Alaskan Summer (8 page)

❧

The next morning the office staff laughed when Laurette described Ruth watering flowers in the rain. Ryan sipped his coffee thoughtfully and did not join in the merriment. He noted that Rette seemed uncomfortable with her coworkers’ jokes. “She really loves that sweet old lady,” he murmured before draining his cup
.

Ryan wondered if he should talk to John to find out if he knew how bad his mother’s mind was getting. Taking care of Ruth might become too much for Rette. He shoved such thoughts to the back of his mind and started assigning tasks for the day. Tyler had been called to supervise the loading of a log ship in Hyder and left Ryan in charge.

The gray day matched Ryan’s mood until it was time to leave the office. The closer he got to Rette’s house, the more his spirits lifted. After hanging his raincoat in the outer room and kicking off his waterproof boots, Ryan entered the cheery kitchen. Ruth looked up from putting plates on the table. Rette turned from stirring a bubbling pot on the stove.

“Welcome,” Laurette said, putting down her spoon. “Almost ready. I just need to toss a salad.”

“It’s nice to have you back,” Ruth added.

Ryan handed Ruth a small bunch of flowers he had purchased at the grocery. “To my favorite girlfriend,” he teased.

Ruth rewarded him with a glowing smile. “What a thoughtful boy. Do we have something to put these in?” she asked Laurette.

Wouldn’t she know what was in her own house?
Ryan wondered. He watched Rette take down a glass vase for her.

Ruth fussed with the flowers as though they were the finest roses. “I do love flowers,” she said with a bright smile.

Enough to stand in the rain to feed them,
he thought. “I’m glad you like them. Can I help?” he asked Rette.

She put a bowl of green salad on the table. “Just find a seat, and I’ll bring over the food.”

Ryan seated Ruth in her favorite spot. Then he watched Rette take garlic bread from the oven before placing a bowl of spaghetti in front of him. “Smells good,” he told her.

The three held hands while Ruth said grace.

The food tasted as good as it smelled. “I’m hungry. Didn’t have time for lunch today.”

“Too often you make do with a carton of milk,” Laurette scolded him.

He grinned as he took another piece of bread. “I like it when you worry about me. Maybe you’ll cook for me more often.”

“I like to have you eat with us,” Ruth said. “Laurette fixes me a nice supper every night, and it’s fun to share.”

“And Ruth baked a cake,” Laurette said, getting up to make a pot of tea. “Would you like more milk?” she asked Ryan.

“Sure, I’ll have some with Ruth’s cake.” He rose and helped her clear the table.

❧

Ryan relaxed in the warm atmosphere. He pushed back his empty dessert plate and patted his stomach. “Best meal I’ve had in weeks.”

“That’s because you live on junk food,” Laurette accused.

“Let’s get the dishes done so you can read to me,” Ruth suggested. She turned to Ryan. “Laurette reads the Bible to me every night. Sometimes we talk about the things she reads.”

“I tried to read the Bible, but I don’t know where to start.” Ryan put a stack of dirty dishes next to the sink.

Ruth beamed. “You’re welcome to join us. We learn something every day.”

Ruth’s childlike manner charmed Ryan. He could understand why Rette was so protective of this sweet old lady.

“How about if Rette and I do the dishes?” At her nod, Ryan offered to escort Ruth to the living room. He settled her in her chair and tucked a lap robe around her legs.

He stopped in the kitchen doorway. Rette bustled about, putting the food away. The overhead light made her cap of curly hair shine, tempting him to run his fingers through the chestnut tangles. She had changed from her work clothes into plain gray sweats. In his eyes, she was beautiful.

She caught him watching her and blushed. “Will you dry the dishes for me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” He picked up the dish towel.

“You’re welcome to stay while I read to Ruth, but please don’t feel obligated.” She looked up at him, her gaze begging for understanding. “It’s become a habit, and she loves it.”

“Don’t you think I could learn something?” He put down the plate he held. “Rette, you’re different. You’re always upbeat, kind, and understanding. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose your cool. Is it your faith that gives you that positive attitude?”

She stood with her hands in the soapy water. “I love Jesus and trust Him to take care of me.” She looked up with a lopsided smile. “I do get upset. Usually it’s with myself for not giving a problem to Him and leaving it there. I try to take it back and solve it myself. Doesn’t work that way,” she explained.

“Isn’t it selfish to ask Him to take on my problems? How can I feel good about doing that?”

“When we have tasks at work, you assign them to someone else. That’s not being selfish. Can’t you think of it as delegating your life problems to Jesus?”

“Seems kind of presumptuous if not hypocritical for me to say to Him, ‘I’ve kind of ignored You for a long time, Lord, but now I want to dump my problems on You, okay?’ Don’t you think?” He picked up another plate to dry.

“Maybe you could just talk to Him.”

“You mean pray?”

“Yes, you could call it that. I just carry on a conversation with Him. Jesus is my friend.”

“I don’t know Him well—you know, intimately. I accepted Him as my Savior when I was a child, but I never took the time to get close. Not real proud of that. I think that makes it harder now. I’ve got no excuses.”

“That’s what forgiveness is all about, Ryan. Get to know Jesus Christ. Learn to trust Him and your life will never be the same.”

“I still don’t know where to begin,” Ryan said quietly. His heart beat in double time.
Am I ready for this?

“I’d like to share my faith with you.”

Her voice held warmth that sent a glow through him.

Laurette dried her hands on the edge of the towel he held. “Let’s get started.” She took the stack of plates he’d dried and put them in the cupboard.

Ruth dozed in her chair but perked up when they joined her. “I have the books right here.” She patted the end table next to her chair.

Laurette held out a small pamphlet. Ryan took it, wondering what it had to do with reading the Bible.

“This is the daily guide we’ve been following. There are lots of different ones. Ruth likes this one; it’s published quarterly. Every day there are readings from the Old Testament, New Testament, and Psalms. Then there is a short devotional based on one of the Scriptures.”

“So you don’t just let the Bible fall open and read that page,” Ryan said respectfully.

“I suppose some people do, but some like to know where they’re going.” She smiled at Ruth. “We read the psalm last because that’s Ruth’s favorite part. We don’t always stop with one.”

“The Psalms are songs, Ryan. You should like that,” Ruth interjected. “I can always find something in Psalms that fits my feelings.”

Ryan wanted to know more but feared embarrassment at showing how little he knew. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Rette opened the devotional book and flipped open the Bible to the readings for the day.

Ryan cringed at how easily she found the chapters. She looked at him with a gentle smile. “Comes from lots of practice.”

Ryan listened to her soft voice as she read the Scriptures.
Never sounded like that when I went to church,
he thought. He watched Ruth. She looked like a cherub, and her wrinkled cheeks were flushed with warmth and joy. He doubted her mind would ever get too dull to enjoy the Bible.

Laurette read for several minutes, then turned to Ryan. “Do you have a Bible?”

He nodded but was not about to tell her he’d won it at church years ago.

“Some people start out reading Psalms every day. I’ve found all sorts of human experiences in those pages. Joy, yearning, serenity, and anger—it’s all there.”

“And that’s how you learn about God?”

“What better way than reading how the people of Psalms wept together, danced together, and celebrated hope together in God. Ruth’s right; they are songs. Let their melody lead you to a new life.”

Ryan noticed that Ruth had nodded off.
I should get out of here so she can go to bed.
“I’ve enjoyed myself,” he told the ladies. “Thank you for dinner.” He rose from his chair.

“I’ll walk you out.” Laurette followed him through the kitchen. “Thank you for being so good to Ruth,” she said as he took down his raincoat.

“I can see why you worry about her. She shouldn’t be alone all day.”

“Someone from her church calls at ten every morning. At least a couple times a week, one of her friends from there comes to visit. I know John is worried. As long as I’m here, she can stay in her home a little longer.”

Her deep sigh tugged at him. “Don’t try to do too much.” He fought the urge to comfort her with a hug. Instead, he bent over to pull on his boots. Standing upright again, he said, “Hey, I checked the schedule and next Wednesday we have an afternoon off. The only ship in port sails at noon. Would you like to go fishing?”

“I’ve never fished in the ocean. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“You gave me tips on how to navigate the Bible tonight. How about if I show you how to navigate a fishing pole next week?”

She rewarded him with a brilliant smile. “It’s a deal.”

EIGHT

Laurette stood in the doorway until Ryan’s Volkswagen disappeared down the driveway. Turning back into the house, she heard Ruth getting ready for bed. She went over to the big window overlooking the water, then sat on the window seat and hugged her knees to her chest. The heavy gray clouds seemed to touch the water over the channel; it wouldn’t stay light until nearly midnight tonight as it usually did during the Alaskan summer.

A pair of eagles drifted in lazy circles on the air currents above the water. Laurette’s spirits seemed to soar with the birds. Could it be true? Ryan seemed genuinely interested in learning more about the Bible. She really liked Ryan, but she could never be serious about a man who did not believe in Jesus. While he said he’d accepted Jesus as a child, he didn’t live his life like a believer with a strong faith—he’d admitted as much this evening. Would he someday choose to turn back to God?

She remembered how gentle and kind he had been toward Ruth.
He isn’t the same grouch who met my plane a few weeks ago. Maybe I misjudged him.
Suddenly she recalled how disappointed Ryan had seemed that day when Jenny hadn’t returned to Sitka. Later, when Laurette e-mailed Jenny to see how her dad was doing, her friend had confirmed that she and Ryan had only dated casually, that nothing serious had developed. Now Laurette wondered if his disappointment was subconsciously more about his mother not returning than about Jenny.

Where can this friendship go?
her conscience nagged.
Your job only lasts until fall. Then what are you going to do?

She shivered at the thought. Would she go back to Washington to look for a job? That’s what her folks would expect her to do. Sighing deeply, Laurette stood up.
I’ll have to pray for guidance. And for Ryan.
Whatever happened between them, it was more important what happened between Ryan and the Lord.

The sliver of light shining under Ruth’s bedroom door had gone out, so Laurette entered her room and prepared for bed. Thoughts of Ryan and the future kept her tossing for hours before she fell into a deep sleep.

❧

Wednesday dawned bright and sunny. “Great day to go fishing,” Tyler commented when he heard about Ryan and Laurette’s plans. “You can use the company truck to launch your boat,” he told Ryan. “I’m taking the van this afternoon.”

Laurette went home to change into jeans and a sweatshirt. She made sure Ruth was settled. Diane had promised to call that evening and remind Ruth to eat the supper Laurette had left for her when she’d made the sandwiches for their lunch. Ryan was bringing the soft drinks and potato chips.

Carrying their lunch and her jacket, she walked from her truck to the launch site near the dock where the tenders landed. Ryan had his boat lined up at the top of the ramp and was ready to back down.

“Can I help?” she asked.

“When the boat floats off the trailer, will you grab the bow rope and hold on?”

Laurette nodded and walked down to where she could reach the rope tied to the bow of the white wooden craft. “You have a nice boat,” she commented.

“It was my dad’s. It’s old, but it floats.”

She smiled. “That’s good.” Laurette watched as he backed the boat and trailer into the water.
Hope I don’t get seasick,
she worried to herself as she kept a firm grip on the rope. When the boat floated free, she pulled it toward the dock and held on to the side.