“Sounds like fun.”
Celeste looked at Robert. “Would you like to go?”
“Sure.”
Patricia Lundeen walked out of the church. “Oh, Robert, there you are. We need to get home. We have a lot to do this afternoon.” Joanna and Veronica skipped down the steps and headed toward the tent compound. Patricia smiled at Laurel. “It's good to see you, dear. How've you been?”
“Very well.”
“And your family?”
“They're fine. Daddy and Luke are clearing the land, but Daddy's beginning to worry that the house won't be finished before winter.”
“Oh, I know. It's a worry for all of us.” She brushed a stray hair off her face and gazed at the nearby mountains. Unexpectedly, her eyes shimmered with tears. “I just wish my Charlie had lived to see it.”
Robert placed an arm around his mother's shoulders. “He has.”
Patricia patted her son's hand and offered him a brave smile.
“We need to get home,” Robert said. Looking at Laurel, he added, “I'll see you later.” He offered Celeste a smile, then escorted his mother down the steps.
Celeste watched him go. “Too bad.”
“Too bad, what?”
“Too bad he's crazy about you.”
“He is not. We're just friends.”
Celeste walked down the steps, and Laurel followed. “There aren't enough good men in this valley, and it's just my luck that when one comes along he's interested in someone else.” She took Laurel's arm. “That's all right.” She smiled brightly. “I won't hold it against you. I like you too much.”
Laurel stopped. “Why do you think he's interested in me?”
“It's plain as the nose on your face.” She shrugged. “What is—is.”
“What's as plain as the nose on my face?”
“Well, for one thing, he's always looking at you. And his tone changes when he talks to you—more considerate, you know.”
“I'm not interested in Robert. If you like him—”
“Oh, no. I'm not falling into that trap. This is how it works. You reject him, he needs a friend and I'm it; then when he gets over you, he doesn't need me anymore.”
“You're much prettier than me. You must have lots of boyfriends.”
“There've been some, just not any I'm interested in.” Celeste picked a buttercup. “I might have to leave the valley to find someone.”
“Would you really?”
Celeste frowned. “No, I couldn't do that. I'm the only one my father has. I couldn't leave him.” They strolled toward the road. “Besides, I like it here. I don't guess there's any place like it in the world.” Celeste plucked the petals off the buttercup while reciting, “He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.” She continued until the last petal. “He loves me not.” She tossed the stem aside. “See, I told you.”
“It's just a flower, not a prophecy.”
“Time we got home,” Ray Townsend said, striding up to his daughter and casting a hateful glance at Laurel before leading Celeste away.
Will sat in the rocker, reading the latest edition of the Anchorage newspaper. All of a sudden he slapped it onto his lap. “I can't believe what they're saying.”
Laurel stopped peeling a potato and said, “Who's saying what?”
“Nothing. Never mind. It's nothing.”
“Daddy.”
“Won't do any good to read it. It'll only get everyone all hepped up.”
“Daddy,” Laurel said again.
“All right. It says that some of the colonists are unhappy and grumbling about conditions. Several want to return to the states. They have quotes I can't believe. If they're true, I'm ashamed.” He scanned the story. “Some are saying conditions are bad, that we're mistreated because we live in tents. One man's complaining because we don't have radios or free movies for the kids.” His voice grew louder. “Another fella's griping because his house is the wrong color.”
He looked at Jean. “I haven't heard any of that kind of talk. There's some griping about the mud and mosquitoes and the government's foul-ups, but this is foolishness.”
“What else does it say?” Jean asked, settling Susie in her crib.
“Some congressmen want to send all of us back to the states. They say the plan was a bad idea.”
“Well, I'm not going back,” Jean said.
