Worthy of Riches

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Worthy of Riches Page 16

by Bonnie Leon


  Luke didn't answer.

  Brian bounced up to the man. “Good morning, Mr. Townsend.”

  He looked down at the boy, then kneeled in front of him. “Howdy. You ready to see the island?”

  “Yep. I got my stuff.”

  He tousled the boy's hair.

  Susie stood at his feet and looked straight up at the big man. “Good morning, Mr. Townsend,” she said with a smile. Ray bent and picked up the little girl. “Well, good morning to you too.” He turned to Jean. “We better get moving. Daylight's burning.” He set Susie down. “Did you bring some warm blankets and clothes? It'll be cold.”

  “I did.”

  “So did we,” Laurel said.

  “Good.” Ray headed for his car. “Who's riding with me?”

  “Me!” Brian yelled, running after the man. “You have a neat car. I like it.”

  “Thanks. I like it too.”

  “I'm riding with Adam and Laurel,” Luke said.

  Jean followed Ray. “I s'pose Susie and I can ride with you.”

  Ray opened the back door, and Brian and Susie climbed in. This time Brian knew better than to bounce, and he sat with hands tucked between his legs, his feet dancing.

  “Can I sit with you?” Celeste asked.

  “Sure,” Brian said.

  “No, Celeste. You sit up front. I'll sit in back with the children,” Jean offered.

  “No. I'm fine back here.” Celeste slid in beside Brian. “So, you ready for an adventure?”

  “Yep. I'm ready,” Jean said, not at all certain she was.

  “Me too,” Susie said.

  Ray climbed in behind the steering wheel. He pushed in the clutch, started the engine, then shifted into first and set off toward Anchorage.

  Brian was out of the car almost before it stopped. He ran for the dock.

  “Brian! Get back here!” Jean called, climbing out of the car. “Oh, that boy.”

  Adam's pickup pulled in beside Ray's car. He leaned out the open window. “He's not excited, is he?” he chuckled.

  Planting hands on hips and wearing a small grin, Jean watched Brian skip back toward her. “I don't know, what would you say?”

  Brian jumped with both feet and landed directly in front of his mother, then turned to look at the quay. “Which boat is it?”

  “I don't know.”

  Ray opened the car trunk. “I've just got a dory, but it ought to carry us all.” He hefted a duffel bag out of the car. “It's that one there on the right,” he said, nodding at a wooden boat tied to the pier.

  “It's not very big,” Laurel said, worry in her voice.

  “It's a big dory. We're not going far, and it's sturdy—we'll be fine.” Hauling the duffel bag plus another satchel, Ray headed for the boat. “Let's get it loaded.”

  “Brian, give me a hand,” Adam said, grabbing a box out of the back of the pickup. He handed it to the boy.

  They all pitched in to assemble the supplies on the dock, and Ray methodically stowed them. He knew just where everything belonged, and surprisingly, everything fit. “All right, time to climb aboard. Who's first?”

  “Me!” Brian said, jumping in and ignoring Ray's hand. The boat rocked wildly, and Brian ended up sitting on the floor.

  “No more of that,” Ray said sternly. “You've got to move more slowly, or you'll end up in the drink.”

  “I'm sorry.” Brian slowly stood. “I'll be careful.” He climbed over the seats to the bow. “This is my spot. OK?”

  “Sure,” Ray said. “All right, let's get a move on. I'd like to beat the tide change.”

  Laurel and Celeste sat together on one seat, Jean sat with Susie on her lap on the wooden bench in front of them, and Luke took the space beside her. Adam found a spot in back, alongside the engine.

  Ray untied the boat, pushed them away from the dock, then sat on the other side of the engine. He pulled on a rope starter; the outboard sputtered, then died. He pulled again, and this time the nine-horse Johnson lit. Ray turned the rudder, and they moved into the inlet, the small engine straining under the load.

  Mists sifted over the water, and sunlight splintered in the haze. Squawking seabirds investigated the small craft. “Watch this,” Celeste said, grabbing a piece of bread and tearing off a piece. She threw it into the air, and a gull swooped down, caught the bread in its bill, then flew off to enjoy the tidbit. Celeste tossed more bread and more gulls flew in to grab their share.

  “Can I do it?” Brian asked, standing.

  “All right, but sit down. I'll bring you some.” Moving carefully, she maneuvered to the front of the boat and handed Brian a chunk of bread.

  “Me too,” Susie said, holding out her hand.

  Smiling, Celeste gave the little girl a slice.

  Susie took a bite and chewed happily, then tore off a piece and tossed it into the water. She giggled when a bird immediately retrieved it.

  Brian tossed the last of his and asked, “Can I have another one?”

  “No,” Jean said. “That's enough. The rest is for eating.”

  His smile became a pout, and Brian leaned on the edge of the boat, watching the water in front of them.

  Jean rested against the side of the dory, taking in the view. Like a white and purple citadel, mountain ranges bordered the landscape beyond Cook Inlet. Whispers of clouds touched their peaks. The last of the morning mists evaporated with the sun, and the bay's waters rose and fell in soft, glistening waves. A breeze stirred, caressing Jean's face, and she felt the tension leave her. Until this moment she'd been unaware how anxious she'd felt.

  “This is a beautiful place,” she said to Ray. “Thank you for bringing us.”

  “You're welcome.”

  “Will would love …” Jean started, then let the sentence hang, realizing he would never see it. An uncomfortable quiet fell over the boat.

  Finally Ray said, “Yeah, he would have liked it. Everyone does. Even my Ellie, who never had a fondness for the ocean, liked this trip. Every time I'm out here, I think of her.”

  Luke glowered at the swells. “Too bad my father never got a chance to see it.”

  Jean felt the prick of alarm at his words. He was cultivating his hatred. She glanced at her son, wishing there were some way to remove the hurt and anger. But the only one who could change it was him.

  “What's that?” Brian asked, pointing at something bobbing in the water.

  “An otter!” Adam called. “How about that. I've never actually seen one.” He put his camera to his eye, aimed it at the brown furry creature, and clicked off a picture.

  Laurel stood to get a better view. The charming animal floated on its back, his long whiskers flicking back and forth as he feasted on an ocean delicacy. “He's cute.”

  “Do you think we'll see more animals?” Brian asked.

  “Maybe. Whales and sea lions are pretty common,” Ray said.

  “Whales?” Brian asked.

  “Sure. We have all kinds up here.”

  “Do they eat people?”

  “No,” Ray chuckled.

  “I'd like to see one,” Adam said.

  “Keep an eye out.”

  A fishing boat chugged past, and the dory rocked in its wake.

  Jean grabbed the back of Susie's britches. The little girl was leaning out of the boat, trailing a finger through the waves washing against the hull. “The water's cold.”

  Jean hauled her in. “I'd feel better if you stayed right here beside me.”

  As they approached the island, Jean knew why they called it Fire Island. The paintbrush was so dense that the island looked ablaze. “I've never seen anything like it,” she said. “It's covered with flowers.”

  “Pretty impressive,” Adam said, taking pictures.

  Ray steered the dory toward a small cove with a sandy beach. When the boat scraped bottom, he jumped out and began to haul it inland. Adam joined him. Ray then said, “This is as far as we're going with you on board. You'll have to get wet.”

  Luke jumped
out and took Susie from his mother. Carrying her on his shoulders, he waded ashore.

  Brian followed, letting out a yell when he hit the icy water. He hurried for the beach.

  Jean climbed out, carefully lowering herself into the water. “Whew, that's cold,” she said, thankful it was no deeper than her thighs. Once on the beach, she scanned the landscape. “It's bigger than I thought.”

  “It's a good-sized island—about seven miles long. There's so much to see and do—beaches and woods to explore, cliffs to climb. And there are lots of birds and sea animals.”

  Laurel and Celeste remained in the boat. Celeste stood and smiled at her father. “Dad, do you think it's light enough to pull in a little more?”

  “Well now, I don't know. Would that be fair?” With a smirk, he hauled on the rope and managed to get the boat into calf-deep water.

  After removing her shoes, Celeste gingerly stepped into the water. “It's freezing,” she said, sprinting for dry land. With a laugh, she sat on a driftwood log and brushed sand off her bare feet.

  Brian stared at his soaking shoes. “I should have taken my shoes off.”

  Luke headed for a trail leading up the bluffs. “I'm going to do some exploring.”

  “Don't go too far,” Jean cautioned. “You don't know your way around.”

  “Well, if I get lost, all I have to do is follow the beach, and I'll find you eventually.” He strode off.

  “I wonder if we'll see any sea lions?” Brian asked, staring at the small waves washing in.

  “You might. Keep an eye on the rocks. They like to sun themselves,” Ray said. “Sometimes they'll stick their noses up and take a look at you.”

  He grinned, his gray eyes no longer frightening. Jean wondered why she'd been so afraid of him, then remembered he wasn't the same man he'd once been.

  “I s'pose we ought to haul the boat up on the beach and get everything unloaded.” He headed for the dory. “Adam, can you give me a hand?”

  Provisions unloaded and a crackling fire going, Jean sat alone in the sand with her back resting against a chunk of driftwood. It was quiet except for the sound of birds and surf. A soft wind caught at her hair. She hadn't felt this calm since before Will's death.

  After finishing the work, Ray had excused himself, disappearing up the same trail Luke had taken. Jean figured he wanted to be alone with his memories. Adam, Laurel, and Celeste had taken the children and headed down the beach to do some exploring. She'd simply wanted to rest, to soak in the quiet and the peace. Oh, how she needed peace.

  Pushing her toes into the sand, she thought about napping. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the log. Sleep tugged at her, and she finally lay down on a blanket, the sand like a soft mattress. Yet even in such a comfortable and peaceful setting, her heartache persisted. She longed for the man who'd shared so many years of her life. “I miss you,” she said softly as she dozed off to sleep.

  Jean startled awake. Momentarily confused, she sat up and gazed out at the ocean; then her eyes focused on a shadow falling across the sand and over her. She looked up to find Ray Townsend standing over her. It was very disconcerting. She brushed hair off her face, feeling the grit of sand under her fingertips. “What time is it? Did I sleep long?”

  “It's going on five.”

  “That late?” Pushing herself to her feet, Jean brushed sand off her pants. “Where are the children?”

  “Gathering driftwood for the fire. Soon as the sun drops behind the rocks, it'll turn cold.”

  Jean felt groggy and chilled. She sat on a sun-bleached log and bundled into her coat.

  Ray sat on a log opposite her. “I hauled these in,” he said, slapping the dead, bare tree. “Figured we'd need something to sit on.”

  Jean nodded, then stared at the lapping surf. It felt strange to be sitting here on a lonely beach with the man who'd once hated and despised her husband and who probably had some responsibility for his death.

  He stood. “I'll get the fire relit. The kids will be back soon, and I'll bet they're wet.” He gathered dry grass growing along the edge of the beach. For a big man he moved easily. Jean hadn't noticed earlier, but his curly hair had been clipped short, and his once wild beard was neatly trimmed. But more than his looks had changed. He wasn't as crusty as he'd once been. In fact, most of the time he was kind. Maybe it was his newfound faith. God had a way of changing people.

  Kneeling in the sand, he cleared out a large round pit with his hands and set some of the grass in the bottom. “I'm ready for that wood,” he said, glancing down the beach.

  A few moments later Brian and Susie appeared from around a rock outcropping, their arms full of small pieces of driftwood. Susie kept dropping chunks as she struggled to walk through soft sand. Each time she lost one, she'd stop and pick it up only to lose more when she bent over. Instead of getting frustrated, she simply picked up the lost pieces and trudged on. Her patience will serve her well, Jean thought, knowing she'd face days ahead when it would be needed.

  Brian strode up to Ray. “Where do you want these?” he asked in his most grown-up voice.

  “Right here would be good,” Ray said, touching the sand beside him with his toe. “Those look like just the right size.”

  Brian smiled and dropped the wood. Susie added her pieces to the pile.

  Celeste, Adam, Laurel, and Luke appeared a moment later, their arms laden with wood. They laughed and kicked sand at each other. Luke's smile disappeared, and he turned quiet when he walked into camp.

  “Where do you want this?” Adam asked.

  “We need to be able to get at it. Why not over there?” Ray pointed to a place just outside the circle of logs.

  Adam and Laurel dropped their wood in a pile, and Celeste and Luke added to it. Adam caught Laurel in his arms and pulled her close, then looked at Ray. “This was a good idea. Thanks for bringing us here.”

  “You're welcome. But you ought to thank Brian. It was his idea.”

  “Well then, thank you, Brian.” Adam bowed slightly toward his young brother-in-law, then clasped Laurel's hand. “We're going for a walk. We won't be gone long.”

  “We'll bring more wood,” Laurel added, allowing Adam to draw her away.

  “I better get dinner started,” Jean said.

  “I'll help,” Celeste offered.

  By the time Adam and Laurel returned, a fire crackled and the smell of roasting meat and vegetables carried into the air. “Mmm, smells good,” Adam said, dropping onto a log.

  “It's just moose and vegetables,” Jean said, pushing a stick through the handle of a cast iron pot and coaxing it out of hot coals. She lifted the lid with a hot pad and stirred the contents. A gust of wind carried away rising steam.

  “Good thing there aren't bears around here,” Adam said. “They'd smell …” He clamped his mouth shut. “Sorry.” He poked at cinders with a stick.

  Tension settled over the group.

  Jean forced a smile. “Don't apologize. You're right. We can be thankful. I wouldn't want to contend with a bear for my dinner.”

  Adam offered her an apologetic smile.

  Soon everyone chatted about what they'd seen; the children talked about scuttling crabs, seaweed, and iridescent abalone shells. Celeste told of rock climbing and birds' nests. With their arms intertwined, Adam and Laurel shared their sighting of a beluga. Luke said nothing.

  “So, Ray, how long have you lived in Alaska?” Adam asked.

  “Well, let me see now. Ellie and me came up from Montana in 1912. So, that's been a good twenty-five years.” He grinned. “Just one week after we got here, Mt. Katmai blew up. Ellie was already leery of living way out here in the wilderness. And let me tell you, it was a wilderness then—nothing like it is now. There were no farms or towns, just a few cabins here and there. Anchorage wasn't even a town. I think a few folks had homesteaded down by Ship Creek, but that's about all.”

  “I can't imagine what it would be like to come to a place without even a town,” Laurel said, hu
ddling close to Adam.

  “I loved it. 'Course, I've always been a man who likes his space, and the wilder the better. But poor Ellie—it was hard on her, especially with that mountain blowing up. We had ash all over everything. She was a real trooper, though, and made the best of it. After a while she fell in love with the valley too.

  “We built our cabin; then she put in a garden while I hunted and trapped. That first season I got my first bighorn sheep. He was magnificent. Had a huge rack.” He quieted and took a sip of coffee. “We had a good life.” Looking over the darkening ocean, he added, “This was a favorite place of hers. We used to come here often as we could.”

  “I remember,” Celeste said. “I loved our trips. We'd dig for clams and search the tidewaters for sea creatures.” She grinned. “Do you remember the time your shirt caught on fire and we doused you with the water in our bucket?” She laughed, then explained, “Mom and I had been gathering and saving live crabs and minnows. We even had a starfish in that bucket. Oh, what a sight.”

  “I think you were more worried about the critters than you were about me.”

  “I was not.” A satisfied smile settled on Celeste's face. “I knew the fire was out before I started gathering up our collection.”

  “Those were good days,” Ray said, his voice catching.

  Jean hadn't given much thought to Ray's grief. She felt a twinge of guilt at her self-interest. “We're real pleased you brought us here,” she said.

  “I love it,” Laurel said. She looked at Adam. “Can we come back?”

  “Sure.”

  Luke stood. “I'm going for a walk.” He headed up the beach.

  “Luke?” Jean called, but he acted as if he didn't hear and kept going. Watching his back, Jean felt her good mood sag. Momentarily angry with Ray for his part in this, she glanced at him.

  His sad eyes followed Luke, and then he looked at Jean and held her gaze. She felt an unexpected connection with him and quickly looked away. What was it that she'd felt?

  Chapter 16

  JEAN WOKE TO THE SMELL OF COFFEE AND FRYING BACON. ROLLING ONTO HER side, she watched Ray, who stood over a small fire. He dropped slices of bacon into a cast-iron pan resting in coals, then sat with his back against a log and drank from a mug. He watched the surf and looked content.

 

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