“The only way I'm ever leaving this valley is if God pries me out. I belong here.” Sucking in a lungful of air, he scanned the meadows and mountains. “There's good hunting and fishing, and I've never seen better soil.”
He looked at Laurel. “You're still set on leaving?”
“Yes. I want to go to school. I want more than this. I'll stay until next summer's harvest is in though.”
“Sometimes more is less,” Robert said, nudging a stone with the toe of his boot. He looked at Laurel, his eyes serious. “Sometimes in the battle to get what we want, we lose sight of what's really important.”
Laurel felt uncomfortable under Robert's gaze. Trying to make light of his words, she said, “You sound like a philosopher. You sure you never went to college?”
He chuckled. “I swear. I barely made it through high school. Never liked school much. I like working outdoors where you can smell the earth and plants. And it's a wonder the way things grow. I even like the feel of sweat rolling down my back.”
Laurel knew the mindset. Her father had it. “I understand; I just don't feel the same way.”
The women who'd been complaining earlier walked out with boxes of food in their arms. Their children followed, carrying smaller packages. The line moved forward, and Laurel stepped up to the door.
“Are you next?” a woman asked.
Laurel peered into the nearly dark store. A young woman about her age smiled from behind a counter. She was pretty with blonde, wavy, shoulder-length hair and sky-blue eyes. She reminded Laurel of a forget-me-not.
“Can I help you?” the girl asked, smiling at Laurel, then looking at Robert. She tossed her hair off one shoulder.
Laurel stepped up to the counter. “We need supplies.”
The girl turned a ledger around so it faced Laurel. “Sign your name and your husband's and any children's names.” She held out a pencil.
“We're not married,” Laurel said, taking the pencil. She could feel heat rush to her cheeks. “I'm Laurel Hasper, and this is Robert Lundeen. We're just friends.”
The clerk smiled. “I'm sorry. I just assumed.” She cast a flirtatious glance at Robert. “I'm Celeste Townsend. It's good to meet you both. I hope you'll like living here.” She looked at Laurel. “Are you here with your family?”
“Yes,” Laurel said, wondering about Celeste's last name. Wasn't it the same as that awful man at the drawing?
“Well, you'll have to sign for you and your family.”
Laurel wrote the names of everyone in her family, then handed the pencil back to Celeste. “Did you say your last name is Townsend?”
“Yes.”
“I think I saw your father at the drawing yesterday.”
“He was there.” Celeste wrote in the ledger, then turned the page so quickly she tore it. “I hope he behaved himself.” She offered a smile.
“As far as I know,” Laurel said, confused by Celeste's intonation.
“He's mad as a bull locked in a barn. He thinks this valley belongs to the homesteaders and no one else.”
Laurel stared at her, uncertain what to say.
“I'm glad the colonists are here. The valley could use more young people.” She pushed the ledger toward Robert. “And there certainly aren't any local boys I'd want to marry.” She let the sentence hang like an invitation.
Laurel suppressed a smile.
Looking at Robert, Celeste asked, “Are you the head of a family?”
“Yes.”
The light dimmed in her eyes.
“My father died before he could make the trip, so I'm taking care of my mother and two sisters.”
Celeste's smile returned. “You'll need to sign the list.”
“Sure.” He leaned over the counter and began writing.
Turning her attention to Laurel, Celeste said, “You have a big family. Are you the oldest?”
“Yes. Nineteen.”
Celeste lifted two boxes from a stack and set them on the counter. Walking to a row of shelves along a back wall lined with canned goods, she grabbed several cans. She set them in the smaller of the two boxes. “I was told to start you off with basic goods, then when you need more, you can come back in.” She hefted a bag of flour off the floor and set it on the counter.
“I didn't bring anything to haul this home,” Laurel said.
Celeste set a bag of sugar in the bigger box. “I can help you. I'll be off work in a few minutes.”
“I wouldn't want to put you out.”
“It's no bother. I haven't got anything else to do.”
“All right then.”
