Valley of promises, p.24
Valley of Promises, page 24
Laurel sat across from her.
With a cup cradled in her hands, Jessie gazed out the window. “In spite of my winter gloomies, I wouldn't live anywhere else. Alaska is wonderful and awful, but it's real. Here, the cycles of life are fleeting but breathe vitality.”
“Are you ever homesick for California?”
Jessie smiled whimsically. “Sometimes. Mostly what I miss is my youth.” Her eyes sparkled. “I was quite lively and daring in my heyday, always searching for a new challenge.”
She took a drink. “I was the only one in my family to go to college. In those days women became homemakers. My parents were proud of my achievements and encouraged me to go ahead with my education. I met Steward at the university. We were both majoring in history. The first time I met him he was studying for a final in the library. He looked up at me over his round, wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes so serious. I was smitten.” She chuckled.
She looked at Laurel as if she'd forgotten anyone was there. “Oh, dear. I've gotten completely off track. Now, what was your question?”
“I just wondered if you missed your life in California.”
“I guess I'd have to say no. My best years have been here in Alaska. The people welcomed us from the beginning.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
“Good things aren't always easy.” Jessie set her cup on the table beside her chair. “Would you like to see my latest painting? I took a stab at a winter scene.”
“I'd love to.” Laurel drained the last of her chocolate and set the cup on a scratched end table.
Jessie pushed herself out of her chair, motioned for Laurel to follow, and hobbled to the back room. “These old bones don't like the cold.” She opened the door and stepped into a chilly room. “I'd better leave that door open if I want to sleep tonight,” Jessie said, shuffling to an easel beneath the window. “It's right here.” She stood back and looked at the picture. “What do you think?”
Laurel's breath caught as she gazed at a scene of the snow-buried mountains that framed the valley. A frozen stream like shimmering glass meandered through foothills of frozen trees, bushes hugging its mounded banks. An abandoned barn stood at the base of a mountain, looking lonely amid the white expanse. A craggy peak scarred with dark fractures and rocky outcroppings rose up behind it. “Jessie, you're amazing! I feel as if I'm standing right there.”
Jessie beamed. “Thank you. When it's dry, you can have it.”
“Have it?” Laurel looked at the painting with new eyes. “Are you sure? It's so beautiful.”
“Absolutely.” She glanced out the window. “The snow's coming down harder. You better scoot on home.”
Laurel bundled into her coat, pulled her hood tight around her face, and pushed her hands into her gloves. Standing at the door, she said, “I probably won't be back until after Christmas. Mama needs help with the baking, and I've got some projects I need to finish.” She smiled, taking delight in the gift she was making for her mother. “I'm embroidering a handkerchief for Mama. It has a field of wildflowers on it. I got the idea from your paintings.”
“I'm honored,” Jessie said with a smile.
“Luke and Brian aren't hard to buy for, but I don't know what I'm going to do for Daddy. He loves woodworking. He used to make furniture and knickknacks. When we moved, he had to leave his lathe. I'd hoped Luke and Mama and I could put our money together and buy him one, but they're too expensive—fourteen dollars.” She opened the door. “Maybe I can get it next year. Thank goodness for this job or I wouldn't have been able to buy any gifts.”
Jessie smiled, “Steward used to enjoy working with wood. He was quite good.”
“Are you going to the community Christmas party?”
“I thought it was just for the colonists.”
“I guess, but you're like family. You ought to be there.”
“Maybe. I'll see what the weather's like.” She thought a moment. “I s'pose I could bring my famous fudge.”
“That would be wonderful. Hope you'll be there. Bye.”
Wind swirled underneath Laurel's hood and down her neck, making her shiver. She pulled out a wool scarf from her pocket and wrapped it around her face and neck.
Laurel stopped at the post office to check on a package for her mother. Heat radiated from a wood stove. “It's cold,” she said to Millie Wilkerson, the postmistress, taking a moment to warm herself at the stove.
“That's what I've been hearing. I'm not looking forward to walking home.”
Laurel stripped off her gloves and stepped up to the clerk's window. “It's nice and warm in here.”
“I've been keeping that stove stoked,” Mrs. Wilkerson said cheerfully.
The door opened, and Ray Townsend stepped in, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He stripped back his hood, revealing flattened curls and a trimmed beard. His eyes rested on Laurel for a moment. He nodded and closed the door.
Laurel stiffened. Now was her chance.
“Ray,” Mrs. Wilkerson said. “Good to see you.”
He walked up to the counter. “You got anything for me today, Millie?”
Looking a little befuddled, Mrs. Wilkerson said hesitantly, “Laurel was here first, Ray.” She glanced at Laurel. “Is there anything you needed to mail, dear?”
Laurel's mind whirled with all the things she wanted to say to Mr. Townsend. She focused on Mrs. Wilkerson. “No. I'm here to pick up a package for Mama. She's expecting something from Sears and Roebuck.”
Millie smiled, and her pudgy cheeks rounded into apples. “Oh, that's right. Something came in just this morning.” She waddled to the back of the room and picked up two boxes. “How exciting,” she said, her eyes sparkling. She handed the packages to Laurel.
“Christmas gifts—a truck for Brian and a rod and reel for Luke.” Laurel smiled.
Mr. Townsend leaned on the counter. He muttered, “Don't know why any colonist would bother to buy gifts—seems the government and the Sears store have already bought enough.”
He'd said the words quietly and hadn't looked at Laurel, but she knew they were meant for her. She stared at him, outrage mounting. “It's none of our doing that the government and the Sears people are sending gifts. I think it's kind of them since most of the families are too poor to buy much of anything.”
Mr. Townsend stared straight ahead. “I don't begrudge the children their gifts. I just find it a little one-sided. Lots of homesteaders' children won't find anything under their trees Christmas morning.”
Laurel hadn't considered how the gifts might look to the settlers. She'd simply been grateful. “I hadn't thought of that.”
“I'm not surprised. Loafers rarely think of anyone but themselves.”
“Loafers?” Laurel asked, her indignation growing. “Not a one of us is a loafer, Mr. Townsend! My father works harder than any man I know. Farmers don't know what it means to be idle. We're hardworking and just trying to make our way in this world. We have a right to a life just like you!”
Ray Townsend looked at her, and Laurel found herself staring into furious, gray eyes. “Young lady, you ought to talk to your father about manners. It doesn't seem you've been taught any.”
“You're talking to me about manners? You? The mean, contemptible man who hired thugs to beat up an innocent man? Don't talk to me about manners! You don't know the meaning of the word! I don't think you have any scruples at all. Because of you, Robert Lundeen is spending the day in bed. His face is all beat up and he might have broken ribs!”
Mrs. Wilkerson watched, her mouth open and eyes wide.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Ray Townsend said evenly. “I don't even know anyone named Robert Lundeen.”
“You're lying! You know him. He's a friend of Celeste's. You sent those men after him, and you can't convince me otherwise.”
“Think what you like,” he said, then looked at Mrs. Wilkerson. “My mail?”
At first Mrs. Wilkerson just gaped at him, then finally said, “Sorry, Ray, but nothing came in for you.”
“Good day to you,” he said casually as if nothing had taken place and walked out.
Laurel stared after him, still seething. She couldn't remember ever being so angry. Shaking, she pulled on her gloves. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Wilkerson. I … I didn't mean for that to happen.”
“Oh, that's all right, dear. It isn't the first dispute I've witnessed in here.”
Laurel picked up the packages and walked out. Pulling the door closed behind her, she stepped into the cold, swirling snow. She looked up and down the street, searching for Mr. Townsend. He was already gone. She headed for home, anger consuming her Christmas spirit.
That night over dinner, Laurel told her parents about her encounter. Will's face turned grim, but he calmly said, “You can't worry about him. His anger and bitterness have nothing to do with us, and we don't know for sure that he's the one behind the attack on Robert.”
Laurel felt deflated. “I wish we could do something.”
“I feel sorry for the man,” Jean said.
“How can you feel sorry for him after what he did?” Laurel asked.
“From what I heard, he used to be a good man, but he's still grieving over his wife.”
“I don't like him. He looks mean,” Brian said, picking up a string bean with his fingers and putting it in his mouth.
“I do wish we could do something to help the children.” Jean scooted her chair back and walked to the stove. Picking up a pot of coffee, she returned with it, filling Will's cup, then her own. “Laurel? Luke?” Both shook their heads no to the offer. Jean returned the pot to the stove. “Well, the colonists have lots of gifts. Why can't we contribute some to the homesteaders? Our children don't need so much.” She smiled as an idea formulated. “We could invite them to the Christmas party.”
“That's a wonderful idea!” Laurel said. “But how will we get the names and let them know about the party?”
“The one person who knows all the folks in the valley and will be certain to see them is Mrs. Wilkerson. Maybe she'll let us put up a notice in the post office, and I bet she'd be happy to spread the word.”
“Slow down there, Jean,” Will said. “You don't even know if the other colonists want to do this. Both sides have had hard feelings.”
“Of course we'd have to ask them. Isn't there a meeting tomorrow night?”
“Yes,” Will said. “I'll bring it up.”
Although a handful of colonists didn't want to share their gifts, most agreed it was a good idea, so invitations were sent. Laurel returned to the post office a few days later to check on responses.
“I'm sorry, Laurel, but most of the homesteaders said they wouldn't be there,” Mrs. Wilkerson said. She handed Laurel a piece of paper with a short list of names and ages on it.
“Why?”
“A lot of them said something to the effect that they didn't need a handout from outsiders.”
“Oh. Why are they so stubborn?”
Mrs. Wilkerson sorted mail. “They have their pride. And I think that so much has been said about how the colonists are getting a free ride that they're afraid of being accused of the same thing.”
Disheartened, Laurel left the post office and headed for the community building. The Christmas party was scheduled for the next evening, and several people were working on decorations. She walked up the steps to the hall and pulled open the door. Some women were decorating a tree; others were hanging decorations around the room. They stopped and looked at Laurel. She hated to tell them. They'd been hopeful it might mend some of the hard feelings. “I'm sorry, but only a handful of homesteaders will be here.”
“Well, we tried,” Norma Prosser said. “We'll have to do what we can for the ones who are coming. Not all our neighbors are angry. Some of them have been real nice and neighborly.”
The night of the party, the Haspers piled into the back of the Lundeen pickup. Robert's injuries had healed. He'd pitched hay into the bed of the truck and laid out blankets. And now, Brian happily tossed hay into the air.
“Stop it, you little runt,” Luke said. “You're getting hay all over everything.”
Brian didn't take Luke's reprimand seriously. Bracing his hands against the cab, he jumped up and down.
“Brian, sit down,” Will said. “If you're not careful, you'll get bounced out or you'll end up with a frostbitten nose.”
Brian plopped down beside Luke. “Are we almost there?”
Will smiled. “Almost.”
“Hey, Dad,” Luke said. “You're going to be at the dogsled races, aren't you? Alex and I have been practicing. He's good, and King's a great dog—strong and smart. I think we can win.”
“Of course I'll be there. You really think you can win?”
“Yep. We have another week to practice.”
“Maybe I'll give it a try next year,” Will said.
“I wish girls could race,” Laurel said.
Giving Laurel a condescending look, Luke said, “Girls aren't strong enough.”
“And you are? You're barely seventeen.”
“That's enough,” Will said, leveling a disappointed look at Luke. “I think girls ought to be allowed to race.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” Laurel hugged her knees against her chest, trying to hold in warmth. The air was so cold it hurt her lungs and burned her cheeks. She placed gloved hands over her face and breathed into them, warming her face. It helped a little. Then she stared up at the clear night sky. Stars winked out of a black blanket. “Daddy, do you think we'll see the northern lights soon?”
“Maybe. I hope so.”
“Not me,” Robert's sister, Veronica, said. “They sound spooky.”
“I'm not afraid.” Brian shoved his feet under a pile of hay.
“I think the lights would make Christmas perfect,” Laurel said.
The pickup slowed and pulled into the parking area outside the community building. Several cars were already there. Laurel stood and was ready to jump out when she spotted the three men who'd assaulted Robert.
“What's wrong, sugar?” Will lifted her out of the truck.
“Those men,” she said as she pointed. “They're the ones who attacked Robert.”
“I'd say they need a talking to.”
Robert stepped out of the cab.
“Are those the men who beat you up?” Will asked, nodding at the three hoodlums.
“Yeah, that's them.”
“Come on,” Will told Robert, taking a step toward them.
Robert grabbed Will's arm. “Let it go. I don't want any trouble. This is Christmas.”
Will looked at Robert. “You know I'm not a violent man, but these fellas need someone to stand up to them. It'll make it easier on the rest of the colonists.” He took another step. “I'm not going to say much,” he promised, “just enough. Jean, you and the kids go inside. Me, Luke, and Robert got something we need to do.” With Luke on one side and Robert on the other, Will strode toward the three.
The troublemakers straightened and stared at the approaching men.
Will stopped directly in front of them. Luke and Robert stood solidly beside him. Will's eyes moved from one to the other. Finally he said, “If you have a problem with one of us, you've got a problem with all of us.”
“Ooh, I'm afraid,” the redhead, Ted, taunted.
“If you had any wisdom, you would be.”
“Yeah, well we ain't afraid of no outsiders.” Ted spit tobacco juice at Will's feet.
Will glanced at the splatter, then settled his eyes on the young man's. “If I have to, I'll bring in the law.”
Ted pushed his tobacco deeper into his cheek. “You think so?” He looked at his friends and chuckled. “Things ain't the same here as down home on the farm. No one's going to touch us.”
“If that's the case, I'd be happy to deal with you personally.”
“So would I,” Drew Prosser said, joining Will.
“And me,” said Tom Jenkins, stepping up beside Robert.
Ted no longer looked so self-assured. “We didn't do nothin'. This guy's a liar.” He nodded at Robert.
“Sure,” Tom said. He studied the man. “Your daddies would probably be real unhappy to discover you've been causing trouble again. I've been around a good long while, and I know just about everybody in this valley, including your daddies. You'd be smart to skedaddle on home.”
“Yeah, we're goin',” Ted said and walked away, his friends at his side.
Wearing a smile, Robert watched them go. “Seems they've lost some of their bluster.”
“Are those the boys who beat you?” Tom asked.
“Yeah.”
“I don't think you'll have any more trouble with them. They know I'm not one to bluff, and they don't want their fathers knowing what they've been up to.”
“Hope you're right,” Will said. He headed toward the entrance. “Anyway, thanks for the help. How'd you know we were out here?”
“Your wife,” Tom said.
Will clapped Tom on the back. “We've got a party to go to.” He headed for the steps. Will met Laurel midway. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he asked, “You up for a party, sugar?”
“You bet.”
People chatted and laughed. Streamers hung from the ceiling, a Christmas tree stood in one corner with mounds of gifts piled under it, a table crowded with Christmas goodies stood along one wall, and a real live Santa sat in the far corner. A line of children waited to visit him.
Looking around the hall, Laurel felt the warmth of friendship. Only a few months ago, these people met for the first time; yet a bond had already developed between them. Thinking over the last few weeks, Laurel realized she'd allowed the lack of daylight and the conflict between the colonists and homesteaders to steal her joy. Enough is enough, she decided. From now on, I'm going to look at the bright side of things.
She unbuttoned her coat. Robert quickly stepped up and helped her with it, then hung it on a hanger in the closet. “Thank you,” Laurel said, wishing he wouldn't be quite so attentive.
