Robert nodded. “Absolutely.” He smiled. “See, we'll come up with the perfect house.” Suddenly Robert caught Laurel up in his arms, lifting her off the ground. “Just think. Spring is nearly here, and we're almost ready to start building our home. The materials ought to be here any time, and I've already got most of the logs cut. Then, come December, we'll be Mr. and Mrs. Lundeen.”
Laurel laughed. “Robert, put me down.”
He set Laurel on her feet, then kissed her, gently as always, never demanding, never without respect. Sometimes Laurel almost wished he'd be a little less gentlemanly. Of course he should be a gentleman, she told herself, then said aloud, “I can hardly wait. Mama and I ordered material for the curtains. I hope your mother approves.”
“I'm sure she'll love them. She thinks the world of you. In her eyes you can do no wrong.”
Laurel smiled. She and Patricia had a good relationship, but their tastes were different. Laurel wondered how they would find common ground in decisions about decorating and other things.
Laurel didn't want to dampen Robert's mood, but she needed to express her feelings. She met his eyes, laid a hand on his arm, and said, “Robert, it sounds like a fine house, but … well, I was hoping we could have a place of our own.”
An incredulous expression crossed his face. “We can't afford that.”
“It wouldn't have to be a big house. Couldn't we have two small houses instead of one big one?”
“Why would you want two separate houses?”
Laurel's frustration grew. “Robert, I love your mother and your sisters, but if we live with them, I'll feel like we're living in your mother's house, not ours.”
Confusion and hurt touched Robert's eyes. “I thought it was decided.”
Laurel studied tufts of grass pushing through the snow. Without looking at Robert, she said, “It was, but you decided. You didn't ask me.”
Robert took Laurel's hands in his. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overlook your feelings. I just figured it was the only way. Mama's kind and easy to get along with. She's happy to share a house with us.”
“I understand that.” Laurel's hopes sank, but she couldn't give up without trying. “She's older, more experienced. Your mother has ideas of her own. No matter what I do, it will feel like her house.” Laurel gazed across the property. “I thought two small houses would work— one there by the barn and the other one on the northeast corner.”
Robert was quiet for a long while. Finally, shaking his head, he said, “I wish I could do it, but it's not possible. Two houses means two roofs, and two kitchens with plumbing. It'll cost too much. Besides, I already have the go-ahead from the government agent on the one.”
He gazed at the tent he'd brought out to the property. Smoke rose from the chimney. “I don't see why one house is a problem. Our families lived together for a long while, and it worked fine.”
Unable to keep the sharpness out of her voice, Laurel said, “It wasn't your home; it was ours. And it did work well, but we all knew it was temporary and my mother and father were clearly the heads of the house. That's how it's supposed to be.”
Instead of getting angry, Robert apologized again. “I'm sorry, Laurel. I wish you'd told me how you felt. I don't know what else to do.”
Deflated, Laurel said, “It's all right. I know there's no other way. We'll make it work. We'll find a way.”
He hugged Laurel. “Everything will be fine.”
Laurel nodded, but she wasn't so sure.
Will set down his pencil and leaned on the table. “Our debt to the government is getting worse. By the time we bring in our first crop, we'll owe close to nine thousand dollars. I don't know how we're going to pay it back. I wish I could find a job.” He took a drink of coffee. “Some of the other men are working. A few are up at the Copper River Mine.”
Jean pressed a cauliflower seed into black soil, covered it, then moved on to the next space in the planter. She created a small hole with her finger and dropped in seed. Glancing at her husband, she said, “We signed a contract promising you wouldn't work anywhere but on this farm. And we've still got four years before we have to start paying on our loan.”
“I know.”
“Spring tilling and planting will begin soon. You won't have time for anything else.”
“Luke can do some of that.”
Jean gave her husband a skeptical look and planted another seed. “Maybe you can sell one or both of the calves. The cows give us more milk than we need, and we've been able to sell some of the extra cream and butter. We could cut back and sell more.”
“That's just a drop in the bucket; it won't do much against this debt.”
She turned and looked at Will. “Isn't that usually how you tackle life—one drop at a time—one penny at a time—one step at a time?” She dusted off her hands. “If they find out you're working somewhere else, we could lose the farm.”
“They wouldn't do that.”
“You don't know what the government officials will do.” Jean held up the planter tray. “These will be up before you know it, and they'll need to be put in the ground. You'll also have to plant all the other crops, including the grain. And you're going to have to start tilling as soon as the snow melts and the ground dries out.” She walked across the room, draped her arms around Will's shoulders, and hugged him. “Money's tight, but it always has been. We just have to be patient. We're so close.”
Will brushed the remaining dirt from Jean's index finger and kissed it. “I know. You're right. I'm just not used to owing anyone.”
Jean kissed his cheek, then straightened. Looking out the window, she watched Robert and Laurel walk across the field, their hands intertwined. “I'm more worried about those two.”
“Why?”
Continuing to watch them, Jean said, “I can't say for sure, but I don't know how he's going to do everything—build a house and work a farm all at the same time.”
Will stood. Standing behind Jean, he wrapped his arms around her. “I told him I'd help, and Drew and Tom said they'd be out at his place whenever they can. He'll do it. They'll be fine.”
“Yes,” Jean said, still hesitant.
Will turned her around so she faced him. “What else? What's troubling you?”
