Read Worthy of Riches Online

Authors: Bonnie Leon

Worthy of Riches

Dedication

To my brother Bruce, who knows and loves Alaska.
Thank you for sharing your many adventures.
This story would not be the same without them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 1

MARCH 1937

 

JEAN ADDED SPLIT BIRCH TO THE FIREBOX, THEN FILLED TWO CUPS WITH TEA and placed them on the table. Then she took pen, ink, and paper from a kitchen cabinet and sat across from her daughter. “Thank goodness Susie's asleep. Now we can plan for the wedding.”

Laurel stirred sugar into her tea and rested her face in her hand. “One more month and I'll be Mrs. Adam Dunnavant.” She sipped her tea. “It's hard to believe that when I first met Adam I detested him. All I could see was an arrogant meddler.” She grinned. “I must say, he was a handsome meddler though. Those blue eyes caught my attention right off, and the way his hair curls onto his forehead reminds me of a sweet boy.”

Laurel slowly shook her head. “I was so wrong about him.”

Jean brushed auburn hair off her neck. “I have to admit, in the beginning I didn't think too highly of Adam either. He seemed awfully bold and brash with his camera and pencil, intruding into everyone's business. Even if he
was
a reporter, it didn't seem right.” Jean smiled, her amber eyes sparkling. “I'm glad I was wrong.”

“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if King Edward hadn't abdicated his throne for Mrs. Simpson,” Laurel said. “Adam might still be in London.”

Dipping a pen in ink, Jean said, “We need to get this list taken care of. We still have a lot to do before the wedding.”

Laurel leaned on the table. “Jessie said she'd take care of the flowers. You know how much she loves plants and living things. I'm sure she'll do a beautiful job.”

Jean wrote down Jessie's name. “It's too early for wildflowers.”

“She knows a woman who grows flowers indoors.” Laurel took another sip of her tea, then looked at the golden liquid. “Jessie's the one who got me drinking tea—all those hours at her place recording her husband's notes.” A sad expression crossed Laurel's face. “After I'm married, I won't be able to work with her much. I'll miss it. I have to admit, working on a book about Alaska made me feel kind of important.”

“You're not going to give it up altogether, are you?”

“No. Jessie said we'll keep working but at a slower pace.”

“Good. I'm glad you're going to finish. Folks on the outside ought to know more about Alaska and its history.”

“I still have so many notes to go through and record. I'm beginning to think we'll never finish.” Laurel set her cup on the table. “It's sad her husband died. I wonder if she's lonely, especially since she never had any children.” Laurel looked squarely at her mother. “Maybe we ought to find someone for her.”

Jean held up her hands. “Oh, no. I'm not getting involved in match-making. Seems to me Jessie's more than happy just as she is, and she ought to know her own mind by now. She's lived alone for a good number of years. I don't think she'd appreciate our meddling.”

Jean redipped the pen. “All right now, enough of this. Back to the wedding. Since it's at 11:00, people are going to get hungry. I think we ought to make some sandwiches and maybe have some salads. Norma Prosser said she'd bake and decorate the cake. She's a wonder in the kitchen.”

“Good.”

Jean wrote down Norma's name and beside it,
cake. “
The reverend said April 10 will be just fine. He asked if we could all be at the church the night before for the rehearsal.”

Emptying her cup, Laurel said, “It seems strange to practice a wedding. I'll feel silly.”

“We won't go through the ceremony. The reverend will just make sure we all know where to stand and how it's all going to take place.” Jean set the pen in its holder. “Since Celeste is going to be your maid of honor, will her father be there?”

“Ray Townsend at a Hasper wedding? I think he'd rather die.”

“Just thought I ought to ask since he's your best friend's father.”

Laurel folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. “He detests me, and he hates Daddy even more. I think just the sight of an outsider gets him riled. Now he's threatening to turn in any colonist who bypasses the co-op.”

“I'm still praying for him. Maybe he'll have a change of heart.”

“He'll never change, and I'm sure he won't be at the wedding. I wouldn't want him there anyway.”

“It would certainly raise a stir.” Jean grinned. “Oh well, what Ray Townsend does or doesn't do is between him and God. It has nothing to do with us.” She looked back at her list. “Oh, Celeste told me she'd talked to you about the bridal shower?”

“She said she wanted to have one and that we could use the community building.” Laurel frowned. “I don't know how I feel about it. After what happened with Robert, it doesn't seem right. I mean, we had a shower when I was going to marry him; it doesn't seem right to have another one.”

Jean reached across and patted Laurel's hand. “Everyone understands about you and Robert. They were surprised when you called off the wedding, but it's better to do that than to marry a man you don't love.”

“I know, but I feel strange having another shower. It's only been a few months. I'm embarrassed.”

“It'll be fine. Celeste is your best friend. She'll feel badly if she can't do this for you, and I actually believe she'll have more fun this time, considering how she feels about Robert.”

Laurel smiled. “I'm glad they're going around together. She fell for him the first time she saw him.” She took a deep breath. “All right. We'll have a shower.”

“Did she tell you when she wanted to do it?”

“A week before the wedding, Friday, April 3.”

“All right then.” Jean wrote down
shower
and the date alongside Celeste's name. “We can serve coffee at the wedding, but I think we ought to have punch too. Grandma Hasper's punch recipe has always been a favorite.”

“Can we get the lemons?”

“That shouldn't be a problem, but I'll check.” Leaning back, Jean ran her hands through her hair. “There's so much to think about—so many details.” She studied her daughter. Laurel was a taller, younger replica of herself, with long auburn hair and hazel eyes.

Laurel smiled. “The house is nearly finished. Adam's done a wonderful job. He's a good carpenter. I guess that's one good thing that came out of his growing up in that dreadful orphanage.” She shuddered. “Every time I think of that horrible Mr. Hirsch and how he treated the boys, I want to cry.”

“You can be proud of Adam, especially considering all he's been through.”

“I can hardly wait to move into the house and make it ours. It's sad that so many colonists left, but at least the empty farmland is still available. Adam and I can be thankful for that. We'll have a fine farm one day.”

Uneasiness settled over Jean. She wasn't at all sure that Adam should give up his career as a reporter. It had meant everything to him. “Are you sure farming's what you ought to do? Adam's a writer.”

“It's new for him, but he's excited to try. I'm sure he can do it. He can do anything he sets his mind to do.”

“Farming's a far cry from living in Chicago and writing for an important newspaper like the
Tribune.”

“He wants to farm, and he'll do it. Just look at the house he's built for us. And he's already making plans for sowing barley and wheat. We have a good piece of land. There's no reason why we can't make it.”

Jean put on her kindest expression. “I know what it's like to be young and full of dreams. It wasn't so long ago that I was in your place. I haven't forgotten. But sometimes dreams don't turn out the way we plan. I just wish you two would step back a bit and pray about this.”

“You don't want us to get married?”

“Of course I want you to get married. I think you are meant for each other. It's just that I wonder if Adam will be happy as a farmer. Maybe he ought to do something else. The depression has eased some with President Roosevelt's new ideas.”

“He's already decided, Mama.” Laurel's voice had taken on a sharp tone.

Jean reached out and covered her daughter's hand. “I just want you two to be as happy as your father and I have been. What if Adam wants to go back to Chicago? Or take up traveling again? What will you do?”

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