As Time Goes By (The Californians 2)

by Lori Wick

  "I always tell people," Pastor had said, "that if they really meant what they prayed, then they are now a child of God, but I don't think I need to say that to you, Cleve. There's something in your eyes that tells me this is genu ine."

  "I don't feel much different," the younger man had confided.

  "Some people don't, but I assure you it's real. The Bible says to believe, and you do. Since the Bible is the Word of God, then that's all the assurance we need."

  Bobbie had been watching out the window for Cleve almost from the time she had arrived at the Taylors'. She had declined dinner, telling her hostess that she would eat with Cleve when he came. So when he finally pulled into the yard Bobbie was there to meet him.

  "Are you all right?" was hr first question after Cleve's feet hit the ground.

  "I'm fine, Robbie," Cleve told her calmly. "I'm better than I've ever been in my life."

  Bobbie looked at him for a moment. "You're sure now, aren't you?"

  "Yes, I'm sure," he said with quiet conviction, "quite

  sure.'"

  The couple embraced, and when Bobbie stepped back she saw tears in Cleve's eyes. It had been such a painful time, one of uncertainty and hard decisions. But she would do it all over again, she told herself, if only to see Cleve Ramsey's face when he said, "Yes, I'm sure, quite

  sure."

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  thirty-two

  Sylvia Weber was in a state of mourning. N one in the family had died, but her grief was just as great as if someone had.

  After Sylvia had left Jeff at the Bradfords" those weeks ago, she had gone back to her sister's house, repeatedly telling herself she was going to control her temper for good this time. It was evident that for years all her thoughts had been of herself. What was further evident was that it had to stop.

  As Sylvia rode home that day, her prayers were altered for the first time. Instead of mindlessly naming every thing she wanted to, she asked God to help her change. She was certain that everything was going to be com pletely under control from then on, but Sandra met her at the door with a letter.

  "I've heard from Aunt Velvet. Her letter says you're welcome to stay with her."

  "Aunt Velvet?" Sylvia had asked in genuine confu sion.

  "That's right. I wrote to her and asked if you could

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  come and see her for a few months. It's either that or back home to Morn and Dad. Carl and I need a break."

  Sylvia's lovely ideals about her temper evaporated, and she exploded at her sister. Even though Sandra looked guilty, she remained steadfast.

  Sylvia had cried, even pleaded, but her older sister said it was time. Sylvia had left, but not in good humor. In fact she had vowed never to speak to her sister again, and .Carl and Sandra were met with a stony silence right up to the time Sylvia boarded the stage.

  Sandra, terribly guilt-ridden, had written to her the very day she left and every few days in the coming weeks. Sylvia, however, didn't reply. Worried that some thing had happened to her spoiled sister, Sandra finally received a letter from Sylvia almost a month after her departure.

  She had said little, but Sandra began to sense a change in her. What Sandra didn't know was that Sylvia had met an older version of herself: Aunt Velvet. It was enough to send Sylvia into a near state of shock.

  Sylvia had never met her Aunt Velvet, and never really believed all the stories she had heard about her. But they were all too true. The older woman had never married, although she must have been a beauty in her day, and Sylvia quickly found out why: There was no living with her. Not a minute passed when she didn't insist on having something her own way.

  If it wasn't a fit about Sylvia not taking the teacup with the chip in it, it was the silent treatment because her niece had dared to disagree with her over some trivial matter.

  Aunt Velvet had little money, but she tried to live like a queen. She owed people all over town, and Sylvia was mortified when the shopkeepers in town would look at

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  her lovely clothes and pull out an invoice from behind the counter. "Can you pay your aunt's bill?"

  Sylvia heard the words so many times that she dreamt about them. In short, her aunt was held in contempt by the community, and to be associated with her was far and away the most humiliating thing Sylvia had ever experi enced.

  That Sylvia was headed in the same direction occurred to her one morning before her aunt arose. Standing in the living room of Velvet's ramshackle house, Sylvia looked at the possessions of a woman who never cared about anyone but herself.

  On every wall there was a mirror, sometimes two. Keepsakes from days gone by lined the shelves, little mementos that Aunt Velvet must have received from the men who had courted and tried to woo her.

  Tears streamed down Sylvia's face when she thought of her bedroom at Sandra's home. On the dresser was a dried-up flower that Jeff had given her months ago, and beside it was a torn page that had fallen from his Bible one day in church. Sylvia had taken it without telling him for a keepsake, and now felt ashamed.

  That day Sylvia wrote and asked Sandra if she could come back. Sandra had not immediately acquiesced, and Sylvia had been miserable. Sylvia asked in every letter to Sandra when she could return. Finally a letter arrived telling Sylvia she would be welcome. She had packed her things and left that very day.

  Sylvia still had Sandra's letter that told of Jeff's visit, but she didn't hold out any hope for the future. Her return to Santa Rosa was not to see Jeff, although she would love to talk with him. No, her return to Santa Rosa was to put some space between her and Aunt Velvet so she could mourn in privatemmourn for the 20-plus years

  spent living for herself and accomplishing nothing for God and in reality nothing for herself.

  Sylvia stayed away from church the first Sunday back, feeling that she still needed some time to think. On the Sunday she did attend, it caused her almost a physical pain to see Jeff talking so easily with Bobbie Bradford, but it didn't make her angry.

  Several people came right out and asked Sylvia if she had been ill, making her uncomfortably aware of how thin she had become. Her pride came to the fore over this matter, and she didn't stay after church because she didn't want Jeff to see her.

  Surprisingly enough, though, she was not at all upset when Jeff came to the house that night. In fact, she was so glad to see him she had to swallow hard against the

  lump in her throat.

  "Hello, Jeff."

  "Hello, yourself. Welcome back."

  "Thanks."

  Sylvia motioned him to a seat in the living room and sat across from him.

  "I was all ready to ask how you were doing, but I think I can see you're okay." The words were said kindly, and Sylvia realized Jeff was looking at her eyes, and not the way her dress hung on her frame.

  "I am doing okay. How about yourself?"

  "I'm fine. How was your visit with your aunt?"

  'qnteresting," Sylvia said, and then smiled. Jeff smiled back and wondered at the emotional change in her.

  To look at her one would think she had been quite ill, but her eyes belied the frail look of her body. Those big sapphire-blue orbs looked out with a guileless serenity that Jeff had never seen there before.

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  They talked for over an hour, and as Jeff was ready to

  leave, something compelled him to ask Sylvia out. "Maybe we could go to supper sometime."

  "Oh, I'd like that, Jeff," Sylvia answered, her eyes shining with pleasure.

  "Great! How's Thursday night?"

  "Thursday is fine."

  "Oka3 I'll stop by about 6:30. See you then." "Good night, Jeff." Sylvia stood at the front door and watched until he was out of sight. She begged God to help her keep her heart in check. But Jeff Taylor was a wonderful man and Sylvia had always been a little bit in love with him. She wasn't sure it was possible to see him socially and not fall for him all over agai
n.

  Sylvia recognized the fact that there weren't many men who would still be friendly with her after the way she had acted. In fact, she meant to apologize about that. Thursday night, she told herself, as she went into the kitchen to tell Sandra she had a date.

  thirty-three

  The week flew by and Cleve could hardly believe he was leaving town the next day. He had a wonderful time with Bobbie, and praised God for her spiritual influence and the opportunity to come and see her.

  Cleve had gone every day to the shipping office to eat lunch with Bobbie and the Taylor sons, and every day he wondered the same thing: How long would it be before Jeff and Bobbie knew they were in love?

  Strangely enough, he was not jealous, but to him the way they cared for each other would have been obvious to a blind man: their specific smiles for each other with which no one else was gifted: Private jokes, although shared with everyone, nevertheless singled them out as. something special.

  Their last lunch together was at the hotel on Thursday, before Cleve would be taking the morning stage home. Bobbie announced she would treat.

  "Have you fallen into a large sum of money?" Jeff wanted to know.

  "It's impolite," Bobbie informed him with her nose in the air, "to ask a lady about her age, weight, or bank

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  account." Bobbie said this with the snootiest voice she could muster.

  "Is that right?"

  "Yes, that's right, and anyone who's anyone would certainly know that."

  "Well, I know your age and I would guess that your weight is somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred pounds soaking wet, but your bank account, now that's a mystery." Jeff wagged his finger under her nose and tried to look stem.

  "Get that finger any closer and I'll bite it," she promised him.

  Cleve could only shake his head. They played around like sweethearts. Even the fact that Jeff had a date with another woman that night couldn't change Cleve's mind. Too many times he had seen Jeff drop his arm protectively around Bobbie's shoulders, and even kiss her cheek or forehead. Brothers and sisters wouldn't have acted this way.

  Cleve knew that Bobbie considered Jeff a friend, and vice versa, but Cleve believed these two were on the threshold of something far more intimate. He said as much to Mrs. Taylor the night before he left town.

  "Yes, Cleve, I have noticed that they have a very close relationship. Jeff is going camping with Jake and the kids the weekend after this, and something tells me things might come to a boil," Maryanne shrugged noncommittally. "But then I've been wrong before."

  "Yeah," he agreed with a smile.

  Every evening Bobbie and Cleve had spent time in the Word. Bible lessons that had been no more than stories to Cleve now had personal application. The look of wonder, and often conviction, that Bobbie saw on his face was at once joyful and sobering.

  "I'll be praying for you, Cleveland."

  'nd I'll be praying for you." They hugged each other, and Cleve told her how excited he was to go home and

  tell Jasper and Joanne of his salvation.

  "Give them my love."

  Jeff and Gil came from the shipping office just as the stage arrived, and all the men shook hands. Jeff's arm dropped around Bobbie's shoulders in a familiar fashion and that was the last sight Cleve had of Bobbie as the stage pulled out of town.

  "How long, Lord?" Cleve said inside the empty stage. "How long before they discover their true feelings for each other?"

  "Honestly, Cleve, this has been some kind of a mircle--I mean your coming here and talking with Pastor Keller."

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  thirty-four

  Things did not "come to a boil," as Maryanne had predicted, but Jeff did find out in a hurry that what he had always suspected was true: Going camping with the Bradfords was going to be fun!

  Marcail shared his feelings and was in the shipping office every day to question Bobbie.

  "Bobbie, did you get my bedroll all set?"

  "I sure did. We're going to sleep in the back of the

  wagon and we'll share the blankets."

  "How about Jeff's?"

  "Good question, how about Jeff's?" Jeff asked as he joined the ladies at the desk. He was equally as excited and did nothing to hide it.

  "We've got you all set too," Bobbie told him with an indulgent smile that might not have been as well-received if he hadn't been so enthusiastic about this outdoor excursion.

  "Now let me get this straight," Jeff questioned her for at least the tenth time. "We leave Friday at about 5:00 and we have an hour, maybe an hour-and-a-half, before we reach the place where we camp."

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  "Right." Bobbie couldn't hide her smile. He was so much fun to watch. Of course she remembered acting the same way when her father had first taken her and Troy. They must have driven him nuts with their nonstop questions and chatter. Jeff and Marcail were almost as bad.

  Everyone planned to meet at the Bradfords', with the exception of Sean, who usually worked until 6:00 at the livery. Joey Parker came with Kaitlin and Rigg to see Marcail off, and Bobbie thought he was the sweetest little boy she had ever encountered. But her attention didn't linger on Joey for very long as she watched Kate, thinking that she looked tired and uncomfortable.

  Bobbie's eyes misted just a bit when Rigg helped her down from the wagon with extreme care, but then she felt like giggling at the way Kate waddled, her stomach going before her like the prow of a ship. Kate stopped in front of Bobbie and the younger woman couldn't hide her grin.

  "I walk like a duck, don't I?"

  Bobbie's hand covered her mouth, but her eyes told Kate she was about to laugh. "I'm sorry, Kaitlin."

  Kate smiled. "Don't apologize. You can't do anything that Rigg hasn't done already, including quack like a

  duck when he walks behind me."

  "He really does that?"

  "Well, he did. But one day I burst into tears and he stopped." Kate gave a mighty sigh. 'k man thinks he knows the woman he's married, but then she gets pregnant and cries for no reason, or craves fried chicken at three in the morning. And the heatDit's enough to drive me crazy!"

  "This isn't a very hot summer."

  "It is if you're pregnant," Kate assured her.

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  Bobbie nodded, remembering that Alice had said something about that as well.

  "We're all set," Jake called from his place beside the wagon.

  Bobbie watched Marcail hug her sister. "You listen and obey Marc," Kate told her. "Stay close to the others so they don't lose you."

  "I will." Marcail was squirming with excitement, mak ing Kate laugh. Rigg snatched her close for an instant when it looked like she had forgotten to hug him, and they all watched as she scrambled into the back of the wagon.

  Jeff was talking with Maryanne as Bobbie climbed

  aboard, and she heard part of their conversation.

  "I just assumed that the whole family went."

  "I've never cared for camping and I'm also a person who loves solitude, so I don't mind having the house to myself for an entire weekend."

  She grinned at Jeff before moving to kiss her son and daughter goodbye, and then she went to her husband. Jake wrapped her in his arms and they kissed, unembar rassed, for a long time. He whispered something in Maryanne's ear that made her smile and then took his seat and picked up the reins.

  They were waved out of the yard with smiles and laughter, and when Bobbie turned back to settle in for the ride, she found both Jeff and Marcail staring at her

  from their places nearby in the back of the wagon. "What?" Bobbie asked with a raised brow. "Nothing." Jeff answered as they both kept smiling. Bobbie shook her head and thanked the Lord for these good friends. She also prayed that this weekend would be all that they hoped it would be.

  One hour and twenty minutes later Jake brought the wagon to a stop under a huge oak tree. The creek was in plain view some 30 feet awa
y, and the sound it made as it tripped lightly over the rock-filled bed was immediately comforting to Bobbie.

  Jake and Troy went to work setting up camp, and Jeff also pitched in, doing with quiet efficiency -whatever he was instructed. Bobbie and Marcail had disappeared somewhere and Jeff figured they were collecting fire wood.

  Camp was swiftly put into shape, with bedrolls, fishing tackle, provisions box, and rain ponchos all unloaded. They were stacked neatly under the wagon or next to the huge logs that were laid out in a triangle around the spot where the fire would be built.

  It was during the building of the fire that Jeff became confused. Troy appeared at his side with an armful of logs.

  "Where are Bobbie and Marc?"

  "Oh, they probably went to change," Troy told him nonchalantly, and even though Jeff was unsure what he meant, he didn't need to ask because the girls mate rialized atthat moment, both wearing pants.

  Troy headed back into the surrounding woods and Jeff was left staring at the girls as they put their other clothing under the wagon seat. Jake's voice came low to his ears from where he had come close with his own armload of wood.

  "I've been getting jeans for Bob to wear camping since she was a little gift," Jake began, having seen the look on the younger man's face. "She's always very discreet about it and Bobbie asked Kaitlin's permission before she found some for Marcail. But, Jeff," Jake stopped until he

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  was sure he had his attention, "if you're offended, Bobie can go and change right now."

  Jeff's gaze swung once again to the girls. Bobbie's pants were very baggy, and in fact he could only see them from the knees down because of the oversized man's shirt she was wearing. Marcail's shirt stopped just below her hips, and she would have looked like a boy standing there if it weren't for the fat black braid that hung down her back.

  "No, she doesn't need to change, although I appreciate your giving me a moment to get used to the idea."