As Time Goes By (The Californians 2) (13 page)

I told myself not to mention any of this, but as you can s e, that s all Ive done. I was in to see Jasper yesterday. He looks well, but the office wasn't the same without you. Church feels just as lonely without you at my side. Please write to me.

I've got a surprise for you--I'm coming to Santa Rosa for a visit. I'll have to let you know the date and how long my stay will be. Maybe your boss would let you have a few days off.

Please write me as soon as you receive this.

Yours alone, Cleve

Still fully dressed, Bobbie sat on the edge of her bed for a long time. She wasn't even excited about Cleve coming to see her. Why was that? They were very close and she always enjoyed his company. In fact she always felt won derful when they were together, and Bobble knew why: Cleve thought she was beautiful.

Bobbie knew very well she wasn't, but that was the way every girl wanted her spouse to feel. And he wanted to marry her. Bobbie had only been on one date and that had been the ill-fated one with Jeff. She had never dated in Jenner; in fact, she and Cleve never dated. At first he came to the office to see her and then he would call around in the evenings at her aunt and uncle's home. He

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never tried to get her alone or make any advances toward her. Bobbie had been completely nonplussed when he had proposed one night three months ago, while Jasper and Joanne had been busy in the kitchen.

"What did you say to me?" Bobbie had asked. "I said, Robbie, will you marry me?" "Are you serious, Cleve?" "Never more so."

"But we've never even talked about this."

"So let's talk now," Cleve said as he took her hand, touching her for the first time. Bobbie had been too stunned to speak. It was a wonderful thing to know that someone desired her for a wife, and it was simply lovely to have Cleve holding her hand so tenderly within his own, but it certainly wasn't as simple as he made it sound.

They had talked about little else in the weeks to follow, or rather Cleve had talked and Bobbie had listened. He had every imaginable argument as to why they should be married. The only thing he never mentioned was love. Bobbie said as much one night.

"I've never tried to analyze it before, Robbie, but I do know that I feel something for you that I've never felt for anyone before. I'm not at all worried that we're not gazing into each other's eyes like lovesick teenagers. Our marriage would be built on commitment and trust. And love, if not now, would come in time."

Cleve had kissed her then, the only time. Bobbie had been a little dazed after the kiss and even more so when he told her she was beautiful. She was also more con fused than ever.

Bobbie's reverie was interrupted by a knock on her bedroom door.

"Come in."

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"It's me, Bobbie."

"Hi, Mom."

"I saw the light under your door. Everything okay?"

"Not really, but I wouldn't know how to tell you what's wrong."

"Cleve?"

"Cleve." Bobbie answered, glad that her mother under stood. "Do you know, Mom, that when he kissed me I thought I would melt? Does that make me kind of... promiscuous?"

"No," her mother said tenderly and felt tears sting her eyes.

"I also like it when he holds my hand."

"I'm sure you do. I would say that's pretty normal. Did

Cleve kiss you often?"

"Just once."

"But wonderful kisses or not, you're not sure you want a lifetime of that?"

"Right. I mean, marriage is more than intimacy, isn't it? And I want to be sure that we can live as man and wife in every room of the house for the next 40 years. No regrets, do you know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean," Maryanne an swered calmly, but her heart was crying out to God. "Oh please, Lord, give her a godly man who will cherish her as I've been cherished by Jake.'

"You better get some rest," Maryanne said after a moment of quiet.

"He's coming to visit."

"So you said. Now maybe that will settle the whole thing. He'll come and your father and I will loathe him on our first meeting and that will be the end of that."

Bobbie laughed. "I'm afraid it's not that easy. You'll probably think he's the greatest."

"Well, he does have one thing going for him--he's in love with my daughter." Maryanne stopped with her hand on the door. "Bobbie, what does that look mean?" 'ctually, I can't really say that we are in love."

"Do you mean that Cleve has never told you he loves you?"

"No, he hasn't. We've talked about it, and I'm not sure I love him either, but Cleve believes our marriage will be built on other things, and that love will come later."

Maryanne appeared pensive.
Alarmed
better described her mood, but she didn't want her daughter to know how dismayed she was.

"Bobble, answer one question for me: Are you afraid that if you don't marry Cleve, you never will be mar ried?"

"Not afraid, just aware. I'm not the sort of girl men notice. Since I grew up here, I doubt that there's a love match for me in this town, but the thought doesn't devastate me. I promise I will not accept Cleve because I feel he is my only hope."

Bobble could see she had put her mother at ease. What Bobbie didn't know was that Maryanne cried herself to sleep that night. She couldn't even tell Jake what was wrong. He didn't press her, knowing that when she could talk, she would. As it turned out, they were both awake in the middle of the night and talked then.

It was wonderful for husband and wife to share how they felt. And Jake had to admit that some of his joy over knowing that his precious Bobbie had found someone special had diminished slightly. They talked until nearly dawn and once again overslept for church.

It was unusual that this should happen twice in the same month, but when it did, Maryanne always fixed a special breakfast and then the family had their own Bible

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reading and discussion at the kitchen table. No one was happy to miss services, but they all thoroughly enjoyed these family times in the Word.

After church Jeff commented to his father about not seeing the Bradfords. Bill seemed unconcerned and told Jeff that the Bradfords loved to go camping and possibly left after the work at the Micklesons.

Jeff had never known anyone who went camping as a recreation. He decided he would ask Bobbie about it in the morning.

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I can't believe your whole family overslept." Bobbie laughed. "It's not the first time."

"My dad thought you might have gone camping." Jeff said this thinking Bobble would laugh at the idea.

"I wish," she said with feeling. "We tried to go my first weekend back but it poured."

"Where do you go? I mean, where do you set up camp?"

"We head east on the Sonoma Road. My dad knows a man who owns a ranch that goes back up into the hills. We camp in a wooded area of his land, near the creek. Some parts are so dense with trees that you stay dry in the rain. But it doesn't work if we leave the house in the rain and all our gear is soaked before we arrive."

Jeff was captivated. "What do you take in the way of gear?"

"Everything you need to survive the weekend--food,

a change of clothes, fishing gear---" "Do you fish?" "Sure."

"Does Gilbert know?"

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"I do now." Gilbert spoke from the doorway. "So when do we leave?"

"Not until I find out more about this camping," Jeff told him.

Bobbie could see that their questions could go on all day, and she knew she had to get some work done. "Why don't we talk at lunch?"

"I think she's trying to tell us to get back to work," Jeff commented.

Jeff and Bobbie tried again at lunchtime to talk, but Rigg came in. The conversation turned to business at the mercantile, and again Jeff's questions to Bobbie were put off.

Bobbie thought nothing of this. In fact she had forgot ten the entire discussion, so she was doubly surprised when Jeff appeared at her side to walk her home.

"You can tell me about your camping on the way." 'afll right," Bobbie agreed after a surprised moment. "What do you usually eat?"

Bobbie was having a hard time understanding why this was so interesting to Jeff, but she was a good sport and answered his queries.

"My morn packs enough food for an army, but we fish and pick berries if the season is right. My dad always makes hot coffee and flapjacks over an open fire in the mornings. In fact there's nothing quite like an outdoor breakfast with a hot cup of coffee in your hand."

Bobbie's voice was so wistful that Jeff found himself wanting to try this camping business. He wondered how Bobbie and her mother managed in their long dresses

but figured that was none of his business.

"Do you sleep on the ground?"

"We might now, I don't know. But when we were little we all laid our bedrolls in the back of the wagon. Don't

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forget, Jeff, I haven't done this in five years." The state ment was completely innocent, but Jeff felt like she had

punched him in the ribs.

"I'm sorry, Bobbie."

"Oh Jeff," Bobble said as she immediately realized her mistake, "I didn't mean it that way!" Bobbie brought them to a halt with a hand on Jeff's arm. She could see he was still hurt.

"It's time we talk, Jeff," Bobbie said quietly. "I know it's suppertime, so if you don't want it to be now, then we need to plan on another time. You need to understand why I didn't come back for all those years. Otherwise I'm going to have to weigh everything I say to you."

"I think you might be right. Why don't you plan on having supper at my house tomorrow night and we'll go for a walk afterward."

"That sounds fine, and you'd better head back now because it looks like it's going to rain."

They were almost to Bobbie's house as Jeff agreed. Bobbie entered the house to find the family just sitting down. She had forgotten that Troy was having Carla Johnson over for the evening. Stuart, Alice, and the

twins would be joining them later for dessert.

"Hi, everyone. Sorry I'm late."

"That's all right, we haven't really started," Jake assured his daughter.

Bobbie, who had been feeling preoccupied with her discussion with Jeff, found her mind moving to other things during the meal, the foremost of which was Troy's demeanor toward Carla.

Across the table from Bobble, with her parents on either end, they were giving her a perfect view of their interplay. Bobbie felt something catch in her throat time

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and again over the way Troy leaned to hear Carla when she spoke.

Carla was a very sweet girl; Bobbie remembered her well from school. She had beautiful brown hair and it was obvious that Troy was devoted to her. Bobbie thought, with a certain bias, that Carla wouldn't find a man more wonderful than Troy, and if the look in Carla's green eyes was any indication, she felt the same way.

The meal began to drag for Bobbie. It was becoming increasingly hard to watch her brother in the beginning stages of love. Something almost resentful rose up in her over the fact that Cleve had never been as solicitous to her as Troy was being to Carla.

Bobbie immediately confessed the thought. It was unfair of her to judge Cleve in such a way. She knew what he was and it had never bothered her in the past that he didn't make over her all the time.

Even as Bobble told herself this, she knew it wasn't entirely true. She did want someone who would look at her with love-filled eyes and who listened when she spoke because he believed what she had to say was important. But there was something else--something that Bobbie had not wanted to face. Bobbie wanted, no
needed,
a man who would be a spiritual leader in her home the way her father was. Bobble knew that Cleve did not fit the bill.

He had admitted to her on more than one occasion that he had a hard time reading the Bible. And one time when they had discussed memorization, he told her he thought it was a waste of time. 'dter all, I've got the whole Book right here," had been his words, and they had bothered Bobbie immensely.

Bobbie often shared with him from the latest passage she had been reading, but Cleve never reciprocated. And

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another thing--she worried about his concept of prayer because of yet another conversation they had had.

"Will you be praying with me, Cleve? I've misplaced my spare set of glasses and I really want to find them."

"Honestly, Robbie, you don't actually bother God with those types of things, do you?"

"Well, yes," Bobbie had answered uncertainly. "I mean, whenever I need help of any kind, I go to God. What sort of things do you pray about, Cleve?"