Jean placed her arm around the little girl and pulled her close. “No. Of course not. We'll hear from him soon.”
“I'm enlisting.” Adam stood.
“But you said…” Laurel's voice trembled. “You said you would stay.”
“That was before. Now everything's different. I have a duty—to my country.”
“What about your duty to your family?” Laurel took his hand. “Please, Adam. No.”
“You're thirty-two,” Jean interjected. “That might be too old.”
“I don't think so. I'm strong and healthy.”
“What about your son and your wife?”
Adam looked at William. Then his eyes settled on Laurel and he let out a heavy breath. “I have to do something. Maybe I could be a war correspondent. That wouldn't be as dangerous.”
“Why do you have to go at all?” Laurel asked.
“We have to stand up to the tyrants of the world. There are some things worth fighting for—like freedom.”
Looking defeated, Laurel stood, draped her arms around Adam's neck, and rested her cheek against his chest.
He held her gently. “I just want to do my part.”
Laurel's tears relayed her concession. Adam would go.
“Someone has to record history. I'll be careful.”
Jean pushed to her feet and headed for the kitchen. A kettle banged as she shoved it under running water and then set it down hard on the stove. She reappeared and stood in the doorway. Her lips pressed tightly together, she said nothing for a long moment. “I won't have my family and loved ones getting killed one at a time for some ideal. There must be another way.”
“Jean, honey, it's out of our hands,” Ray said. “Come and sit down. I'll get you a cup of coffee.”
“I don't want coffee. I've had enough coffee.”
Ray walked to her and gently pulled her to him.
Her shoulders drooped, and she pressed her forehead against his wool shirt and cried. “What if he's dead? What if he's gone?”
“He's not dead. He'll be home,” Ray reassured her.
Mattie's anger boiled to the surface. “Men! What's wrong with you? Always fighting, always having to do the honorable thing!” She turned on Adam and glared at him. “Why? Why do you fight?”
Adam stared at her blankly.
Mattie continued, “It's always men! In Europe, Hitler's been pushing his weight around, now the Emperor of Japan has to have his piece of the world, and you,” she said pointedly to Adam. “And…and Luke. He just had to go off to the navy! You can't wait to go and fight! Women aren't like that. Why are you?” She pointed at Jean. “Look what it's doing to your mother-in-law and to your wife. Don't you care?”
“I never said I wanted a war. No one wants war. But sometimes there's no other choice.” Adam was yelling. “If no one stands up to the bullies, they'll rule. Is that what you want?”
Mattie didn't have an answer. She understood the logic of what he was saying, but she couldn't accept war as a choice. More quietly she said, “Maybe freedom isn't worth peoples' lives.” Grief spread through her as she thought of all those who had already died. “Those men in Hawaii—they had families—mothers, brothers, sisters. Those sailors and soldiers aren't coming back. What happened to their freedom?” she asked, her voice shrill.
She pushed past Jean and slammed her half-full cup of coffee down on the counter, then returned to the front room. Standing in front of the window, she watched the snow hurl itself at the house. “I had a teacher once who told me that each snowflake is special, different. There are none the same. But they still melt and disappear.” She whirled around and faced Adam. “They die, just like us.” She bit down on her lip to hold back tears. “Peoples' lives matter. My brother's dead, and my grandmother will be soon. I don't want anyone else I love to die.” Tears came and she swiped them away.
“No one's saying people should die,” Ray said, stepping in. “Sometimes there's nothing to be done about it—the world can be an evil place. And we've all got to do our part to stop the wicked.”
Mattie could feel the fight leave her. “I don't want to help,” she said softly. “I just want to get away. I've been planning on leaving Alaska. Now seems a good time to go. I'm not waiting around to see who comes home, who lives and who dies.”
“Mattie,” Laurel said softly. “It's going to be all right. Luke will be all right.”
“How do you know? He's probably dead right now! Lying in that stinking bay!”
Susie whimpered and Jean pulled her close. “That's enough.”
Realizing what she'd said, Mattie was horrified. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.” She looked at the stunned faces. “I didn't mean it.” She turned and headed for the back door. “I've got to go.”
“Are you really leaving the valley?” Laurel asked.
Mattie didn't turn around. “Yes. I'm taking the first ship to Seattle. I'm not going to have anything to do with this war.”
“You can't run away from it,” Ray said quietly.
She turned and looked at him. “I'm going to try.” She pulled on her coat and gloves and opened the door. “Please don't write. I…I don't want to hear from any of you.”
Chapter 6
RAY WALKED INTO THE FRONT ROOM, A COFFEE MUG IN EACH HAND. “IT'S A little strong,” he said, handing a cup to Jean.
She looked at the black brew, enjoying its heavy aroma. “That's all right. I need it strong,” she said, her voice somber. Standing at the window, she absentmindedly fingered a button on her bathrobe. The white world outside felt bleak to Jean. Wind gusts sifted ice particles into the air. A sudden draft caught at a bush growing alongside the house, and with a faint screech it clawed the window.
