“We must be able to do something,” Laurel said.
“Oh, I can talk to their fathers and they'll catch it, but legally …” he shrugged. “You can try—”
“No need,” Robert said.
“I'm going to talk to Mr. Townsend! He can't get away with this!”
“Leave it be.” Robert dabbed his bloodied lip. “You don't know it was him. Let's get home.”
Laurel's anger grew, and she pressed harder on the accelerator. Snow-covered roadway disappeared beneath the truck. It was all so unjust. In the morning, she'd give Ray Townsend a piece of her mind. They bounced through a hole, and Robert groaned. “I'm sorry.” Laurel slowed. “You all right?”
“Yes,” he said.
Laurel pulled into the drive. Her mother and father would help. “Let's get you inside,” she said and started to open the door.
Robert grabbed her arm. “Wait. I don't want your parents to see me like this.” He grimaced. “I want to talk for a minute.”
“You need doctoring.”
“I'll take care of it when I get home.”
Laurel settled back. “You say I'm stubborn?”
Robert carefully turned until he faced Laurel. “I'm real sorry about tonight. I wanted you to have a good time.”
“None of this was your fault.”
“Yeah, I know, but I still feel bad.” He stared at the dash. “I've been thinkin' … about you and me.” He said nothing for several moments, then slammed his fist down on the dash. “I wanted this to be special. Instead I'm mad and all beat up.”
His face and eyes were swelling and bruised. “Oh, Robert, your poor face.” Laurel caressed his cheek. “I don't blame you for being angry.”
He caught hold of her hand. “No. You don't understand. I … I wanted to talk to you.” He paused. “I know you don't have special feelings for me, but I wish you'd give me a chance.”
Her heart hammered. What could she say? She didn't want to hurt him. He was good and kind, everything she should want in a man. “Robert, I don't know how I feel about you just yet,” she finally said.
“I'm crazy about you, have been ever since we first met. All I want to do is be with you—to look into your eyes, touch your hair …” He acted as if he might reach out to her, but he didn't. His eyes settled on her mouth. “Your smile makes the world come alive for me.”
Robert's devotion stunned Laurel. She'd known he was interested but hadn't understood how deeply he cared. How could she hurt him?
He took her other hand in his. “I know you don't love me, but would you just think about giving us a chance?” He gazed at her, his brown eyes lit with love. “I'm not going to play games. I want to marry you, Laurel, but I know you're going to need some time. Would you just let me court you?”
Laurel's mind reeled. What was the right thing to do? Could she learn to love him? Her parents would be pleased if she married him. She searched his eyes. He was handsome, kind, honest.
“Laurel?”
“All right, Robert. We can see each other. And I'll think about the rest.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
LAUREL STOPPED TYPING AND RESTED HER HANDS ON THE KEYS. AFTER working for several hours, she was exhausted. Stretching her arms over her head, then kneading the back of her neck, she gazed out the window. Snow had started falling again. She'd planned on stopping by Ray Townsend's on her way home. Somebody has to stand up to him. She stared at the snow. Maybe tomorrow, she thought with a sigh.
“You look tired, dear,” Jessie said. “I'll pour us the last of the hot chocolate, then you can be on your way home.”
“That sounds good.” Laurel stood, stretching from side to side.
Jessie shuffled into the kitchen. “Looks like another storm is moving in. Hope it's not a bad one. We've already had our share this winter.”
Laurel walked to the window and stared out at a white world. Snow had drifted against the house and would have buried the windows if she hadn't brushed them clear each visit. Icicles stretched from roof to white floor. Trees stood naked, their limbs encased in heavy frost.
Laurel squinted, trying to identify a pair of animal tracks, but the twilight made it difficult to see. She sighed. For weeks now, the days had seemed more dark than light. She missed the milder, brighter winters of Wisconsin. Mentally adjusting her mood, she walked into the kitchen. Wallowing in gloom wouldn't change a thing.
Jessie filled two mugs. “Here you go,” she said, handing one to Laurel.
Laurel breathed in the rich aroma. “Mmm.” She took a sip. “Good.” Leaning against the counter, she gazed out a tiny window. “Don't the short days bother you?”
Jessie set the empty pot in the sink. “Sometimes.” Using a hand pump, she filled the pan with water. “But I can't change things, so I try not to think about it.” She turned and faced Laurel. “I get to feeling gloomy from time to time.” She crossed the room, chucked two pieces of wood in the stove, then returned to her drink. “I think you've got cabin fever. A lot of Alaskans fight it. I expect it'll be rougher for you this year since it's your first winter.” She smiled. “Don't despair. Spring will arrive before you know it, then summer. And you forget.” She limped to the front room and eased herself into a chair.
Laurel sat across from her.
With a cup cradled in her hands, Jessie gazed out the window. “In spite of my winter gloomies, I wouldn't live anywhere else. Alaska is wonderful and awful, but it's real. Here, the cycles of life are fleeting but breathe vitality.”
“Are you ever homesick for California?”
Jessie smiled whimsically. “Sometimes. Mostly what I miss is my youth.” Her eyes sparkled. “I was quite lively and daring in my heyday, always searching for a new challenge.”
She took a drink. “I was the only one in my family to go to college. In those days women became homemakers. My parents were proud of my achievements and encouraged me to go ahead with my education. I met Steward at the university. We were both majoring in history. The first time I met him he was studying for a final in the library. He looked up at me over his round, wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes so serious. I was smitten.” She chuckled.
