Worthy of Riches (25 page)

Laurel looked at Adam. “Maybe we can find a used one.”

“No, I've already thought about it. I sent in a story last week, and I've got another one nearly finished. We have enough money.” He ran his hand over the railing and checked the workmanship. He looked at the sales clerk. “We'll take it.”

With the prized crib and an assortment of sheets, blankets, and other baby items safely tucked away in the back of the truck, Adam drove toward a secluded part of the inlet. Turning down a dirt road, he said, “I was told this is a nice place.”

The street ended abruptly at a bluff overlooking the inlet. He pulled into a turnout and stopped. “Well, this is it, I guess.” He gazed across the broad expanse of water toward distant mountains north of the bay, and then his eyes followed a mountain range to the regal Mt. McKinley.

“What a beautiful spot,” Laurel said. “What's that small mountain there? I remember seeing it when we went to Fire Island.”

“Mt. Susitna. They call it 'The Sleeping Lady,' remember?”

“Why do they call it that?” Brian asked.

“Well, if you look at it just right, it looks like the profile of a woman lying on her side, asleep.”

“Oh, yeah! I can see it!” Brian opened the door and jumped out.

“You stay away from the edge,” Laurel called, stepping out of the truck. The wind caught at her hair and lifted it away from her face. Taking a deep breath, she looked across the bay. “I love the ocean. I wish we could visit more often.”

“Me too. The last time we were here was with Ray Townsend.”

“Oh, that was awful. I thought Luke was going to die.”

“You did?” Brian asked, rejoining them. “But I thought you were praying.”

“I was, but I was still scared,” Laurel said, remembering how frightened she'd been and how quickly her faith had evaporated. “I should have trusted God more.”

“That's the story I sent in, and I think the
Trib's
going to love it.” The wind whipped Adam's hair across his face, and he brushed it back. “I'm hungry.” He lifted a picnic basket out of the back of the truck.

“Can we go down to the beach?” Brian asked.

“Sure. Let's find the trail.” Adam looked at Laurel doubtfully. “I don't know if you want to do any climbing.”

“I want to go down.”

“You sure?”

Laurel nodded.

Grabbing a quilt out of the pickup bed, Adam said, “We can find a sandy place and spread out the blanket.” He headed for the ridge and walked along it until he found a trail. “Here's a way down.”

Brian galloped past Adam.

“Brian, you be careful,” Laurel called.

“I will,” he said without looking back.

Adam took Laurel's hand and steadied her as they went.

When they were nearly at the bottom, Brian called up, “Come on. This is neat!” He didn't wait, but started exploring, stopping to stare into tide pools and occasionally squatting and reaching into the cold water.

Adam led the way to a sandy area just beyond the trail. “This looks good.”

After spreading out the blanket, Adam and Laurel sat and stared at the incoming tide and at Brian who moved from tide pool to tide pool, exploring the wildlife.

“Hey, you hungry?” Adam finally shouted at Brian.

He stuffed something in his pocket, wiped his hands on his pants, and ran across the wet beach toward Adam and Laurel.

Laurel leaned against Adam. “I'm glad we did this. Do you think we'll see any belugas today?”

“Maybe.” Adam studied the sand and mud. “Strange how the color of the beach changes with the seasons. In the middle of the summer it was a jade green, and now it's back to slate gray.”

Brian ran up. “Look what I found.” He dug an iridescent shell out of his pocket.

“That's an abalone shell,” Adam said.

“It's pretty.” Brian studied it a moment longer, then set it on the sand beside the blanket. “Can I go wading after lunch?”

“No,” Laurel said. “There's a lot of mud and sand between here and the water, and I'm not about to let what happened to Luke happen to you.”

“This isn't the same place. I'll be OK.”

“No. Besides, you can explore a lot of other things.”

Brian pouted, but only for a moment, then sat and peeked inside the picnic basket. “I'm hungry. Can we eat?”

“Take a sandwich,” Laurel said.

After lunch Brian busied himself by investigating downed trees along the shoreline and tide pools among the rocks.

“Will the tide come in this far?” Laurel asked, leaning back and resting on her elbows.

“I don't think so. We should be fine here.”

She lay back, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of the sun. “It's awfully warm for this time of year.”

“The cold could settle in any time.”

“Uh-huh,” Laurel mumbled, sleep tugging at her.

The next thing Laurel heard was Brian's voice. He sounded far away and frightened. She bolted upright and scanned the beach. She couldn't see him! “Brian!” she called.

“Help! I'm up here! Help me!”

Laurel stood. “Adam, Brian's in trouble!”

Adam stood beside Laurel and searched the beach and open water.

“Where are you?” Laurel yelled. “Brian!”

“I'm up here. I can't get down,” Brian shouted.

Laurel and Adam stepped away from the cliff wall and looked up, their eyes moving across the face of the bluff. Brian sat on a narrow ledge, his back pressed against the cliff face. Laurel clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Lord!” She grabbed Adam's arm. “What are we going to do?”

Adam ran to the beach just below Brian. Laurel followed. The two stared up. “How in the world did he get up there?” Laurel asked.

“Brian, don't move. We're going to get help,” Adam called, his voice calm.

“I… I'm scared,” Brian said, moving along the ledge.

“Don't move!” Adam yelled as rock and dirt skittered down.

The ledge broke away and Brian slid. Then he grabbed at something and it held. He dangled, facing the cliff and kicking his feet. Then the fragile handhold gave way and he slipped, at first sliding down the face of the cliff, then plummeting the last several feet. Adam tried to break his fall, and the two tumbled to the ground.

For a moment neither moved. Finally Adam sat up. “You all right?”

Brian lay still, breathing hard, then pushed up on one arm and cried out. “It hurts.” He grabbed his right arm.

Laurel kneeled beside her brother. “Let me see.”

“It hurts, bad.”

Gently she touched his arm. “Please, can I see it?”

“No! Don't touch!”

“OK. I won't touch it. Just let me look. Can you move it?”

Brian tried to hold out his arm, then winced and groaned.

“We need to get you to a doctor,” Adam said. “You'll have to be brave. Tuck your arm in close to your body.” He carefully lifted Brian and carried him to the truck.

Several hours later, when they pulled into the Hasper driveway, Jean stepped onto the porch even before they stopped. When she saw Adam carry a sleeping Brian with a cast on his arm, the anxiety on her face deepened. “What happened? I've been worried sick.”

“He's all right,” Adam said. “Just a broken arm. It was a simple break and will heal just fine.”

“What happened?” she asked, her voice laced with accusation. “I told you to watch him, Laurel.”

“I know. It was my fault,” Laurel said. “I fell asleep, and he climbed up a cliff.”

“I wanted to get the big pine cone,” Brian said groggily “For you.”

Jean caressed her son's brow. “That was sweet of you, but you shouldn't have done something so dangerous.”

After Brian was tucked away in bed, Jean joined Adam and Laurel in
the front room. She dropped onto the sofa. “How could you allow him to do such a thing? I shouldn't have let him go.”

“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.”

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.”