Adam and William. I was thinking maybe Anchorage. Maybe I could find a job. I've also thought about Wisconsin—work is more plentiful there, but the people I care about are here.”

“I thought you were working at the store.”

“I am, but it's not enough. And as long as I live on the farm, I have an obligation to work it. That's part of the contract Will and I signed.”

Ray pushed to his feet and walked to the window. He watched the storm. “I've never been a real farmer, but I liked the work I did for you. It's good, honest labor.” He turned and looked at Jean. “I know I'm not Will. I've prayed and wished I were. I've even tried to make myself like
him, but I'm not.” Jean started to say something, but Ray raised his hand. “Let me finish.

“God's been working on me, helping me become a better Ray Townsend. My temper's not so bad as it was; I'm steadier, not so quick to fly off the handle.” He offered a sideways grin. “I doubt I'll ever be a quiet man, but I'm working on it.”

He pressed his palms together, then swiped a hand through his dark curls. “I can't replace Will, and I don't expect you to love me, but I could be a real help to you and the children.” He didn't look at Jean. “I was thinking … maybe I could move in to your place and work it full time.” His eyes met Jean's. “With Luke leaving, there won't be a problem between him and me.”

Jean stopped breathing. Was Ray asking her to marry him, or was he just saying he'd live at the farm to help out? “Oh, I don't know. Luke would be awfully upset.”

“Jean, you can't live your life according to what your son wants.”

“I know, but he is my flesh and blood. I have to think about his feelings.” She added wood to the fire. What should she do? She didn't want a marriage of convenience, but Ray might be the only way she could stay in Alaska. Could she love him? She liked him and respected him. Was that enough? Obviously he didn't love her, or he would have said so.
It's the children he loves,
Jean decided.
And Ellie. 'Course, I still love Will. That will never change.

Ray waited.

Jean knew she needed to say something. Finally she said, “I'll think about it. That's all I can do for now. I promise to think about it.”

WAKEFULNESS PULLED AT JEAN, BUT SHE WANTED TO LINGER. SHE AND WILL stood together beside the barn. He was tall and handsome; she could feel her heart pounding. Will took something from his pocket; it was a ring. She'd known it would be. They'd been so young, so in love.

The smell of coffee cut into Jean's dream.
No. Let me stay a little longer.

A
door closed, and daylight pressed against her eyes. She rolled to her side and remembered she was sleeping on the floor.
Oh yes, the storm.
Jean opened her eyes and found Ray sitting on the bench looking at her.

“Morning,” he said.

She pushed herself up on one elbow. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“Yep.” He sipped from a cup. “Found it in the other cabin. I also found some powdered milk and dishes. I heated the milk.” He nodded toward the stove. “It's still warm.”

Sitting all the way up, Jean combed her hair with her fingers. “I hate warm milk,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “But coffee sounds good.”

“You should drink some of the milk. It'll fill you up. A marauder took our fish.”

“What? Oh, no.”

“I should have been more careful.”

Jean pulled her blanket around her. “What do you think it was?”

“Any number of critters—fox, wolf… a bear.”

Unable to keep herself from looking, Jean glanced at the window. The idea of a bear prowling around while they slept was unsettling. Her stomach rumbled. “I guess I'll try the milk, but I won't like it.”

Ray grinned. “You never know. 'Course, I could catch us another fish.”

“Are we staying?”

“No, going. The storm's moved on. It's a little breezy, but we ought to do all right.” He held out half an apple. “I found this in my coat pocket. I ate part of it.”

“Thanks.” Jean took the apple and bit into it. “We can't take time to fish. My family will be worried.” She headed for the stove, and tucking the apple between her arm and her side, she poured warm milk into a cup. Sitting on the bench beside Ray, she took a sip and made a face.

“Try taking a bite of apple with it.”

Jean took a bite, then a drink. Swallowing, she said, “Better, but still not good. I'd rather enjoy the apple,” she said, taking a big swig of milk followed by a shudder. Looking at the bottom of her cup, she said, “I'll add coffee to the rest of this.”

Ray laughed. “You do beat all.”

Warmed by his laughter, Jean walked to the stove and filled the cup with coffee. She stared out the window. “The wind is still gusting. You sure it's all right to head back?”

“Yeah. There'll be some chop, but the boat's sturdy. We ought to be fine.

“Laurel and Luke must be worried sick.”

“I'm sure Celeste is with them. She'll set 'em straight. Like I said, I'm sure she's figured out where we are.” His voice gentle, Ray caught hold of Jean's hand. “Try not to worry.”

The contact was unexpected, and Jean flinched. Ray let go immediately. “Sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, it's fine. I just didn't expect it, that's all.” Jean hated the wounded expression in Ray's eyes. She didn't want to hurt him. “I'm not offended, and it's not that I find it—”

“No. It's nothing. Don't worry about it,” he said brusquely and crossed the room. Picking up two blankets at once, he said, “We better get going.” He stuffed the blankets into the duffel bag.

Jean finished her coffee and the apple, then gathered up her things, puzzling over her reaction to Ray's touch. Nothing was wrong with it. Why had she reacted so negatively?

Ray headed out the door with the duffel bag. “Let's get a move on,” he said, his gentle mood gone.

The trip across the inlet was silent and strained. The seas were rough, and Jean prayed they wouldn't have to turn back. She couldn't face another night alone with Ray.

Keeping her eyes trained on the distant shoreline, she was thankful the rough waters kept Ray distracted. That way they didn't have to talk. What could she say to his proposal? She didn't even know just exactly what he was proposing.

They'd been enemies, then friends, and now … what were they now? If he wanted to marry her, would they become lovers? Husbands and wives generally were. Was he suggesting they marry and simply live a life of convenience? Or did he just mean to move onto the farm and be a help to her family? She imagined the embarrassment when she'd have to ask him to explain.

If he were suggesting marriage, how did she feel about it? The idea wasn't unpleasant. Was it possible for her to love someone other than Will? In so many ways he was still with her, and she'd never stop loving him. Wasn't that unfair to Ray? Brian and Susie would be ecstatic. They loved Ray. Luke, however, was another matter. She could barely bring herself to think what his reaction would be. What if he was angry enough to walk away for good?

Jean breathed a sigh of relief when the boat glided up to the pier. Ray climbed out, tied the dory, and offered Jean a hand. His grip was strong and sure.
Just like him,
she thought, her mind touching on the image of him as a marriage partner. She could never marry for convenience. Standing on the dock, she said, “It's good to be back.”

“We've still got a long drive ahead of us.” He started unloading their gear.

They headed for Palmer, and weariness settled over Jean. She longed for the quiet of her room and time to sort out her thoughts. She glanced at Ray. His big hands gripped the steering wheel; his eyes stared straight ahead. Maybe now was a good time to ask him what he'd meant when he'd talked about helping her and the kids.

“I'll bet Luke's hotter than an angry yellow jacket,” Ray said, flashing Jean a smile. “I don't suppose we could hope he's not there.”

“No. I'm sure he's home … and waiting.” The thought of facing her fuming son made Jean's stomach turn.

Ray reached across the seat and patted Jean's hand. “Don't worry. I'll handle everything. Luke knows things can happen. He's been here long enough to understand.”

“He knows, all right. He just doesn't want any adventures that include you.”

“Not all adventures are bad.” Ray chuckled.

Jean was glad things were back to normal between her and Ray. Maybe she wouldn't have to decide anything for a while.

Quiet settled over the cab, and Jean was content to watch the scenery move past the window. As they approached home, her stomach growled loudly. Pressing a hand against her abdomen, she said, “I'm starved. I'm sure you are too. Would you like to stay for supper?”