Worthy of Riches

by Bonnie Leon

  “I'm sorry, I…”

  “Mrs. Hasper,” Adam cut in. “Brian's a young boy, and boys get hurt. It's part of growing up. He's curious and bold. I agree, we should have been watching more closely, but no one can protect children all the time.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “After what's happened to you the last couple of years, I understand why you're afraid. The world isn't safe, but it never has been. You can't let this fear keep you from living or allowing your children to live.” He paused as if weighing his next words, then looking straight into her eyes, he added, “You need to trust God more.”

  Jean stared at Adam, and for a moment it looked as if she might retaliate. Then her face crumpled, and the tears came. “I know. You're right. I am afraid.” She stood and walked to the window, staring out into the darkness. She took a slow, deep breath, then turned and faced Laurel and Adam. “It's not your fault. I shouldn't have blamed you. I'll try to trust more. It's just that I remember thinking God wouldn't let anything bad happen to my family.”

  Laurel crossed to her mother. “Mama, nothing touches us that God doesn't allow. You taught me that.” She brushed her mother's hair back as she would a child's. “I don't understand how it all works, but I know we can trust him.” Laurel put her arms around her mother and held her tight.

  After allowing the tears and releasing some of her anguish, Jean stepped back. Sniffling, she smiled at her daughter. “I feel God's love and care every day. And I know your father and brother are with him. But it takes time for a heart to heal, longer than I thought.”

  “It hasn't been that long since Daddy died. Give yourself time.”

  Jean nodded and brushed away the last of her tears. “So, would you like some coffee and cake? I made an apple cake this afternoon while I was waiting.”

  Chapter 19

  A KNOCK SOUNDED AT THE DOOR, AND BRIAN RAN TO GET IT. “THEY'RE here!” He flung open the door. “Hi.”

  Laurel stepped inside. “Hello.”

  Susie ran to her sister and hugged her legs. “Laurel!”

  Taking Susie's hand, Laurel walked into the front room. Looking at her mother, she said, “You look beautiful! I love that dress. Is it new?”

  “Yes. I needed something, so when I came across this piece of blue cotton, I decided to make a dress.” She looked down at the hem. “You don't think it's too short?”

  “No. It's perfect for a harvest party.”

  Jean sat on the sofa. “I don't really feel like a party. I was thinking of staying home. Would you mind taking the children for me?”

  Laurel rested her arms on her rounded stomach. “Yes, I do mind. You need to get out and have some fun. You've been working too hard.”

  “Mama, you have to go,” Brian said, poking a straightened coat hanger between his cast and arm.

  “Brian, stop that.”

  “But it itches,” he said, removing the hanger.

  Jean knew she should go, but she didn't want to face all the couples.

  “Please, Mama.” Brian walked up to his mother. “I want you to watch me bob for apples. I'm good. I figured I'd get us both one.”

  Jean had no way out of it. “All right,” Jean conceded. “I'll go.” She stood and looked about the room. “Now, where did Susie get to?” After checking the kitchen, she headed for her bedroom where she found the little girl kneeling on a chair in front of the dresser mirror, lipstick in hand. Susie turned and smiled. Her lips were painted red. Jean was reminded of clowns she'd seen.

  “Pretty,” Susie said.

  With a sigh, Jean said, “No, you're not pretty. Makeup is not for little girls.” She hurried across the room, grabbed a washcloth off the top of the bureau, and dipped it in the washbasin. “You've made quite a mess,” she said, wiping the little girl's mouth. A touch of pink remained, so she rubbed cold cream on Susie's skin and gently removed the last remnants of lipstick.

  “I remember doing the same thing once,” Laurel said, leaning against the door frame.

  “As I recall, you made quite a mess,” Jean said with a smile.

  Laurel chuckled. “I thought you were going to skin me alive, but as always, you were patient.” She ran a hand over her stomach. “I hope I'm as good with my children.”

  “You'll do just fine.”

  “I never gave it much thought before.”

  “Worrying about it isn't going to help.” Jean sat Susie down and looked at her in the light. “Good as new.” She set her on the floor. “We better get moving, or Adam'll start worrying.”

  “I doubt it. He's probably working so hard getting things set up that he hasn't thought about us.”

  “I wouldn't count on it. I'll wager he's thinking about dancing with his beautiful wife.” Jean circled an arm behind Laurel and guided her toward the door.

  Cars and trucks crowded the parking area outside the community building. “Looks like a lot of folks are here,” Laurel said, her voice touched with excitement.

  Jean opened the truck door and stepped out into cold air. “Looks like people are ready for some fun.”

  Brian climbed over Laurel and out of the truck and ran to the front steps. Susie followed.

  The large room was crowded with people who were laughing, talking, and eating. Children played tag between tables; some scurried underneath. Everyone appeared to be having a good time. Luscious-looking desserts were laid out on two tables, sandwiched between large punch bowls at either end. One was filled with a pink beverage and the other with a red beverage. At the front of the room the band was setting up and tuning instruments.

  Mr. and Mrs. Prosser stood across the room, talking with Tom and Adele Jenkins. Arm in arm, Robert Lundeen and Celeste Townsend cruised the dessert table.

  “Laurel,” Adam called, catching up to his wife. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “See, I told you,” Jean said cheerfully, but inside she felt out of sorts. She didn't fit. “How are you, Adam?”

  “Good. Ready for a party.” Taking Laurel's hand, he said, “I have someone I want you to meet.” He led her away.

  Pressing her back against the wall, Jean wished she could disappear. She felt alone and out of place. I never thought about what it would be like to be single in a world of twosomes.

  The band started playing “Red Sails in the Sunset,” and couples moved onto the dance floor. Jean remained close to the wall.

  “Hello, Jean,” Jessie said, her eyes and voice kind. “Looks like a good turnout, wouldn't you say?”

  “Yes, it sure does.”

  Jessie watched Laurel and Adam dance past. “Even in her condition, that daughter of yours is light on her feet. What a dear she is. And such a help.” She was silent a moment. “It's difficult to be single in a world of couples,” she said gently, offering an encouraging smile. “It gets easier. I won't say that one day it'll be fine, but it will get better.” She rested her hand on Jean's shoulder.

  “I don't mind being alone,” Jean lied.

  “Oh? You're doing better than I did. After my Steward passed away I was real lonely. Seemed I'd never get over it. And being at these functions only made it worse.”

  “To tell you the truth, I didn't want to come,” Jean confessed. “And I'd be happier if I could go on home right now.”

  “I understand, but it's good to get out and be with friends.” She turned her attention on the dancers. “God tells us we're supposed to bear one another's burdens. That way the load's not so heavy.” She looked at Jean. “Please come by my place any time. I'd be happy for the company.”

  “I'd like that.”

  Adam swept Laurel past, then turned and stopped. “Evening, ladies,” he said with a smile. “Good to see you.”

  “Hello, Adam. How have you been?” Jessie asked.

  “Good. I've been doing some writing. There's so much to write about this part of the world, and people like reading about it.”

  “Of course. This is a remarkable place.” Her eyes sparkled with pleasure. She turned to Laurel.
“And how are you feeling?”

  “Good, only the baby's beginning to keep me up nights with its kicking.”

  “Probably settling into its schedule for after it's born,” Jessie chuckled.

  The song “Pennies from Heaven” carried across the room. “You up to dancing a little more?” Adam asked. Laurel nodded and they moved away.

  Jessie remained at Jean's side. She hummed along with the song. “I like this one. It's new, isn't it?”

  “I think so.”

  An older man Jean didn't know well approached them. He smiled at her, then turned to Jessie. “Would you like to dance?”

  “I think I just might,” Jessie said gaily, taking his hand. They joined the other couples.

  Jean remained glued to the wall—alone. She tried to think of an excuse to leave.

  “Hey, Mom. You want to dance?” Brian asked.

  Jean looked down at her son's smiling face. His blue eyes shimmered with merriment. “I'd love to,” she said, allowing him to guide her onto the dance floor. Acting very adult, he took her right hand in his, rested his cast on her waist, and moved to the music. Jean did her best to follow his awkward steps.

  She felt slightly better. She caught the eye of friends several times and exchanged smiles. Before long she was actually enjoying herself.

  When the dance was over, Adam stepped up and asked Brian if he could dance with his mother. Brian gave his permission, and when the music started, Jean followed Adam, and Brian steered Laurel around the dance floor. Susie stood with Ray Townsend and talked happily with the big man.

  Adam smiled at Jean. “Looks like lots of homesteaders and colonists are here celebrating together. Things are better.”

  “Yes…” Jean said with a twinge of resentment. “But at what price— my husband's life?”

  “It was his choice.”

  “I know, but it doesn't help.” She glanced at Ray Townsend. “If I could change it, I would.”

  The musicians took a break, and people gathered into small groups. Many congregated around the dessert table. Children lined up to bob for apples, and others waited at a beanbag toss.

  Brian and Adam bobbed for apples while Jean and Laurel cheered them on. Carefully holding his casted arm out of the way, Brian came up with one clenched between his teeth and immediately presented the prize to his mother. After that, the family moved on to the beanbag toss where they all took a turn, trying to pitch a small bag into a clown's gaping mouth.

  They also tried the cakewalk, and Adam happily won a chocolate cake donated by Mrs. Prosser. Brian tried several times to win one but never managed to land on the right spot.

  When the band started playing again, Ray Townsend walked up to Jean. “Would you like to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  At first Jean didn't know what to do. Although they had a working relationship and had established a friendship of sorts, dancing with him was something else all together.

  “That's all right. You don't have to,” Ray said.

  Jean realized she'd been staring at his hand. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat. “No. I'd like to.”

  “You sure? I don't want to embarrass you.”

  “Don't be silly,” Jean said, taking his hand and stepping into his arms.

  Ray was more self-assured on the dance floor than Jean had expected. At one point, Celeste and Robert waltzed past, and Ray winked at his daughter. His high spirits must have been infectious because soon Jean was glad to be dancing.

  When the song ended and another began, it felt natural to continue. It's nice to be in a man's arms again, Jean thought with a touch of guilt. She glanced at her partner. She wasn't attracted to Ray Townsend, but his strength and guidance felt right.

  “Are you having a good time?” he asked.

  “Yes. I wasn't going to come, but I'm glad I did.”

  When the music ended, Ray led Jean to the punch bowl. “I'm thirsty. How about you?”

  “Yes. I am too.”

  He filled a cup with punch and handed it to her. He swigged down one cup, then another. “Not bad.”

  Jean sipped hers and wondered if she ought to move on and visit with another friend. She didn't want Mr. Townsend to feel obligated to stand with her.

  Frank Reed and Tom Jenkins joined them. They nodded at Jean. “How you been, Mrs. Hasper?” Frank asked.

  “I'm well. You?”

  “Not bad. 'Bout time to head up to the mountains. Figure I'll be taking off come next week.” He looked at Ray. “You goin' up on your own, or you got a huntin' party you're takin' out?”

  “Goin' alone.”

  “Mountain sheep?” John asked.

  “Yep. I've got a good spot up in the Chugach.”

  Jean was out of her element and searched for a polite way to excuse herself. She looked for her children, hoping she was needed. Jessie had Susie, and the two were sitting together eating cake. Brian was with his friends. Laurel and Adam were dancing. She couldn't find an acceptable distraction.

  “So, what do you think about that, Mrs. Hasper?”

  “I'm sorry. Did you say something?”

  Frank smiled. “I was askin' you what you think of women and hunting?”

  “I've never gone.”

  “So you agree, hunting's for men?”

  “No. I think it's for anyone who likes it.”

  “Women don't have the strength and endurance for hunting.”

  “Endurance?” Jean asked incredulously. “Sir, I brought five children into this world, and I don't think anything takes more strength than that.”

  Frank pushed his wad of tobacco further into his cheek. “That's different. Women are made for that kind of thing.”

  Jean folded her arms over her chest and met Frank's eyes. “I guess you haven't been paying attention, Mr. Reed. Lots of women, including myself, work a full day on the farm, take care of the kids, do the baking and housecleaning, make supper, then in the evening do the mending and so on. Plus, I work at the store several hours a week. I'd say that takes stamina.”

  “No need to get your dander up,” Frank said.

  “I'd do just fine on a hunt.”

  “You think so?” Frank grinned. “Well, Ray, didn't you say you were going up next week?”

  Ray answered hesitantly. “Yeah.”

  “Well, why don't you let the lady prove what she's sayin'? And we'll see who's right.”

  Ray looked at Jean, then back at Frank. “She doesn't want to go. It's not a good idea. It's rough country.”

  Jean's ire grew. Rough country! she thought. What's that got to do with anything? Before she thought, she said, “It's not too rough for me. I could do it. And I will.” She tipped her chin up slightly.

  “Now, Mrs. Hasper, you don't know what you're getting yourself into,” Ray said.

  “I want to go.” Already Jean wished she could take back the words. This was foolishness. She didn't want to go hunting, but how could she let these men get away with such narrow-mindedness?

  “Jean, you don't have to do this. These guys are just teasing. You're a strong woman, and they know it. You don't have to prove anything.” Ray glanced out over the room, then looked at Jean. “I really don't think it's good for a woman to hunt when she's not used to going.”

  “Now, what are you scalawags up to?” Jessie asked, sidling up to Jean and laying an arm around her waist.

  “Mrs. Hasper's going hunting with Ray,” Frank said. “She says a woman's just as good as a man.” He gave Jean a smug smile.

  “Well, I suppose if Jean said she can do it, she can. She doesn't have to prove it.”

  Tom Jenkins chuckled. “I think a lot of you, Mrs. Hasper, but I don't think you're cut out for hunting.”

  Knowing she ought to take the way out, Jean couldn't bring herself to give in. “I'll go.” She looked straight at Ray. “When are you leaving?”

  “I planned to head out day after tomorrow. But Mrs.—”

  “Sounds fine to me. I'm sure I can get the tim
e off work, and Laurel will watch Brian and Susie. I'll be ready.”

  Ray looked troubled, then shrugged. “All right. I'll pick you up Friday morning 'bout six o'clock.”

  “Good. I'll see you then.”

  For a moment nothing more was said. Then the band started playing “Ain't She Sweet.”

  “Would you like to dance?” Ray asked.

  “Certainly,” Jean said, thinking a dance was an absurd way to end the conversation, but to turn him down would seem like giving in.

  They danced for a long while, neither saying a word. At one point, she found Luke glaring at them. She felt scalded by his disapproval. She looked away and wondered how she'd gotten herself trapped into a hunting trip. How foolish of me. What will people think?

  Ray cleared his throat. “You don't have to go. Those guys were just trying to get your goat. They know women don't hunt.”

  “I know women who hunt,” Jean said, wondering why she couldn't take the easy way out.

  “I won't say a thing. We'll just let it drop.”

  Something in Jean wouldn't allow her to let go of it. She'd said she was going and she would. “No. I want to go. When I make a deal, I stick to it. Besides, I've always wondered what it would be like to hunt. I should have gone with Will while he was still alive.”

  The song ended, and Ray stopped dancing. “All right. But it's not easy. You'll have to do a lot of riding and hiking, and sometimes it's so cold, your face and hands go numb. Once we're out there, I'm not turning back.”

  “I understand. I'll be fine.”

  Ray shrugged. “All right. Make sure to bring warm clothes and comfortable boots.”

  Jean nodded, wondering where she was going to get a good pair of boots at the last minute.

  “I'll bring the food and the rest of the gear. You have a rifle?”

  “My husband's.”

  A question flickered across Ray's face. “It's not the one he—”

  “No,” Jean cut in, the memory of Will's death suddenly fresh and painful. “It's a different one.”

  Ray was quiet a moment, then matter-of-factly said, “Make sure it's clean and ready to go. Have plenty of ammunition. And if you haven't shot it much, you'd better practice.”