Worthy of Riches

by Bonnie Leon

  Jean figured Miram certainly wasn't happy with her mother around. “Well, I'm sure you know your daughter well, but Miram told me she never felt like she fit in anywhere before. She told me that here she feels like she belongs.”

  Margarite compressed her lips, and her cheeks turned bright pink. “I didn't come to talk about Miram. I wanted to discuss something else.”

  Jean waited, preparing for the worst.

  Margarite clasped her gloved hands on the table in front of her. “Your poor husband, God rest his soul, must be turning over in his grave at what's going on.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The wedding, of course. Do you think for one moment he'd want you to marry Ray Townsend, his enemy, the man who killed him? And it hasn't been very long since his death.”

  “First of all, Ray didn't kill my husband, and he wasn't Will's enemy. Will chose to stay and protect Ray.” Jean looked at Margarite's gloved hands, then at the woman herself. “As to getting married too soon— well, Will's been gone more than a year. He wouldn't want me to be alone, and Ray Townsend is a good man. Will would approve.”

  Mrs. Dexter raised an eyebrow. “And why would you think that? Ray Townsend is nothing like your husband, who was a godly and well-mannered man. Everyone in this community respected him. Ray Townsend, on the other hand—”

  “Ray Townsend is also godly and respected,” Jean cut in, considering ordering the woman out of her home.

  “What about that boy of yours? I hear he's not even going to the wedding. It's not right turning against your own flesh and blood that way.”

  The words cut into Jean. She'd struggled with herself about going ahead without Luke's acceptance.

  “It must be so hard on that boy, what with his father barely in the ground—”

  Jean stood, pressing her hands on the table. “It's been more than a year, and he's not in the ground. He's in heaven.”

  “Well, yes, of course, you know what I mean.”

  “Yes. I'm afraid I do.”

  “Please understand, I just want to help,” Margarite said in a sweet voice. Still clutching her purse, she stood. “Will was your husband for so many years. If you get married so soon, it looks bad—almost as if you've shoved him aside for another man.”

  “I would never shove Will aside. I love him, I always will, but—”

  “If that's so, then why are you marrying so willy-nilly? People are talking. You could ruin your reputation.”

  Jean could feel herself losing control. “My reputation?” she asked incredulously. “Nothing inappropriate has happened between me and Ray Townsend.”

  “Of course not. But then, well, you did have that overnight stay with him during the storm.”

  “I assure you that nothing happened.”

  “And the issue of the way your husband died. It looks very bad— almost as if you two planned it.”

  Jean couldn't take any more. Shaking, she pointed at the door. “I want you out of my house! Out!”

  Disbelief flittered across Mrs. Dexter's face. “Why, I never … I'm just—”

  “Go. Before I say or do something I'm sorry for.”

  Margarite headed for the door. “It will never work. Never. You two are going against God.”

  Jean pressed her hand against Mrs. Dexter's back and propelled her toward the porch. Shoving her out, she closed the door and leaned against it. Tears came. “I hate that woman! I hate her!”

  “Mommy, what's wrong?” Brian asked, tentatively approaching her.

  Jean wiped at the tears. “Nothing. Everything's fine.”

  “But you're crying. Did Mrs. Dexter say something mean?”

  Jean walked to the table and picked up the cups. “She was just trying to help.”

  “She's right, you know,” Luke said, stepping in from the front door. “People are talking. And Ray won't make you happy. He'll never replace Dad.”

  “I'm not trying to replace your Father. I could never replace him.”

  Luke took the cups from Jean and set them in the sink. “I know I've been awful lately, and I'm sorry.” He turned and faced his mother. “I want you to be happy, but I don't think marrying Ray Townsend is the way to do it. He isn't who he says he is. If I really believed he had changed, I'd say OK to all this, but… well I just can't swallow it.”

  “You're wrong, Luke. He isn't what you think. Please give him a chance.”

  “I can't… just can't. Please don't marry him.”

  “The wedding is today. How can I change my mind now?”

  Luke didn't answer; he just walked out of the house. As she watched the door close behind her son, Margarite's words reverberated through Jean's mind. That poor boy. It will never work.

  Was she doing the right thing? And what about Luke? Would she lose him?

  Chapter 34

  THE MORNING PASSED, AND JEAN DID HER BEST TO PUT MARGARITE AND Luke's words out of her mind. Marrying Ray was the right thing to do. It would be good for Brian and Susie, and she needed a partner. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe her reasons to marry weren't the right ones. And what about Luke? He was her son. He mattered.

  Each day since he'd first heard of the wedding, Luke had grown more distant. He'd packed his things and was ready to move in with Adam and Laurel, refusing to live in the same house as Ray Townsend. What if he never accepts the marriage? she wondered.

  Jean hung her wedding dress in the kitchen while she waited for the iron to heat. It was a soft, yellow chiffon with a scooped neckline. Fitted at the waist, it flared just above her ankles. It was a lovely dress. She knew it would draw Ray's admiration. Only now, she didn't care so much about that, and she didn't feel the anticipation she'd expected. Jean wasn't even certain she ought to get married.

  She headed upstairs to finish her last-minute packing. Warm clothes were a must for camping. When Ray had suggested they return to the mountains where they'd hunted, she'd thought it romantic. Now she only felt confused and anxious.

  Maybe Margarite had been right, and she was blinded to the truth. But how could she call off the wedding on such short notice? She imagined Ray's reaction and felt sick at the thought. And if she didn't marry him, what would she do? She couldn't manage the farm on her own. She'd have to move. But security isn't a good enough reason to get married, she thought.

  Jean stuffed an extra pair of pants and a shirt into her duffel bag. “Maybe I ought to take a pillow.”

  “Look, Mommy,” Susie said, prancing into the room wearing her new dress. She twirled, arms straight out from her body. The skirt of her pinafore swirled away from her. Wearing a bright smile, she stopped twirling.

  “You look absolutely beautiful,” Jean said, folding the little girl in her arms. “You'll make a perfect flower girl.” She straightened. “That dress needs ironing though.”

  “OK.” Susie danced away.

  An ache settled in Jean's chest. Susie loved Ray. She and Brian were thrilled to have a father. How could she hurt them by calling off the wedding? They'd already lost so much.

  What matters is, do I love him? I do. Don't I? She'd thought it was clear in her mind. Now she wasn't sure. She closed her eyes. Lord, clear my mind. Show me what to do.

  Susie carried her dress to her mother. Jean took it downstairs and laid it out on the ironing board. Carefully running the iron over the cotton material, she pressed out the wrinkles. Next she turned to her dress. The chiffon rustled as she worked.

  Brian walked into the room. “Mom, I can't get this buttoned.” He held up his arm.

  Jean did up his cuffs. “Do you need help with your tie?”

  “Nope. Ray taught me.”

  She smoothed the shoulders of his shirt. “You look very handsome.”

  “I'll look even better with the jacket. I'll get it.” He ran out of the room and galloped up the stairs.

  Luke walked in and was about to pass by without saying anything. “You get all those stalls done?” Jean asked before he disappeared.

  �
��Yeah.” He stopped, half in the kitchen and half in the front room. He rocked from one foot to the other. “They needed cleaning pretty bad. Figure I'll do some weeding this afternoon.”

  “So, you won't be at the wedding?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor.

  Jean searched for the right words. “Luke, this is an important day for me. It doesn't seem right, your not being there.”

  Keeping his eyes on the floor, Luke said, “The way I see it, it doesn't seem right for me to be there.” He headed for the stairs.

  Brian ran into the room and nearly bumped into him. Looking up at his brother, he asked, “What do you think? I look pretty good, huh?”

  Luke managed a small smile. “You sure do.”

  “You still not going?” Brian asked, his voice cheerless.

  “No. I've got work to do,” Luke said brusquely and moved past him and up the stairs.

  Brian's shoulders drooped. “I wish he would go. Can't you make him?”

  “No. It's something he has to decide on his own.”

  “It won't be the same without Luke.”

  “I know.”

  By the time Adam and Laurel arrived, Jean and the children were ready. Laurel walked in with Adam right behind her, baby William in his arms.

  “Mama, you look absolutely beautiful!” Laurel said, hugging her mother. “That yellow is perfect on you. I knew it would be.”

  “You look nice, Mrs. Hasper,” Adam said, shuffling the baby into his other arm. “I swear, pretty soon this boy will be too heavy to carry. I'll be glad when he can walk.”

  “Don't hurry him too much,” Jean said.

  “So, how do I look?” Brian asked.

  “Real sharp,” Adam said.

  Susie twirled. “How about me?”

  “You are beautiful.” Laurel bent and kissed her little sister, then straightened and looked at her mother. “Is Luke coming?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to talk to him?” Adam offered.

  “No.”

  “I wish he would come with us,” Brian said.

  Jean was tempted to go upstairs and try to convince Luke, but this was a decision he had to make on his own.

  “Well, I think it's time someone talked some sense into that boy,” Adam said and hurried out of the room and up the stairs. Several minutes later he reappeared.

  “Well, what did he say?” Laurel asked.

  Adam shrugged. “I don't know if he'll be there. Maybe.”

  Laurel forced a smile. “Well, we better go then. You ready?” she asked her mother.

  “As ready as I'll ever be.” Jean glanced at the camping equipment she'd set by the back door. “Ray and I will come by for the gear after the wedding.” She walked into the front room and glanced at the stairway, feeling the pull to go up.

  Hugging her mother with one arm, Laurel said softly, “Maybe he'll be there. He knows how important this is to you.”

  With a sigh, Jean said, “I don't think so. He says he'll be moved out before we get back.”

  When they pulled up at the church, Jean was surprised to see several cars already there. Jessie emerged through the front doors and waited on the porch, a bouquet in her hands. “You look lovely.” She hugged Jean and handed the flowers to her. “For you.”

  “They're beautiful,” Jean said, taking the bouquet made predominantly of bright pink fireweed, with sprinklings of yellow daisies, white anemones, and blue forget-me-nots. “Thank you.”

  Jean wanted to talk to Ray. Maybe just seeing him will settle my doubts. She glanced about. “Is Ray here?”

  “Yes, but you can't let him see you. It's bad luck.” Jessie grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

  “I was just hoping I could talk to him.”

  “Oh, no you don't,” Celeste said, walking up to Jean and giving her a hug. She steered her into a small room off the church foyer. “You wait here. Someone will come and get you when it's time.” She stopped at the door and looked at Jean. “In a few minutes you'll be my stepmother.” She walked back to Jean and gave her a kiss and a hug. “I'm happy you're marrying my father,” she said and left.

  Gripping her bouquet, Jean sank into a chair. “Oh, dear. What am I going to do? How can I disappoint so many people? But what if what Luke said is true. What if Ray isn't what he seems?” She walked to the door. “Of course he is,” she said and peeked out. If I could just talk to Ray.

  Jessie hurried by with more flowers. She stopped when she saw Jean. “Is everything all right? You look a little pale.”

  “I'm fine. Just nerves,” Jean replied, wondering if she ought to tell Jessie about her uncertainty. Jessie had experienced a lot in her life, and she always gave sensible advice, but Jean couldn't bring herself to voice her doubts and instead repeated, “I'm just nervous.”

  “That's to be expected. I still remember how scared I was on my wedding day. Oh my, that was so many years ago. It doesn't seem possible.” She pushed back a loose strand of gray hair. “Well, I haven't finished setting out all the flowers yet.” She hurried away.

  The door opened, and Norma Prosser stepped in. She wore a sensible, floral cotton dress. “Just thought I'd check in on you. So, you ready?”

  “No.”

  Norma looked startled for a moment; then her usual levelheaded expression returned. “No?”

  Jean let out a shaky breath. “I'm confused. I need to talk.”

  “Certainly.” Norma pulled another chair around in front of Jean and sat.

  “I'm not sure what to do.”

  “About what?”

  “Me and Ray. We haven't known each other very long, and Will only died last summer. Luke's angry and absolutely against the marriage. And he thinks Ray is a fake.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Luke isn't planning on being here. He's packing. I'm afraid I'm going to lose him.”

  Norma pulled out a handkerchief tucked into her dress sleeve and dabbed at Jean's eyes. “And I thought I was going to be the one needing this.”

  Jean almost chuckled. “I never expected to be crying before the wedding.” She took the hankie and daubed at her tears. “If I marry Ray, I don't know what my life will look like. What will happen between me and Luke? What if I really do lose him?”

  “Oh, now, I don't believe that for a minute. That boy loves you. He would never just walk away—not for good. Give him time.”

  “That's just it. He's had more than a year to get over his anger and his hurt, but it's getting worse.”

  Norma thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you love Ray?”

  “Yes. Well, I think I do. It's not the same as when Will and I got married, but I don't suppose it should be. I'm more mature now.”

  Norma smiled kindly. “I can't say for sure how someone ought to feel, but I would think that youth brings a lot of intensity with it. Usually we get steadier as we get older, more levelheaded. And the feelings wouldn't be the same—this isn't you and Will, it's you and Ray. You're two different people.” She folded her arms over her bosom. “But your love should be strong. It has to be.”

  Jean nodded. “I do love him.”

  “Then what are you troubling yourself about? You need to live your life, and Luke must live his.” She gave Jean a tight hug. “I really think you have a case of pre-wedding jitters.”

  “I suppose.”

  The door opened, and Jessie looked in, her eyes lighting on Norma. “Ah, there you are. We need some help. Could you give us a hand?”

  “Sure.” Norma stood. “Now Jean, all you need to be thinking about is what a wonderful life you and Ray are going to have. You hear?” She smiled, then followed Jessie out of the room.

  Jean remained in the chair and waited, and although her exterior demeanor was calm, her mind tumbled with questions. She could hear guests arriving. Brian and Susie came to visit more than once, and Celeste checked in on her twice.

  Just before the wedding was to begin, Laurel came to wait with her mother. She w
as nervous and paced. Every few minutes she'd stop and look out into the foyer. “People are still arriving. Looks like the whole community is here.” She turned and looked at her mother. “It's almost time. You ready?”

  “I suppose,” Jean said, but she wasn't. Her mind was still unsettled, and she didn't know what she was going to do. “Have you seen Luke?”

  “No, but he might still come.” Laurel faced her mother. “Don't let him ruin this day.” She smiled. “You are so beautiful. I'm very proud of you. Thank you for asking me to be your matron of honor.”

  “Well, I wouldn't have asked anyone else.” A rush of memories assailed Jean—strolls with a handsome beau, a life with a devoted husband, a houseful of busy children, a new farm…. Jean could feel tears burning the back of her eyes. “When your father and I started out, I never considered that one day I might marry someone else. We planned on spending our years together, raising children, farming, and growing old together. It feels strange to be minutes away from being someone else's wife.”

  “I know Daddy's happy for you. He wouldn't want you to spend your life alone.”

  Jean nodded.

  Celeste looked in, her blue eyes alight. “It's time. You ready?”

  Gripping her flowers, Jean stood and walked into the foyer.

  She'd chosen to walk the aisle unaccompanied, her children preceding her. Organ music filled the sanctuary and drifted into the foyer. Susie smiled up at her mother, and with some guidance from Celeste, finally headed down the aisle. Brian followed. Before Laurel stepped into the church, she whispered, “You ready?”

  Why is everyone asking me if I'm ready? Maybe I'm not. Jean offered Laurel a smile and watched as her oldest walked into the sanctuary. She stepped into the doorway and finally saw Ray. He stood in front, tall and broad-shouldered, his eyes riveted on her. Jean felt a flash of panic rather than the security she'd hoped for. The love in his eyes only made her feel more uncertain. Did she love him enough?

  Keeping her bouquet clasped in front of her, she fought to keep her hands from shaking as she started down the aisle. Her friends and neighbors offered smiles and nods of encouragement. She managed to keep moving and smiled back, but inside she felt turmoil. She searched for Luke. He wasn't here. Would this be the day he stepped out of her life? Should she call off the wedding until she worked out the differences with her son?