Valley of promises, p.33
Valley of Promises, page 33
Will removed the lid and held out the jar to Robert. “Have as many as you like. Jean makes the best I've ever tasted.”
Robert took several slices and ate them, then licked red juice off his fingers. “I ought to get the recipe for my mother. She'd like these.”
“I'll write it down, and you can take it home to her,” Jean said. “I thought it was my fried chicken you were really crazy about.”
“I like that too.” Robert took a chicken leg and bit into it.
Laurel's good mood had faded. Robert seemed to care more about food and recipes than he did about things like the Olympics. What are we going to talk about for the next fifty years? Stop fretting. We have lots in common. He's just being nice to Mama.
Robert took another piece of chicken.
“How's the house coming along?” Will asked.
“Good. I've got the interior walls set, and I'm working on the roof. We ought to have the whole house finished in another six or eight weeks.” He winked at Laurel. “It should be ready in plenty of time for our wedding.” He took her hand. “By the way, Mama found some material for curtains when she was in town. She wanted to show it to you.”
“But I've already got material.”
“I know, but Mama liked it so much that I told her it would be all right. I hope you don't mind.”
Of course I mind! Laurel thought. Tension settled over the group. “I guess if she has her heart set on it,” Laurel conceded, giving her mother a helpless look.
Jean offered a sympathetic smile.
“You want to go for a swim?” Robert asked Laurel.
“Right now? We just ate. I thought you were supposed to wait at least thirty minutes.”
“We won't swim hard. And you barely ate.” He stood and held out a hand to Laurel.
She took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. Laurel didn't feel much like swimming, although the lake sparkling beneath the sun did look tantalizing. “Let me get on my suit,” Laurel said, heading up a path leading to a small dressing room. The short walk made her feel better, and so did Robert's admiring stare as she came out of the bathhouse.
Fed up with her changeable moods, Laurel was determined to have a good time. She raced Robert for the water and didn't slow down as she stepped into the lake. Its icy coldness sent spikes up her legs and into her body. Squealing in delight, she kept going.
Robert waded in beside her. As soon as the water reached his waist, he dove in. When he surfaced, he pushed his hair out of his face and smiled at Laurel. “Come on. Dive in.”
“No. It's too cold.” Shivering, she held her arms close to her.
“Either you do it, or I'll do it for you.”
“Don't you dare.” Pushing through the water, Laurel headed toward the beach. Robert grabbed her and twirled her around, dunking her. She came up sputtering and wiped wet hair out of her eyes. “You!” She laughed, then dove in and swam out a little way. Treading water, she waited for Robert, but Luke jumped at him and tried to dunk him. The two tussled.
Laurel's eyes roamed over the beach. Children played in the sand and in the shallows. Parents relaxed in the shade of trees. A young couple caught her attention. They were indiscreetly entwined in each other's arms. The woman reached up and ran her fingers through the man's blond hair. He gazed down at her, then kissed her ardently.
Laurel glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed the pair, but they could be seen only from the water. They'd set their blanket in a grove of birch. Laurel knew she was intruding, but she couldn't keep from watching.
The woman said something. They laughed, then held each other tightly. Then Laurel noticed the woman's bulging abdomen. She was pregnant. Laurel felt a pang of jealousy. To be so in love would be wonderful, she thought, aware she didn't feel that deep passion for Robert.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
LAUREL THRUST A PITCHFORK INTO THE EARTH, WEDGING IT BENEATH A potato plant. Pushing it deeper with her foot, she lifted the plant, which was heavy with potatoes, then dropped to her knees and began breaking up loam with her hands. When her fingers found the firm, round potatoes, she pulled them free of the root, brushed away the dirt, and dropped them into a wheelbarrow. Before moving on, she rested her arms on the edge of the cart.
Her mother bent over a plant in the row beside her. Glancing at Laurel, she said, “These are loaded!”
Laurel pushed the wheelbarrow a few feet down the row. She looked at the sky. Fingers of wispy clouds stretched across the pale blue ceiling. The sun was warm but not hot. Squawking echoed across the fields, and Laurel sought out the geese she knew were heading for their winter feeding grounds. Flying in perfect formation, they paddled the air. Laurel watched until they disappeared beyond the forest in their single-minded flight south.
Summer was coming to a close. Chilly mornings foretold of approaching fall. Soon the morning sun would reflect off sparkling, frosted earth. Already leaves were changing into their fall colors—red, yellow, and orange. Autumn, with its iridescence, would settle over the valley.
Leaning on the pitchfork, she stared at the home she and Robert would share. He'd done a good job. It was a nice house, but it just didn't feel like hers.
“You're not going to get many potatoes dug that way,” a man called, cutting into Laurel's thoughts.
The voice sounded familiar. Laurel whirled around. “Adam?” She stared at him, thinking it might be her imagination. Sunlight shimmered off his light brown hair, which curled onto his forehead as it always did. He was wearing blue jeans and a pale blue work shirt. A charming smile lit his face. The closer he came, the faster he walked, his long legs carrying him toward her.
“Adam!” Laurel repeated, refusing to obey the compulsion to run to him.
Adam had no such reservations. He ran to her and swept her into his arms.
Automatically, Laurel's arms went around his neck. She didn't fight his embrace.
He held her against him and whispered against her hair. “I've missed you. Oh, I've missed you.”
Laurel could smell his mild, spicy aftershave. It reminded her of the kiss they'd shared. I'm engaged! her mind yelled. What am I doing? She pushed against his chest. “Let me go!”
Adam grudgingly released her, but he stood close, his captivating blue eyes searching hers. She felt his passion and his love, and fought a rush of emotions that threatened to drive her back into his arms.
“I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to. I know you're engaged. It's just that when I saw you …” Adam brushed the hair off his forehead. “I wasn't thinking. Sorry,” he ended lamely.
Laurel took a steadying breath. “I … I didn't know you were in town.”
“I flew in this morning.” He gazed at the fields and rows of lush green crops. “You've done well.” He looked at Jean, who was studying him with a puzzled expression. “Afternoon, Mrs. Hasper.”
“Hello, Adam.” Jean stepped over the row of potatoes and joined the two. “It's good to see you. What brings you to the valley?”
“My story. I still have the final piece to write—the first harvest. By the looks of things, you've made it.”
“It's been a good year.”
“You'll be taking part in the fair?”
“Of course,” Jean said. “Nearly every farmer will have something entered.”
Adam smiled. “That's why I'm here.” He glanced at Laurel. “Then I'll be heading back to Europe. Things are heating up over there.”
Reality hit Laurel. Adam wouldn't be staying. Sadness seeped through her.
“We're happy to have you,” Jean said. “Can you stay for supper?”
“I've been dreaming about your cooking. Of course I'll stay.” Adam's eyes swept over neat, mounded rows of vegetables and dark loam, then moved to the mountains. He breathed deeply. “In London I'd remember how beautiful it is here, but the memories aren't nearly as good as the real thing.” He glanced at Laurel. “It'll be hard to leave.”
The following morning Laurel headed for the forest to pick cranberries. Adam tagged along. She carried an empty lard bucket, hitting it with a stick periodically as they walked.
“Why are you making that racket?”
“The bears are filling their bellies before winter gets here. It's best to let them know we're coming. It's not a good idea to surprise one.”
“Oh.” Adam searched the ground and picked up a branch. He started beating his own pail. “So, this will send them off, huh?”
“Usually. I've never had a problem, but bears are unpredictable.” Laurel wasn't sure she liked the idea of Adam joining her. It probably wasn't a good idea to spend time alone. She knew Robert wouldn't like it.
They entered the woods and immediately found bushes heavy with clusters of red berries. “They're loaded. These make great jellies and syrups.”
Adam immediately plucked a firm, round fruit and held it to his nose. “Smells funny.” He popped it in his mouth, then spat it out. “They're sour. How do you eat these?”
Laurel laughed. “I told you, Mama makes jelly and syrup out of them. She adds lots of sugar.” Laurel untied a length of rope she'd cinched around her waist and ran it through the bucket handle, then looped the rope around her waist, pulling it snug and tying it. “This way your hands are free to pick.”
“Good idea,” Adam said, unbuckling his belt to secure his pail. He picked a handful of berries and set them carefully in the bottom of his pail. “So, you and Robert are still planning on getting married?”
“Yes. December fifteenth. I wrote you.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Adam's voice took on a hard edge.
“We'd like you to come.”
“I think I'm going to be busy that day,” Adam said dryly.
“Oh.” Laurel had known he wouldn't be there. “Our house is nearly finished. Robert's done a fine job. Would you like to see it after lunch?”
“Actually, I've got work to do.” Adam stepped further into the bush, stretching to reach a bunch hanging from an upper branch. “Remember, I'm here to finish my story.” He looked at Laurel. “Do you know how many families have left?”
“No. You'd have to ask Daddy. I know there've been a lot. But other families have come and taken over some of the places.”
“Really? Looks like your farm's doing well.”
“It is, but that doesn't mean much money is coming in. Markets are lean.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Adam stared into his nearly empty bucket. “Are you going to the fair?”
“Yes. We're excited about it. My father entered some of our produce. The Matanuska Valley grows the biggest cabbages and turnips you've ever seen.”
“I'll be there taking pictures, and I'll make sure to get one of you and your turnips.” He grinned in that charming boyish way of his, and again Laurel wished he hadn't come.
Laurel sat in the rocker. She'd been dressed and ready to go for an hour, but Robert hadn't shown up. Her family had left for the fair early that morning, but she'd decided to wait for Robert.
“Where is he?” Laurel fumed, pushing herself out of the chair. She walked to the window and stared at the Lundeen tent. A trail of smoke rose from the stovepipe.
She marched to the back porch, grabbed her coat from its peg, pushed open the door, and stepped outside. Angry, she walked fast. Robert knew she'd wanted to leave early. It wasn't like him to be late. Laurel picked up her pace. Maybe something was wrong.
She stepped up to the door of the tent and called, “Hello.” There was no answer. “Hello,” she called again. Still no answer. She peeked inside. The tent was empty.
She searched the barn and scanned the fields but couldn't find Robert. He wouldn't have gone without me. Uncertain whether to be angry or worried, Laurel headed down the road toward the fairgrounds.
A pickup approached, stirring up dust. Laurel stepped to the side of the road and waited for it to pass.
It slowed and stopped. Adam rested his arm on the open window. “Hi. I was coming to get you.”
“How'd you know I needed a ride?”
“Robert's sister remembered she was supposed to tell you that Robert went into Anchorage yesterday. He planned on being back in time, but he didn't make it.” He grinned. “I figured you could use a chauffeur, so I volunteered. Hop in.” He reached across the seat and opened the door.
Laurel climbed in. “Why did Robert go to Anchorage?”
“Something about selling vegetables.”
“He said he'd be back this morning?”
“That's my understanding.”
“I hope he's all right.”
“You know how bad that road gets. He'll be along soon.”
“You didn't have to pick me up. I could have walked.”
“Yeah, but then I would have missed your company.” Adam grinned, naughtiness touching his eyes. He turned the truck around, and they headed for the fairgrounds.
Sitting beside Adam was unnerving. He affected her in a way no one else could. Laurel hugged the door, keeping plenty of space between herself and Adam. “Have you already been to the fair?” she asked. Of course he has. He just told me he talked to Robert's sister, Laurel thought, feeling dimwitted.
“I just came from there.”
“What do you think? Is it a good one?”
“Well, it's no Chicago Expo, but it's not bad. Reminds me of the ones I went to when I was a boy. Lots of simple down-home fun and good food. I was thinking I might take a shot at the greased pig race.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You think I can win?”
“You just might.”
Adam pulled into a grassy area congested with cars, trucks, and wagons. He parked, then reached across Laurel and opened her door. “Do you mind if I tag along with you for a while?”
“No, I'm on my own,” Laurel said, knowing she should have refused and spent the day with her family. What's the harm? I'll never see him again, she reasoned.
They walked through a bright display of flowers, then moved on to tables laden with vegetables. Adam was stunned at the size of the cabbages and turnips. They continued on to an exhibit of local crafts.
Jessie sat amidst a display of her paintings. She was working on one, but stopped when Adam and Laurel walked up to her. “Hello, there.” She stood, gave Laurel a hug, and then shook Adam's hand. “It's good to see you, young man. I was hoping you'd return to us.”
“I'm not staying. I've got to get back to London. I'm working as an overseas correspondent these days,” he added, unable to keep the pride out of his voice.
“Yes, Laurel told me. So, what are you doing here?”
“Finishing the story about the colonists.” He lifted the camera hanging from a strap around his neck. “You mind if I take your photograph?”
“Oh, no. Not at all.”
“OK, just stand between these two paintings,” he said, gently steering her into position.
Jessie placed a hand on a picture of wild sweet peas. “How's this?”
“Perfect.” Adam took several photos. “I ought to be able to get a good one out of these,” he said.
“I don't know. My face has never been very camera-friendly.” She chuckled and sat. “So, have you been around to see much of the fair yet?”
“Some of it,” Laurel said.
“Well, you've got to watch the rodeo. They had one this morning, and there's another competition this afternoon.”
“Sounds fun.” Laurel gave Jessie a hug. “I'll see you later this week?”
“I'm counting on it.”
Laurel and Adam moved on. They made the rounds of several exhibits and games. Adam stopped at a booth where the challenge was to knock over a stack of weighted bottles with a baseball. Laurel eyed the prizes—an assortment of stuffed animals and dolls. One doll was especially beautiful. It had big blue eyes and a headdress of pink feathers. “That's what I want,” she said, pointing at it. “Can you get it for me?”
“I'll try.” Adam grabbed three balls, and in rapid succession, pitched them at the bottles. He knocked them down on his third try.
The barker took down the doll. With a wink, he handed it to Laurel. “I think this is what you wanted?” He looked at Adam. “You've got a good arm. Ever think about taking up baseball?”
“Oh, sure. The Yankees can't wait to sign me,” Adam said with a laugh. He circled Laurel's waist with his arm and escorted her away from the booth.
The gesture felt natural, but Laurel stepped away. “Robert should be here by now.”
“He's probably heading into town right now.”
“I hope so.” Laurel held the doll at arm's length. “She's kind of silly-looking, but I like her. Thanks.”
“Glad to do it,” he said with a small bow.
They looked at the livestock, then munching cotton candy, moved on to the rodeo. Young men climbed onto the backs of wild horses and bulls. A few stayed on until a bell rang, but most were dumped in the dirt. Laurel couldn't understand why men would do such a thing, but it was entertaining.
At one point, she saw Ray Townsend staring at her from across the arena. Instinctively she moved away from Adam. She knew Ray had been relieved at her engagement to Robert. It meant Celeste was safe from the arms of a colonist.
Ray made his way around the corrals and walked straight to her. With only a glance at Adam, he turned his eyes on Laurel. “Where's Robert? Don't suppose he'd be too happy to know you were here with someone else.”
A mix of anger and guilt swept through Laurel. “Adam and I are friends. That's all. And Robert's in Anchorage trying to sell his produce. He'd be here if he could, if there were a market here. You've made sure that can't happen.”
Ray's lips turned up in a satisfied sneer. “Going into Anchorage won't help him. It won't save his farm.” He glanced at a calf kicking up dust as it bucked past, then his cool eyes settled back on Laurel. “He won't make it. None of you will.” With that, he walked on.
“He makes me so angry,” Laurel growled, watching his back.
“Don't let him get to you. He's nothing but a lot of hot air.”
“I wish that were true.”
“Forget about him. Let's enjoy the day.”
