“It was great,” Luke answered for Adam. “He talked about all the work we've done, the progress we're making, and how the farms are starting to take shape. He even talked about the lies some folks have been tellin'.”
“I'm glad to hear the truth's getting out,” Will said. “Sometimes it seems the world only wants to listen to lies.”
“Well, I'm not so sure it's what the paper wanted or what people like to read, but it's the truth, and everyone ought to know. I'm hoping the paper likes the story enough to consider me for overseas work.” Adam's eyes momentarily found Laurel's, then he looked at Will and flashed a grin.” The Trib may be looking for a way to get rid of me.”
Jean set a pitcher of milk on the table. “You're going overseas?”
“Well, I don't know exactly when, but I want to go. I'd like to be a correspondent in Europe. It's an exciting time—lots of changes, something rousing to write about every day.”
“It's dangerous though, isn't it?” Jean asked.
“I guess so, but a reporter has to go where the news is. And I've always wanted to travel.”
Will leaned back in his chair. “What about that Hitler fella? According to what I've read, he's stirring up trouble.”
“The American government won't let him go too far,” Robert said. “They'll step in.”
Adam leaned on the table. “I'm not so sure of that. But whatever happens, I want to be there to write about it.”
“Well then, Adam, I hope you get your wish,” Robert said, his tone caustic.
“This is a big day,” Will cut in. He smiled and looked around the table. “Our first meal in our new house here in the Matanuska Valley. We've had our joys and our sorrows. One of us is gone.” His eyes met Jean's. An exchange of grief and support passed between the two. He took her hand. “I'd like to pray before we begin.”
Will bowed his head. Everyone did the same. Even Susie stopped banging her spoon and tried to copy the adults by pressing the palms of her hands together.
Will began, “Father, this is a remarkable day, and we thank you for it. It is truly a miracle that we are sitting here at this table in this house in this magnificent place. Not so long ago, it was just a dream. We praise you for making it real.”
He paused. “This house is made of wood and stone, but you're here. You'll make it a place of love. You'll make it a home, a place where we can live and grow in the grace you've given. May it be a safe shelter for our children and for every person who walks through our door.”
He stopped and glanced at those sitting around the table. “Father, as I said a moment ago, one of us is missing—Justin. We wish he were here to share this time with us.” His voice broke. “But we're thankful he's in your presence.”
Laurel fought tears. She could hear her mother sniffle.
“And Lord,” Will continued, “our friend Adam said he'll be going off to Europe soon. We ask you to keep him in your care. Remind him of your constant presence. Keep your hand upon him.”
Laurel glanced up and caught Adam's surprised and grateful expression. Quickly she closed her eyes.
“And, Father,” Will continued, “bless my beautiful wife who's always stood beside me, helping to keep me strong. She's been a steady helpmate. I couldn't make it through life without her.” He glanced at Jean, then said, “Amen.”
Adam leaned his arms on the table and said, “Thank you for the prayer. I'll remember it.”
“You're welcome.” Will smiled. “Seems to me you've been around enough to be considered part of the family—and we always hold family in high regard.”
Adam stared at Will. “I never had a family. Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
THANKFUL TO LEAVE THE COLD, LAUREL AND HER FAMILY WALKED INTO THE community building. The room smelled of baked goods, roasted meat, cigar smoke, and women's perfume. Some people stood in clusters, chatting. A few couples stood alone, talking quietly. A handful of children hovered near a row of tables laden with food, while their mothers made an effort to keep their youngsters' hands away from the fare. Dodging people as well as tables and chairs, a group of boys kicked a ball back and forth.
“I guess these belong over there,” Jean said, carrying a pan of biscuits to the food table. Laurel followed with a pot of beans, setting them on the table beside her mother's biscuits.
Norma Prosser joined them. “Hello, Jean. Laurel.” She smiled and nodded at each of them. “How does it feel to be in your new house?”
“Wonderful! For a while it seemed we'd always live in a tent.” Jean chuckled. “I would have made it around for a visit, but we've been canning. Will and Luke's fishing's kept us busy putting up salmon. And with all the rest of the canning we've had to do, we haven't had time for socializing.”
“It's the same at our place. I've been meaning to come by, but …” Norma shrugged. “That's how it is this time of year.”
“The root cellar's stocked with carrots, potatoes, and turnips, and the shelves are crowded with canned fruits and berries plus the canned salmon and other meats.” Jean smiled. “It's real comforting to see all that God's provided for our first winter.”
Scanning the table of food, Norma said, “Looks like a lot of us have been blessed.” She lifted her eyebrows in an exaggerated way. “But, oh, the work—although I must say, my Polly's been a real help even though she's just fourteen.”
Jean hugged Laurel around the waist. “Laurel too. I don't know what I'd do without her.”
Laurel forced a smile, hoping it didn't look phony. Normally she wouldn't have minded spending time at home, but she'd been longing to return to Jessie's so she could continue working on Steward's notes. It was much more interesting than gardening and canning, and the extra money was welcomed. Now, with most of winter's preparations completed, she hoped to return to reading and transcribing.
While Jean and Norma talked about their latest sewing projects, children, and recipes, Laurel searched for Celeste. Her friend always knew the latest talk of the valley or world news or the latest gossip about the movies and their stars. She spotted blonde curls. “Mama, Celeste is here.” She smiled at Norma. “It was good to see you again.”
“Wonderful to see you,” Norma said. “You go along and join your friend.”
“Thank you.” Laurel crossed the room.
Celeste saw her and turned on a bright smile. “Hi. I was hoping you'd be here.” She hooked her arm through Laurel's. “In fact, I was counting on it. My father didn't want me to come. He's really mad. But I wanted to celebrate with my colonist friends. So here I am.” She tipped her chin up to emphasize her defiance.
“Is your dad really mad?”
Celeste nodded.
“Why? Why does he hate us?”
