Valley of promises, p.31
Valley of Promises, page 31
“You're such a romantic.”
“Maybe.”
“Even if I wanted a wedding gown like that, we could never afford it. I don't know what we're going to do. Already there's talk that there won't be buyers for our vegetables.”
Celeste's mouth turned hard. “And you think my father's behind it?”
“Well …” Laurel hedged. “I heard—”
“You and the others blame him for everything! You all talk about how unfair the homesteaders are toward you, but did you ever think about how they feel? I mean, you all came into town and just took over. Everything you've needed has been handed to you.” Celeste slammed a can of green beans on the shelf. “Sometimes the world doesn't revolve around you and your farms, you know. Other people are also trying to make a living.”
Laurel couldn't believe what she was hearing. Celeste had never even hinted that she was angry with the colonists.
“You complain and complain. It's never enough. You've all had so much help, but you want more.” She swung around and glared at Laurel. “You know, you can't always blame someone else for your troubles. Sometimes it's just life. Sometimes it's your own fault!”
Doing her best to control her tears, Laurel looked straight at her friend. “I thought we were friends. I didn't know you hated me and the others.”
Celeste's anger seemed to crumple. She leaned on the counter. “I don't hate you.” Her face softened. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad. It's just that my dad gets blamed for everything.” She glanced out the front window. “And I don't know what I believe anymore.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Sometimes I'm afraid he really did those things to Robert and some of the others.” Her chin quivered, and she pressed her hand against her mouth. “I know my dad's not evil. He was wonderful to my mother, and he's always been a good father. How could he do what they say he did?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
A DAY OF CELEBRATION WAS SCHEDULED TO COMMEMORATE THE one-year anniversary for the colonists. It was called Colony Day. It was also a day of no return. May sixteenth was the last day the government would send colonists back to their hometowns at no charge.
It hadn't been an easy year. Many had difficulties adjusting to Alaskan life—the difference in soil and climate, government errors, money worries, family tragedies, and on and on. And now, with a threatened boycott of goods by homesteaders, they were facing more trouble. As the May sixteenth date approached, some agonized over whether they should stay or go, but most decided to stay.
The celebration included speeches, games, music, and good food. Feeling very much like one family, the Haspers, Lundeens, Jessie, Celeste, Alex, Mattie, and Robert sat together, their blankets spread out on new spring grass. The sun felt almost warm. The fragrance of wildflowers, greenery, and moist earth filled the air. The mosquitoes had uncharacteristically taken a holiday and didn't bother picnickers.
“You want to be my partner in the three-legged race?” Luke asked, grabbing his friend Alex. “We'll beat the pants off everybody else.”
“Sure,” Alex said, jumping to his feet.
The two teens ran to the starting line, joining several other boys.
They were given a piece of rope and were tying it around two of their legs when a husky boy with dark wild hair walked up to them. “Hey, Luke, we don't want no siewashes in this race. You can run if you want, but not him.” His eyes rested on Alex.
Adrenaline surged through Laurel, her anger rising. She'd seen this before. “Did you hear what he said?” she asked Robert.
“Yeah, I heard,” he said glumly.
Laurel stood, glaring at the boy. Someone needed to put a stop to his bigotry.
Mattie stood beside Laurel, her eyes trained on the boy. “He doesn't want Alex to race,” she said, her voice laced with hurt and resentment.
Luke straightened and stepped up to the bully. “This is a free country, and we'll race if we like, John.” He said the boy's name with venom.
John glanced over his shoulder at his pals who, for the most part, were keeping their distance. “There ain't no stinkin' Indians allowed.”
Luke's face turned red, and he shoved the young tyrant. “He races! You hear?”
“Will, stop this,” Jean said.
Without taking his eyes off the boys, Will said evenly, “They're not children. They need to settle this on their own.”
“Stinkin' Indian!” John taunted, wearing a smirk. “Siewash!”
Luke lunged at the boy, swinging his fist. It landed squarely on the bully's broad nose.
John fell on his backside, a stunned look on his face. He clapped a hand over his nose. “What did you do that for?” He looked at his bloodied hand.
Luke stood over him. “Don't never say nothin' like that again.” He looked at the other boys. “Alex is my friend, and he's just as good or better than any one of you!”
John pushed himself to his feet and brushed dirt off his pants. Giving Luke a dirty look, he walked back to the starting line. Laurel didn't feel sorry for him. It wasn't the first time he'd taunted Alex and Mattie.
Luke walked back to his friend and proceeded to tie the string around their ankles. “Now we're really gonna beat their pants off,” he told Alex with a grin.
Alex smiled and threw an arm over Luke's shoulders.
Laurel could see tears in Mattie's eyes.
Jessie patted the native girl's hand. “Don't let someone like him bother you. He's just one boy.”
“It's not just one boy,” Mattie said, her voice hard.
“Well, I think it's awful,” Celeste said. “If Luke hadn't hit that John, I would have!”
Mattie smiled at Celeste. “Thanks.”
A gun was fired, and the boys took off. Luke and Alex made a good team. They charged ahead of the others. Several got their legs out of sync, tangled their feet, and fell. John and his partner didn't make it more than ten yards. Laurel smiled with satisfaction. However, just at the finish line, another team lunged ahead of Luke and Alex. The two comrades ended up in second place. It didn't seem to bother them at all. They fell on the grass laughing and clearly happy to have run a good race.
“So, how are the wedding plans coming along?” Jessie asked Laurel and Robert.
“Good,” Robert said.
“We still have plenty of time.” Laurel tossed a braid back over her shoulder.
Robert took her hand in his. “We can hardly wait. It's too far away. I'm beginning to wish we'd picked June.” He smiled at Laurel, and she returned the gesture.
“I get to be in the wedding,” Brian said. “Laurel said I can carry the rings.” He smiled broadly. “It's a very important job.”
“That it is,” Jessie agreed.
Ed Ketchum and Miram were across the clearing from the Hasper group. Ed was stretched out on the ground. Miram sat beside him, giving him sips of lemonade and bites of cookies.
“I don't think yours is the only wedding coming up,” Jessie said. “Seems Miram and that young Ed Ketchum will be tying the knot soon.”
Laurel chuckled. “I never would have thought those two would get together. Ed's looking pretty good these days. Seems love has helped him to turn over a new leaf.”
“Love can bring about things you never thought possible,” Celeste said dreamily.
Robert looked at Will. “Heard you have a new calf.”
“We do.” Will leaned back on his hands. “Can't decide whether to sell her or keep her though. I'd like to build a small herd of milk cows. We can't produce enough milk and butter for the folks around here. Trouble is, it'll be a long while before that calf comes fresh, and we could use the money now. It'll take a few more seasons to get the rest of my land cleared and producing.”
“I'll buy from you,” Jessie said. “I'm getting too old to keep up with a garden.”
“Thanks.” Will shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever decided to be a farmer.”
“It's in the blood,” Robert said matter-of-factly. “It's somethin' we have to do.” He smiled. “I love working the soil—the smell of fresh-turned earth, the feel of the sun on my back, green sprouts shooting up. There's nothing like it, when I stand and look at rows and rows of crops, knowing they're growing because of my hard work and sweat.” He leaned back on his hands. “I don't think I could do anything else.”
“It's backbreaking,” Luke said. “Makes you old before your time. You can never count on a crop. Weather and pests can wipe you out. I was thinking about hunting or tracking.”
“Yeah. More and more folks are coming in from the outside to hunt. They need guides.”
At that moment Ray Townsend approached them.
“What's he doing here?” Celeste asked, watching her father approach. “Daddy?”
Will stood.
“Now, Will, don't interfere,” Jean cautioned.
“He's mad.” Celeste wet her lips, pasted a smile on her face, and tossed blonde curls off her shoulder.
Ray Townsend, looking like a thunderstorm about to let loose, marched straight up to his daughter. “What are you doing here, young lady? I told you to stay away from these people.”
“Laurel invited me. She's my best friend. I wanted to come.”
Ray glared at Laurel. “Colonists are not your friends.” He shifted his cold gaze to Will. “Keep your daughter away from mine.”
“Laurel's a grown woman. She has her own mind,” Will said evenly.
“What you really mean is, she's out of control. If she were my daughter, I'd do something about it.”
“She's not your daughter, and she's not out of control. She's a fine woman, and I'm proud of her.” He cast Laurel a quick smile. “Laurel makes up her own mind about things. She's not a child, and I won't treat her like one. Fact is, she's nearly a married woman. Soon she'll be running her own house.”
“And I suppose producing more colonist brats,” Ray spat.
“Daddy! Please! Don't!”
“I think you've said enough,” Will stated, his tone sharp.
Ray studied the outsider. “You're the leader of this group, someone people look up to. Right?”
“This group has no leader. We all make our own decisions.”
“But you might consider yourself a voice of reason?”
“Maybe. Me and others.”
“Well, think about this. You and the rest of this lot aren't wanted in this valley. You're all nothin' but a bunch of government moochers. All you do is whine about what you don't have. I doubt any of you can wipe your own noses.” He took a step closer to Will. “If I were you, I'd tell them all to pack up and move on. Life here ain't fit for the weak or timid.”
“I told you, we're here and we're staying,” Will said evenly. “We've got crops in the ground, and we'll be selling vegetables by the end of summer. This valley needs more than trappers and hunters. A whole territory needs produce, and we plan to be the ones to grow it for them.”
“Try and sell your vegetables. None of us are buyin' them. We don't need nothin' you grow,” Ray said through clenched teeth.
Will relaxed his stance. “We're having a little party here. Why don't you simmer down and join us?” He managed to smile. “We plan on staying in this valley. It would be best if we could be friends, work together.” He extended a hand.
Ray stared at it.
Jessie joined Will, standing beside him. “Come on, Ray. These are good folks, and they'd much rather be a friend than an enemy. Most of the settlers have accepted them already. Why can't you? I've known you for a good many years, and you're better than this.”
“Stay out of it, Jessie.” Ray grabbed Celeste by the arm. “C'mon, we're going.”
“Daddy!” Celeste yanked her arm free. “What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? If Mom could see you, she'd be ashamed.” Eyes brimming with tears, Celeste stared at her father.
Without another word, Ray Townsend turned and walked away.
Celeste watched him go. Laurel joined her friend, placing an arm around her shoulders. When Mr. Townsend was out of sight, Celeste let the tears fall. “I don't know what's wrong with him. He never used to be like this. This is the worst it's been since Mom died. I'm afraid for him.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
LAUREL PLUCKED ANOTHER WEED, THEN LEANING BACK ON HER HEELS, SHE closed her eyes, enjoying the sun's heat. Using the back of dirtencrusted hands, she wiped sweat from her forehead and gazed at a row of cabbages.
Inhaling deeply the musky smell of loam and pungent aroma of damp vegetables, she smiled. Robert's right. Farming gets inside you. Laurel didn't understand the why of it; she simply knew it was true. No matter how much her muscles ached, no matter how badly her hands hurt, no matter how many crops were lost to insects or to frost, it was part of her.
Her eyes moved past the young cabbages to rows of peas. Small pods weighted the branches. The sweet vegetables were nearly ready for picking. A picture of warm afternoons spent on the porch shelling peas came to mind. Some of the best times had been spent on that porch. She would shell peas or snap beans and listen to her mother and grandmother tell family stories or share local gossip. Those had been gentle days.
“Laurel! Laurel!” Brian called. Holding a long stick with a sharp point above his head, he ran between rows, jumping over plants and kicking up dirt. “Mama needs you at the house,” he said, running up to his sister.
Laurel stood. “Is everything all right?”
“Yep. She just wants to take lunch to Daddy. She says you need to keep an eye on me and Susie.” He compressed his lips. “I'm not a baby anymore. I can stay by myself.”
“Yes, but what about Susie?”
“I could watch her.”
“I know, but you wouldn't be able to play then.”
“Mama and Daddy are having a picnic at the creek. Mama said I couldn't go.” He pouted, then lifted the stick over his head again. “Hey, watch this,” he said, flinging the makeshift spear. It flew straight. The point plunged into the soil. It wobbled a moment, then stood like a skinny post. “Good, huh?” Brian said, running to retrieve it.
“Very good. One day you might throw a javelin in the Olympics.”
“What's a javelin? And what's the Olympics?”
Laurel chuckled. “A javelin is a fancy spear. And the Olympics is a big contest where people from all over the world compete in sporting events. They run races, see who can jump the farthest, and throw the javelin to see who can throw it the farthest.”
“Oh. Can I go and throw a jav … a … lin?”
Laurel smiled. “You're not old enough now, but maybe one day.” Laurel pressed her hands against the small of her back and stretched from side to side. “The Olympic Games are going to happen soon. They're being held in Germany.”
“How do you know that?”
“Adam told me about it in his letter.”
“Can we go and watch?”
“Oh, no. It's too far away, but Adam might go.”
“Is Adam going to be in a race?”
“No. He's going to write about them.”
Laurel took Brian's hand and walked toward the house, her mind on Adam. She missed him and wondered what he was doing now. She hoped he did get to report on the Olympics. He'd said he thought he might be sent.
Brian jerked his hand out of Laurel's, lifted the stick over his head, and ran toward the house, stopping several times to throw his spear.
Laurel followed, enjoying his antics. I hope Robert and I will still want to picnic together when we've been married as long as Mama and Daddy.
She hadn't yet written to Adam about the wedding. He deserved to know. She decided to write him after lunch.
Jean met Laurel at the back door, a basket draped over her arm. “Thank you for watching the children.”
“I don't mind. It was time for me to come in anyway. I'm hungry.”
“Susie's eating a sandwich. When she's done, you can put her down for a nap. And I expect Brian will be running out of steam any time. He'll be ready to go down soon.” She stepped out the door. “I'll be back in a bit.”
When both children were napping, Laurel went to the cupboard, took out paper and pencil, and sat at the table. She stared out the window for a long while, trying to think of just how to tell Adam she was getting married.
She started with “Dear Adam. I received your letter. It sounds as if life is very exciting for you there. Here it is much quieter. Summer has finally arrived. The snows have melted, and the valley is literally overrun with blooming plants and flowers. It's beautiful. However, the mosquitoes are back, but they don't seem as bad this year.”
She stopped writing and thought about what else he might be interested in. He'd seemed to like the idea of farming and clearly enjoyed her family. She continued, “The cabbages, potatoes, turnips, and carrots are up. The peas are nearly ready to pick. Everything grows amazingly fast. Daddy said it's all the sunlight. He's working hard, nearly from sunup to sundown, but it's wonderful to see everything growing so well. He's already cleared and tilled about four acres and planted them, two in vegetables, two in oats. He's working to clear more. It's a long, slow process, but he hopes to have two more acres finished by fall. The government will pay him sixty dollars for each acre. The money will help a lot. We may have trouble selling our vegetables. Ray Townsend is leading a movement to keep homesteaders from buying our produce.”
She chewed on the end of her pencil, then returned to the letter and wrote, “December fifteenth, Robert and I are getting married.” She stared at the sentence. It looked too bold. Erasing it, she wrote, “Robert and I have grown very close. We've decided to get married. December 15 is the day we've chosen.” She stopped and read the sentence. It sounded better. “We both love winter, so we figured December would be a good time. We'd like you to come. I know it's a long way from London to Palmer, especially in December, but could you try?”
Unexpected sadness spread through her. Laurel set down her pencil. Part of her would always love Adam even if he didn't share her life.
