Valley of promises, p.22
Valley of Promises, page 22
“A cup of tea does sound good. Might warm me up a bit.” Jessie peeked into the front room, then sat at the kitchen table. “You've made this into a real nice home.”
“Thank you,” Jean said.
“We have three bedrooms—two upstairs and one down,” Brian bragged.
“And we have a washing machine on our back porch.”
Jessie smiled at the boy. “Your daddy must be a good carpenter.”
“He is.”
Steps sounded from the staircase, and a moment later Luke walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Jessie. Good to see you.”
“Luke, how are you?”
“Good. Been doin' a lot of hunting.”
“Yeah, he shot the rabbit we're eatin' today,” Brian said.
“So, you're a pretty good shot?” Jessie asked.
“Not bad. Alex has been giving me some tips. He's got a lot more experience than me. He's gonna show me and Dad how to run a trapline.”
“Good idea. There's always a market for furs.”
Jean set a cup of tea on the table in front of Jessie. “Would you like sugar?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Jessie scanned the room. “You've done really well for yourselves. You can be proud of your accomplishments. It's not easy to move to a new home and start over, especially one in the wilderness.”
“I wish everyone felt like you,” Laurel said, sitting at the end of the table. “Some of the homesteaders still don't think we can make it and want us to leave.”
Jean set a bowl of sugar and a spoon on the table.
Jessie dipped out a half teaspoon of sugar and sifted it into her cup. Stirring, she said, “Not everyone feels like that, and more are coming around every day. Don't give up.”
Laurel nodded. Ray Townsend, however, seemed to be getting worse. Celeste now had to make excuses to see her.
“Robert's here!” Brian shouted, running for the back door. He flung it open wide and jumped into his big friend's arms.
Robert picked up the little boy and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Howdy, young man. Are you still full of goose feathers?”
Brian giggled and kicked his feet.
Joanna carried a pie. “Mama thought you might like this,” she said, handing the pastry to Jean.
“Thank you.” She smelled the warm pie. “Mincemeat?”
“Yep. I helped bake it,” thirteen-year-old Veronica said, joining the group in the kitchen. “Hope you like it.” She smiled, brown eyes sparkling and a deep dimple creasing her right cheek.
“I'm sure we will.” Jean set the pie in the warmer alongside Jessie's.
Patricia Lundeen walked in, hung up her coat, then greeted every one of the Haspers with a friendly hug. She smiled, plump cheeks red from the cold. “I'm awfully glad we live close. I'd hate to think what it would be like to travel far in this weather.”
“You girls go play and stay out of trouble,” Patricia cautioned.
Sixteen-year-old Joanna flung a dark braid off her shoulder. “Mama, we're not babies.”
“Oh, of course, I forgot for a moment,” Patricia said with a wink at Jean.
The women settled at the table while the men headed for the barn. “What is it that men do in barns anyway?” Jessie asked.
Laurel opened a jar of string beans. “I've no idea, but they spend hours doing it.”
“I think they talk about farming and politics. It's a place to get away from the women.” Jean sprinkled brown sugar over a pan of sweet potatoes. With a wicked smile, she said, “I splurged and bought marshmallows. We'd decided to buy only necessities, but this is a special occasion.”
“Oh, I know what you mean,” Patricia said. “We're trying to be careful, too, but our debt is still growing faster than we planned.”
“Daddy will love the marshmallows,” Laurel said, hoping to reassure her mother.
Jean slid the sweet potatoes onto the oven rack beside the meat. Heat and the aroma of roasting moose and rabbit drifted through the room.
“Oh, that smells heavenly,” Jessie said. “My mouth is watering, and my stomach's growling.”
A gust of wind shook the house, moaning as it blew beneath the eaves. “Sounds like it's getting worse,” Patricia said a little nervously. “I heard we're supposed to have a hard winter. Makes me uneasy. I don't know what to expect.” She finished peeling a carrot and set it in a pot.
“Winter can be rough,” Jessie said. “Some years we had snow up to the rooftops. Sometimes we got very little snow, but then ended up with real cold temperatures. I'll take the snow any day.”
Jean sifted flour into a bowl, added baking powder and salt, then mixed in lard, eggs, and milk. “I'm sure we'll be fine. These are good, solid houses. The pantry is full, and so is the root cellar.”
“I'm sure you're right,” Patricia said. “I'm probably worrying over nothing. That's my way.”
After patting out the dough, Jean cut it into hefty biscuits. Setting them on two baking sheets, she opened the oven door and checked the roasting game. “The meat's done. All we have to do now is wait on the sweet potatoes, and cook the carrots and biscuits.”
“Here are the carrots,” said Jessie, handing Jean the pot.
Covering the vegetables with water, Jean placed a lid on the pan and set it on the stove to cook. “Laurel, could you set the table?” She added wood to the fire. “I'll check on those men.”
“Sure, Mama.”
An extra leaf was placed in the table, chairs were brought from the living room, and the food was set out. Will sat at the head of the table. “A real feast,” he said as everyone found a place to sit. He looked at the expectant faces about the table. “We have much to be thankful for. I thought that on this special Thanksgiving we should each share our gratitude.” He squeezed Jean's hand. “Would you like to begin, and I'll finish?”
Jean smiled and nodded. “There's so much.” Her eyes filled with tears. She paused, trying to compose herself. “I thank God for my new home, and for my family. I'm grateful we're all able to be here, all except Justin.” She glanced at Will. “But I praise God for taking such good care of our little boy. I'm sure this is a special Thanksgiving for him too.” Using a corner of her apron, she dabbed at her eyes. “There's no place sweeter than in the arms of Jesus. And I'm sure that's where he is.”
Heads nodded; several shed tears.
Luke was next. “I'm thankful for this terrific place to live. I love it here. And I love to hunt and fish. I'm thankful for that.”
Joanna smiled shyly, then said, “I'm glad we get to live on our new farm and that we're safe.”
Veronica glanced at her mother. “I thank God for giving me a wonderful mother.”
Eyes shimmering, Patricia squeezed her daughter's hand. “I praise God for all my children and for the wonderful comfort they've been to me since their father died and for everything they do for me. I couldn't have made it without all of you. And I thank God for giving Robert a heart so like his father's. He had a vision of what could be, and that's why we're here.”
Jessie looked thin and small beside Patricia. She didn't speak right away but glanced at each person sitting around the table, her face serene as usual. “The Lord knows I've been on my own for many years, and sometimes it's lonely. But he always brings special people into our lives when we need them. Since I met Laurel, I've been given a whole new family, and I'm thankful for her and for all of you.”
Robert was next. He glanced at his sisters and mother, then smiled at Laurel. “I'm grateful for special friends, too, and for a new beginning and the promise that God will see us through, no matter what hardship we face.”
Brian grinned up at Robert, then at his mother. “I guess I'm most grateful for good food and for my daddy who hunts so we can have it and my mama who cooks.” Jean and Will both smiled.
It was Laurel's turn next. She'd been trying to sort out what she should say. She had so much to be thankful for. She cleared her throat. “I thank God that I had a change of heart about Alaska. I'm grateful he gave me what I needed instead of what I wanted. I didn't know when I left Wisconsin that I'd love this place. I fought and kicked, but God kept his hand on me, and now this is home, and I thank him for his wisdom and his steadfastness.”
Will bowed his head, and the others did the same. “I have so much to thank you for, Father—my family, this farm, good friends, a new beginning, and plenty to eat, but most of all, I want to thank you for your promise of a future. You always give us hope. The world says no, but you say yes; the world says quit, but you say carry on; the world says justice, but you say grace. You are our courage and strength. We cannot fail with you at our side.”
He paused. “Lord, you know there are two special people who aren't with us today. Our Justin is with you.” He was silent a moment. “And then there is Adam. He's across the sea in a place where frightening changes are taking place and maybe even war. We ask you to keep your hand on him and bring him back to this valley where he belongs.”
Laurel looked up. Where he belongs? She glanced at her father. His head was bowed, eyes closed.
“And, Father, please continue to hold each of us in your hand; help us to value and respect one another. I think especially about the people in this valley who are filled with fear and hate. Show them a better way, Father. And help each of us to seek you in all we do. Amen.” He looked up and smiled. “It's been a good year. We've worked hard. I'm hungry.” Spearing a piece of meat, he held out his hand for a plate and asked, “Who's first?”
The meal was filled with compliments, good conversation, and laughter. After the feast, the pies were sliced and served. The children quickly devoured dessert. The storm had quieted, so they donned their coats and mittens and ran out into a white world to play.
Will, Robert, and Luke retired to the living room and the radio while the women cleared the table and washed the dishes. Laurel walked into the front room to see if anyone wanted a refill on coffee, but instead she stood in the doorway and listened to the radio. Jack Benny's familiar line, “Now cut that out,” made everyone laugh. Robert looked up and winked at her. Laurel couldn't help but smile. “Anyone want more coffee?” she asked.
“None for me,” Will said. “I couldn't fit in another drop.” He patted his stomach.
“I'd like some.” Robert stood and joined Laurel. “That was a fine meal. Thank you.”
“My mother did most of it. I just helped.”
“Well, thanks anyway.” He held out his cup, and Laurel filled it. “Good coffee too,” he said, taking a sip.
“I did make that. I learned from my father. He never thought Mama made the coffee strong enough, so he started making it when I was just a girl. One day he showed me how, and I've been doing it ever since. Some people think it's too strong.”
“No, I like it. It's just right.”
Replacing the pot on the stove, Laurel glanced at Robert. He was handsome—tall, with dark brown eyes and hair. He had an easy comfortable smile, and although reserved, his quietness never came across as arrogance. She liked him. He'd make a good husband, she told herself.
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
Laurel was wrapped up in her thoughts and didn't hear. “Did you say something?”
Robert smiled. “I thought you looked as if you were off somewhere else.”
If he only knew.
“I asked if you'd like to take a walk.”
“Sure,” Laurel said, not exactly certain she wanted to be alone with Robert. He helped her with her coat, and Laurel wondered if she were being disloyal to Celeste, who was crazy about Robert. Laurel hooked the buttons, pulled the hood over her head, and pushed her hands into fur-lined leather gloves.
Robert opened the door and held it for Laurel. She stepped out onto the open porch. Cold air chilled her face and stung her lungs with each breath. The children were building a snowman and barely noticed them.
Snow crunched beneath their boots as Robert and Laurel walked toward the road. The world was white—snow blanketed fields, trees, the plow, and the wood shed, and the nearby mountains were buried. The landscape shimmered in winter's dusky sunlight. “I never thought about how bright snow could make the world look,” Laurel said. “I always envisioned winter here as being dark. I love how it's all frozen and white. It's beautiful.”
“I like it too.” Robert linked arms with Laurel.
She felt a bit awkward. Was it wrong to allow Robert to think she might care for him? Maybe she did.
Robert pointed toward his farm. “My barn looks awfully small from here.”
“That's because everything around it is so big—the mountains and the sky.” She shook her head slightly. “I never understood how it would be to love a place so much. It's strange because I haven't lived here very long, but I don't ever want to leave.”
“That's how I felt from the beginning, like I belong here. I'm never leaving,” he stated flatly. Robert stopped walking and faced Laurel. “I know you're not interested in any kind of serious attachment, Laurel … but I was wondering … if you'd mind going to the dance with me tomorrow night at the community hall? It should be fun.”
Laurel's first instinct was to say no. But what would be wrong with going to a dance with a friend? She let out her breath, and icy fog hovered between them. She remembered Adam's tender farewell and wondered if it held a promise? No. He has his life, and it doesn't include me.
She looked at Robert. “Yes. I'd like to go with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
SOMETHING SIMPLE, LAUREL THOUGHT, SORTING THROUGH HER FEW DRESSES. She stopped at a light blue cotton. It had a scoop neckline, short sleeves, and a full skirt. Lifting it, she studied the dress. This should work, she decided, taking it off the hanger. I don't want Robert to get the wrong idea.
Pushing her arms into the sleeves, she pulled it over her head and smoothed the skirt over her hips. Standing in front of a full-length mirror, she studied her reflection. The pale blue softened her golden complexion and brightened her hazel eyes. Laurel pirouetted, and the skirt flared away from her legs. It would be perfect for dancing. She smiled, pleased with her choice—nice, but not too dressy.
Oddly, she was excited about going out. It's only Robert, she told herself, brushing her hair and clipping back a portion.
She smoothed a touch of rouge on her cheeks, then carefully applied a hint of lipstick. Standing back, she surveyed the effect and decided she liked it. Staring at her reflection, she reminded herself, It's only Robert. But Laurel knew things had changed. She'd decided to make room for him in her heart. It was the reasonable thing to do.
Adam's letter rested against the mirror on the bureau. Laurel picked it up and considered rereading it. She'd already read it several times and could recite much of it. She set it back on the dresser.
A soft rap sounded at the door. “Laurel? May I come in?” her mother asked.
“Yes.” The door opened, and warm air from downstairs flowed in. Laurel had forgotten how cool the room was.
Jean stepped in, closing the door behind her. “You look beautiful. Since you took to wearing those overalls, it's easy to forget you've grown into a lovely woman.” Jean smiled. “I just came up to tell you Robert's here, and I must say he looks awfully handsome. You know, he's such a fine young man. I'm happy you two decided to go out.”
Laurel knew her parents considered Robert a perfect match for her. Holding her arms away from her sides, she turned around and asked, “This blue look all right?”
“Yes. It's perfect. Robert will love it.” Jean glanced at Laurel's legs. “Are you sure you want to wear silk stockings? It's cold. Maybe your wool hose would be better?”
“No one else will be wearing them. It'll be warm enough indoors. I can put a blanket over my lap in the truck.”
Jean nodded. “Well, I don't think you ought to keep Robert waiting.”
Laurel grabbed her handbag from the dresser and followed her mother out the door and down the stairs.
Robert stood in the front room, hands in his pockets, his coat draped over one arm. He looked stylish, dressed in knit slacks and a sweater. His eyes followed Laurel down the stairs. “You look real pretty,” he said when Laurel took the last step.
“Thank you.”
Will set his newspaper on a table beside his wing chair. “You two be careful. The roads are icy.” He looked at Robert. “What time can we expect you to have Laurel home?”
“The dance is over at ten o'clock, sir.”
“All right then. You ought to be back here by ten-thirty.” Will smiled, softening his decree.
“I'll have her home on time,” Robert assured him, putting on his coat. “You ready?” he asked Laurel.
“Yes. I just have to get my coat and boots.” Laurel headed for the back porch. Sitting on a bench by the door, she pulled a pair of galoshes over her pumps, then took down her coat from its hook. Robert held it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. After putting on knit gloves, she gave her mother a kiss.
“Have a good time,” Jean said, handing Laurel a lap blanket.
“We will,” Laurel promised and stepped outside.
“Goodnight, Mrs. Hasper,” Robert said.
“Night.” Jean stood at the door and watched as the truck headed down the driveway.
The cold ran icy fingers up and down Laurel's bare legs. She shivered, and thinking she'd been foolish to wear silk stockings, laid the blanket over her lap.
Robert peered through a small section of cleared glass in the iced-up window. Weak headlights illuminated nearly imperceptible tire tracks in the snow. The pickup bumped over the rough, frozen roadway, snow and ice crunching beneath its tires.
“I wish we'd been able to bring our truck. Life would be simpler. Right now, just getting back and forth to town is a problem.”
“God blessed me with this one. Mr. Sherstead and I made a trade. It was perfect timing, finding out he needed mending done and a part-time farmhand. Mama's patching his clothes, and I'm working for him when he needs me.” They dropped into a rut. They ground their way free and Robert chuckled. “But I'm not convinced it's any faster than walking.” He concentrated on driving, and the interior of the cab fell quiet.
