Worthy of Riches (31 page)

“We could listen to the Mukluk news.”

“You have any music? I don't get to listen to it much.”

Feeling a little unsettled, Jean set her pie on the end table and crossed to the phonograph. Opening the cabinet, she fingered several records. “How about 'East of the Sun' or 'I Got Rhythm' or …”

“You pick. I don't know much about music.”

Jean selected “I've Got Rhythm.” It seemed safe enough. She returned to the sofa. “You like music?”

“Yeah, but I don't know any of the newfangled stuff.” Ray took another bite of pie and gently tapped his fork against his plate to the rhythm of the song. He grinned. “This would give Mrs. Dexter something to gossip about, wouldn't it?”

Jean set her fork on her plate. “I guess it would,” she said, realizing the atmosphere was far too romantic for two adults who were only friends. She sipped her coffee and steered the conversation to a more comfortable topic. “Actually, I'm sorry Miram's parents are leaving town. This is hard on her.”

“I think it's time she got out of that house.”

“Yes, but getting out of the house and being left here while her family moves hundreds of miles away are two different things. She needs her independence, but not like this.”

“How's it working out having her here?”

“Good. Oh, we had our adjustments in the beginning, but she's a fine person and a lot of help. Now it feels like she belongs here.”

A strong gust of wind hit the house. Jean and Ray glanced out the window. All they could see was blackness. “The wind's picking up. Probably another storm,” Jean said.

“When I was out at the barn earlier, the temperature was dropping.” Ray pushed himself to his feet. “I ought to get home.” He headed for the kitchen, coffee cup and plate in hand. “Wouldn't want to give the gossips too much ammunition.”

Jean joined Ray at the sink and ran water into both their cups. Although Ray's arm pressed against hers, she didn't feel awkward. It seemed natural to be standing side-by-side at the sink.

Ray moved away. “You know, we make jokes about the gossip, but folks have been talking. Not just Margarite.” He paused. “I don't want
anyone thinking badly of you. You're too fine a woman.” He leaned against the counter. “Maybe I ought to stay away for a while. You're pretty much set for wood, and with Miram here you could probably manage most of the milking.”

“We can manage just fine. I never expected you to take on so much of the workload. But I don't want you to stay away. You're a good friend.”

Ray's cheeks flushed. “Thank you. I think of you as a good friend too. But it seems my being here is causing trouble. I can still come around and take care of anything that needs fixin' or anything else that comes up with the animals or whatever, but I'll come, then go. No more meals,” he said glumly.

Jean was tempted to go along with his suggestion, but she knew it was wrong. She folded her arms over her chest and said, “You'll do no such thing. You're a friend of this family—”

“What about Luke?”

“Luke will have to work out his problems. And he will. Just be patient.” Jean rested a hand on Ray's arm. “You're welcome here anytime. And you can stay to supper from time to time if you like. If some people in this town have nothing better to do than gossip, then so be it.” She smiled. “Eventually rumors will die down, and our friends will stand by us.”

“I hope you're right.”

A wail came from upstairs. “Oh, no. That's Susie.” Jean hurried up the stairs. It wasn't normal for her to wake up once she was asleep. Jean hoped her fever hadn't shot up. She opened the door.

The light was on, and Miram was leaning over the little girl. She glanced at Jean. “I think she's worse. She feels awfully hot.”

Jean hurried across the room. Susie's face was bright red. Jean laid a hand on her forehead. “Oh dear, she is really hot.” Jean gathered the little girl in her arms. Heat radiated through Susie's nightgown. “It's all right, sweetheart. Everything's going to be all right.”

“What do you think is wrong? It's not serious, is it?” Miram asked.

“I hope not.” Jean headed for the door. “She needs to see the doctor.” Holding Susie closely, she hurried down the stairs. “Ray, I need to get her to the doctor.” The wind howled, and a smattering of ice tickled the window.

“I'll go for him. You don't want to take her out in this.” Ray shrugged into his coat. “I'll be back in two shakes,” he said and left.

With Susie in her arms, Jean stood at the window and stared out into the darkness. Where was Luke? He should have been back by now.
He's probably in town with Alex,
she decided, hoping she was right.

By the time Ray returned with the doctor, the storm had intensified and snow blew in with them. Luke was still not home, but she'd have to deal with that later.

“Evening, Jean,” the doctor said. He looked at Susie. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks scarlet. “So, what have we here? You not feeling so good?” Susie nodded. “Well, we'll take care of that.” He smiled, fine lines creasing the edges of his mouth and eyes. Susie huddled closer to her mother. The doctor took her from Jean and sat her on the sofa. Ray stood beside the little girl, and she took his big hand in hers. Then he sat on the sofa beside her.

After taking her temperature and listening to her heart and lungs, he said, “Susie, could you open your mouth for me and let me take a look at your throat?”

Susie obediently opened her mouth. “Now, stick out your tongue.” He examined her throat. After taking a good look, he gently kneaded her neck, then did a quick examination of her trunk and legs and palpated her stomach. He straightened. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my head.”

He turned to Jean. “She's fine—nothing serious. I'd say she just has the bug that's going around. Keep her in bed and give her aspirin for that fever. She'll be under the weather for a few days, then she should be fine.” He returned his stethoscope to his bag. “If she develops a cough, bring her in to see me.” Another burst of wind rattled the house. “Sounds like a real storm out there.” He buttoned up his coat.

Ray stood. “I'll take him on home, then head for home myself.”

“No, please don't go,” Susie whined. “I want you to stay.”

“But I have to take the doctor home.”

“After, come back. Please.”

Ray glanced at Jean, his eyes asking her what to do.

“I'll make up a bed on the sofa,” Jean said after a moment's hesitation.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“All right, then. I'll be back just as soon as I can.” Ray bent and kissed Susie's cheek.

She circled her arms around his neck and hugged him. “I love you.”

His cheeks flushed. “I… love you too,” he said and straightened.

“Thank you, Dr. Donovan,” Jean said.

He nodded and left with Ray.

Jean smiled at Miram, who'd been sitting quietly. “People will surely talk now.”

A furrow formed on Miram's forehead. “I wouldn't worry about what others say. I'll set them straight.”

“Maybe having you in the house will quiet some wagging tongues.”

“I hope so.”

After giving Susie an aspirin, Jean took her up to bed, tucked her in, and said prayers. When she returned to the front room, Luke stood munching a raisin cookie and staring out into the darkness. “Was that Ray's truck I saw leaving?”

“Yes.”

“What was he doing here so late?” The question had a sharp edge.

“He's taking Dr. Donovan home.”

“The doc? Why? What happened?”

“Susie's sick.”

“She bad?”

“No. He says it's just a little bug.” Jean headed for the kitchen. “Why are you so late? I was worried.”

Luke followed her. “I was with Alex. We went to a dance in town. I told you.”

Jean nodded and carried the nearly empty coffeepot to the sink where she dumped the last of it, then rinsed it out.

“I don't like Ray being here so late.”

Jean turned and faced Luke. “
You
don't like it? If you'd been home, he wouldn't have had to fetch the doctor for me.” She ran a towel over the pot. “You might as well know. He's coming back and staying the night.”

“What?” Luke nearly choked. “Why?”

“Susie asked him to. She's sick and scared, and she feels safer with him here. I couldn't tell her no.”

“She's a little girl. You can tell her whatever you want.”

Setting the coffeepot on the back of the stove, Jean said, “I don't like your tone, young man. You have no reason to be disrespectful. Your sister's sick, and Mr. Townsend is being kind. There's nothing improper about him staying here if it will make her feel better. He'll sleep on the sofa.” She folded the towel and set it on the back of a chair. “I don't know what you're worried about—you and Miram and the children are here in the house.”

Luke glared and chewed his cookie. “You know how I feel about him spending time here.” His voice rose. “Why did you invite him to stay the night?”

“I didn't. Susie did. Stop yelling. You'll wake the whole house.”

“I don't care who I wake up. That man's not staying here.”

Jean fought to control her emotions. She had to admit that Luke was partially right. There really wasn't a reason for Ray to stay. Susie was already asleep. And people
would
talk.

“He's not staying. I'm telling him to leave when he gets back,” Luke said evenly.

Jean didn't know how to respond. It didn't seem right for her son to dictate to her, but she also understood that he needed to feel respected and to have some say in household decisions. After all, he was a man, this was his house too, and his father had died. “I'll check on Susie,” Jean said, “and I'll tell Ray he doesn't need to stay.”

“Ray? It sounds like you two are getting chummy.”

“I mean, Mr. Townsend.” Jean hadn't realized she'd allowed herself to drop Ray's more formal name. Placing her hands on her hips, she met Luke's eyes. “Doggone it, Luke, I'll call him Ray if I want. He's a friend.”

“He's not my friend. And he never will be. He's a murderer. Have you forgotten?” Luke hesitated. “And why is he your friend? What's happening? He killed your husband.”

“Luke, let's not go through this again.” Jean felt tired, very tired. Without another word she headed up the stairs to check on Susie. She was asleep and felt cooler.

Jean padded out of the room and walked downstairs to her bedroom.
She thought over the events before and surrounding Will's death. Ray hadn't killed Will; it had been an accident, but it did seem strange that someone who had once been her enemy was now a close friend. Was their relationship becoming too casual?

She sat on the sofa to wait. When Ray returned, she'd tell him he had to go. She hated the idea. It was unfair, but then, how often had she told her children that life wasn't fair?

By the time the knock came, Jean was asleep. She roused herself and went to the door, tidying her hair. She opened the door. “Hi. I'm glad you made it back safely.” She glanced over his shoulder. “The storm bad?”

“No, not too bad.”

“Good.” She took a slow breath. “I think it would be better if you stayed at your house tonight. Susie's asleep. She won't know.”

“Sure. That would probably be best.”

Jean nodded. Neither spoke for a moment, then Ray turned and walked away. Feeling weary and sad, Jean closed the door.

LIGHT SNOW, CARRIED ON SOFT BREEZES, SWIRLED AROUND THOSE GATHERED outside the Palmer train station. Temperatures hovered around twenty degrees. Oddly, Laurel didn't feel cold. Usually she tussled to acclimate to the early months of winter when the first frigid weather set in.
Good thing,
she thought.
I'm going to be out in the cold most of the day.
Against Adam's wishes, she'd insisted on joining him and their friends for a day of skiing. She didn't plan on skiing, considering her condition. It would be fun just to watch.

“This was a wonderful idea,” Celeste said, her eyes sparkling. “Alex, I'm so glad you thought of it. Last winter I was so busy working that I only got to the slopes a couple of times.” She looped her arm through Robert's and smiled up at him, then looked at Laurel and Adam. “I get to teach Robert.”

“I've never been,” Robert explained. “Hope I don't make too big a fool of myself.”

“You won't be the only one learning,” Luke said. “I've never been either.” He glanced at Mattie.

She smiled, and her dark eyes shimmered. “I can teach you. I'm not as good as Alex, but I know enough.” She looked at her brother. “Of course, Alex is really good.”

A flush touched Luke's cheeks. “Maybe you both can help.”

Alex grinned knowingly. “I'll show you the basics, then Mattie can take over.”

“All right. Sounds good to me.” Luke grinned. “You're so good at everything. I figured hanging out with you would make me a better swimmer, hunter, and fisherman, but I'll never be as good as you.”

“It's the native blood,” Alex said, a sparkle in his eye.

“Celeste,” Mattie began hesitantly, “your friend doesn't mind that Alex and I are coming along?”

“No. Why? Because you're native?”

“Well, some people don't like being around natives.”

“Mike could care less. I've known him since I was a baby, and he's never paid any mind to whether someone's native or not.” Celeste patted the palms of mitted hands together. “Besides, he's only driving us to the slopes and then back to the train. It's not like we're moving in with him.”

“You worry too much,” Alex said. “People don't care as much as you think.”

Mattie cast her brother a disdainful look but said nothing. Draping a protective arm around Laurel, Adam said, “I tried to get Laurel to stay home, but she insisted on coming.” He smiled at her.

“You worry too much. The baby's not due for another two months—well, almost two months.” She rested a hand on her rounded abdomen. “I feel good, and the doctor said it would be just fine for me to take a day for fun. I won't be doing as much as I do at home—just sitting on a train, then sitting and watching all of you have a good time.” She pressed her lips into a mock pout. “I've never skied before.”

“After the baby, I'll take you,” Adam promised. “After I've written the story of what it's like to have a baby in the Alaskan wilderness.”