Worthy of Riches (33 page)

“Yes. Of course.” She glanced at the house. “I'll need someone to stay with the children. I'm sure Adele will watch them for me. Just give me a few minutes to get them bundled up and ready to go.”

The children were safely settled at the Jenkins's in less than ten minutes, and Ray and Jean were on their way to the train station. “How bad was the derailment?” Jean asked, doubting Ray knew but needing to ask just in case.

“Like I said, what came over the wireless was pretty vague. It just said the train had derailed and injuries were expected. I wish I knew more.” Driving fast for the conditions, he gripped the wheel while the car bounced through frozen potholes and slid over packed snow. He glanced at Jean. “I'm sure our kids are fine.”

Jean didn't respond, her mind imagining the worst. She prayed for God's mercy and his miracles.
I can't lose anyone else, Father. I just can't do it.

Cars crowded the small depot. Families had come to wait. Looking fragile, Alex and Mattie's mother stood leaning against the building. She was small with graying hair pulled back from her face. Jean approached her, not knowing how to help. “Hello, Mrs. Lawson.” The woman's eyes filled with tears. Jean took her hand. “They'll be all right. God's looking out for them. I know it.”

The tiny woman only nodded and tried to quiet her quivering chin.

Jean stepped inside the depot, hoping for more information. The man at the desk didn't know any more than what Ray had told her. The room was overcrowded and warm, so Jean returned to the outdoor platform, welcoming the cold air.

“There you are,” Jessie said, walking up to her and pulling her into a tight hug. “I came as soon as I heard. I've been praying nonstop.”

Jean stepped away. Clutching the older woman's hand, she said, “I'm scared.”

Laurel felt queasy and shaky. The pains were still coming, but thankfully they hadn't worsened. Still, Laurel was frightened. What if they weren't rescued? Hours had passed, and they were still trapped. She shivered. It was cold, and the storm had intensified.

Celeste sat down beside her. “How are you feeling?”

“About the same, but kind of sick.”

“A lot of people are feeling sick. I think it's the cold and the fear. Try not to worry. Someone will be here soon.”

Pain hit Laurel, spreading across her back and over her abdomen. She chewed on her lip.

“You having another one?”

Laurel nodded.

“Even if this is labor, first babies take hours and hours. Everyone says so. You'll be in Palmer in plenty of time.” She smiled, but even Celeste couldn't disguise her apprehension.

Adam returned with a cup of tea. “Here, I thought you might like some. The porter made it.” When he talked, the air fogged.

“It's getting colder. What if they don't come soon?” Laurel asked.

“They'll be here.” He handed the tea to her and tucked the blankets in tighter. “Everything's going to be fine.”

“Everyone keeps saying it's going to be fine, but how does anyone know?” Laurel gazed out at the black night. Winds howled and frozen pellets spattered the window. “No one's going to come for us in this weather.”

“Rescue teams do what they have to. You watch; they'll send out sled dogs or something.”

“If they come, do you think they'll bring a doctor?”

“Of course.”

Another pain tugged at her abdomen. It didn't hurt too badly. Maybe this wasn't real labor. Laurel closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat.
Father, please keep my baby safe. Don't let it be born out here.

Laurel knew the baby would probably die if it came this early, no matter where it was born. It would be too tiny to survive. She grabbed Adam's hand. “Maybe we should have moved to Chicago. At least they have good hospitals there.”

“Dr. Donovan is a good man. He knows what he's doing.”

“I shouldn't have come today.”

Adam gently smoothed back her amber hair.

Tears seeped from Laurel's eyes. “I always have to do things my way. I'm sorry.”

“Hush.” Adam kissed her brow. “You and the baby will be fine. Remember, the doctor said it's normal to have pains the last couple of months.”

“I know, but the ones I'd been having didn't hurt. These do.”

Robert peeked around from behind Adam. He offered Laurel an encouraging smile. “We'll be on our way before you know it.”

Another hour passed before the barking of dogs carried over the winds. “They're here!” someone shouted.

The storm was too severe to allow anyone to leave the train, but the sleds brought a doctor and a nurse who immediately went to work suturing lacerations, binding sprains and breaks, and soothing the injured. Adam managed to get a nurse to look at Laurel.

“You think you might be in labor?” the pretty nurse asked.

“It's my first one. I'm not sure,” Laurel said.

The nurse placed a stethoscope against Laurel's abdomen and listened. “The baby sounds good and strong.” She rested a hand on Laurel's abdomen and waited. After Laurel had three of the cramping pains, the nurse removed her hand and smiled. “You and the baby are fine. I don't think you're in true labor. The contractions are irregular, and they're not strong.” She patted Laurel's arm. “You don't have to worry. A truck is making its way here, and we'll have everyone out of the train soon.”

“Thank you so much,” Laurel said. “I can't believe you made it here in the storm.”

The nurse grinned. “When I came up from Seattle, I didn't expect to be mushing through a blizzard to treat patients, but life is full of surprises.” She moved on.

The storm had quieted by the time three army trucks with canvas-covered beds slogged through the snow. Adam and Robert helped transfer passengers from the train to the trucks. They were especially gentle with Laurel. Once in a truck, she made her way to a bench along the side
of the bed and sat. The seat was hard and cold, but at least they were protected from the weather and on their way home.

Adam climbed in and sat beside Laurel. Exhausted, Laurel leaned against him. She'd be happy to get home.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

“Better. I'm not having as many cramps,” she said, closing her eyes and longing for sleep. But there would be no rest. The going was slow as the truck ground its way through fresh powder. It slid and bumped, and Laurel wondered more than once if they were going to end up off the road.

Her back ached and the pains had increased again, but she said nothing to Adam, not wanting to worry him. She pulled a wool blanket up under her chin and imagined how it would feel to crawl into bed and sleep.

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Ray leaned against the outside wall of the depot while Jean paced the platform. “It's been hours,” she said. “We should have heard something by now.”

“We'll hear.”

Stepping outside and wearing her usual calm expression, Jessie offered Jean a cup of coffee. “Here, drink this. It'll warm you up.” She glanced at Ray. “Would you like some?”

“No. I've already had too much.”

Jean cradled the cup between her gloved hands. She gazed down the tracks. “What's happening out there? Why won't anyone tell us?”

“They don't know anything,” Ray said.

“What if no one can get to them? It's so cold.”

Jessie smiled softly. “Now Jean, God knows all about the weather. He'll take care of our loved ones.” She smiled, and the creases at the corners of her eyes deepened. Resting a hand on Jean's shoulder, she squeezed. “Maybe you ought to go home and get some sleep. I'll make sure to let you know when we hear something.”

“I can't leave.”

“Brian and Susie are probably needing you, and you can't do anything here.”

A jolt of reality rolled through Jean. She'd forgotten about Brian and Susie. “Of course. You're right.” She stared down the tracks, willing the train home. “I need to go.” She turned her eyes on Jessie. “You promise to send someone for me as soon as you hear?”

“I promise.”

“I'll take you home,” Ray offered.

“Thank you,” Jean said, close to tears. Ray's kindness only made it harder to maintain her self-control. She needed Will. He'd always been there to help her face a crisis. “All right. Let's go.”

Leaving the protection of the depot, snow pelted her and wind ripped at her coat. She ducked inside the car and settled into the seat. Ray hurried around to the other side and climbed in. “It's getting worse again,” Jean said. “Is it safe to drive?”

“Sure. I've driven in worse.” He started the engine and eased onto the road.

Ray stopped at the Jenkins's and picked up Brian and Susie. Before returning to the depot, he helped get them into bed. Leaving Susie snug, he crossed the hallway to Brian's room.

Jean gave Brian a kiss.

“Mom, tonight would it be OK if Mr. Townsend said prayers with me?”

“Of course,” Jean said, glancing at Ray. She walked to the doorway and waited.

Tucking the blankets up around the youngster, he stood. Brian caught his hand. “I'm scared. What if something bad happens to Luke and Laurel? And what about Adam and the baby? Could you pray with me?”

“Sure,” Ray said, kneeling beside the bed. Brian kept a tight hold on his hand. “I suppose we ought to close our eyes,” Ray said. Brian squeezed his shut. With a smile Ray closed his and began, “Dear Father in heaven, we know you're with our loved ones. But even knowing that, we're scared. So, Lord, we ask you to take good care of Luke, Laurel and the baby, Adam, Celeste, and all the others on that train. Bring them home safe and sound.” Ray paused. “We know you're in charge of this world and everything in it and that we can trust you, but sometimes we forget. Give us peace. And I ask especially that you would help Brian and
Susie and their mama to get a good sleep. Remind them that you're watching over all of us. Amen.”

Brian smiled up at Ray and threw his arms around the big man's neck. “Thank you. You pray almost as good as my dad. I wish you could be my new dad.”

Ray glanced at Jean. Her face had turned red, and he offered her a small smile. He cleared his throat. “Brian, bein' your father would be a real honor, but I can't be. You already have a father. How about if we're just good friends?”

“I guess, but I still wish you were here all the time.”

“I'll be here whenever you need me.” Ray patted Brian's hand, then stood and walked out of the room.

“Good night,” Jean said and turned out the light.

“Night.” Brian sat up. “Mama, would you mind if Mr. Townsend was my new dad?”

“Well, it's not a matter of minding. I like Mr. Townsend. He's a fine man, but he's not your father.”

“I know, but Daddy's not here, and I like Mr. Townsend. He's almost like my dad.”

“He's a good, good friend, and you can thank God for that,” Jean said with finality. “Now, good night.”

When Jean walked out, Ray stood in the hallway. He glanced at her, then shaking his head, said, “I don't deserve those kids' love.”

Jean hugged herself about the waist and leaned an arm against the wall. She asked softly, “Why do you say that?”

“I've done more bad than good in my life. Seems after all that, I ought to be punished rather than … well, rather than loved. My daughter's been so forgiving and now Brian and Susie.”

“God doesn't always give us what we deserve. We're all evil. No one is perfect. But he loves us anyway.” She smiled softly. “The miracle is that when he sacrificed his Son, all believers were made worthy of riches. We can stand before God sinless and pure. Even you, Ray Townsend.” She grinned, then headed for the stairs. Stopping at the landing, she said, “I don't think you understand how much you've done for us. I owe you a lot.”

Ray's face crumpled in anguish. “How can you say that? Your husband would be alive today if it weren't for me.”

“How many times do I have to say what happened wasn't your fault before you'll believe it?” Keeping her hand on the balustrade, she took a step. “I'll pray you come to understand that and how important you are—not just to us, but to God.” With that, Jean walked down the stairs.

JEAN ROLLED OUT COOKIE DOUGH WHILE LAUREL HELPED SUSIE REMOVE A cookie cutout and set it on a baking sheet. “It's pretty,” Susie said, patting the bell-shaped cookie.