Dawn's Prelude (14 page)

The doctors never knew exactly what the problem was, but she wasted away before my very eyes. Within a month of getting sick, she was gone.”

“I’m sorry. It sounds as if you loved her very much.”

Kjell nodded. “I did. She was a good woman with a sweet spirit. Much like you.”

Lydia turned away from him. “My spirit is not so sweet. I have a great deal of bitterness inside me. I’m not enough of a liar to deny that.”

Kjell came to where she stood and turned her to face him. “You’ve been through a great deal. I don’t know much about it, but I can see it in your eyes. If you ever want to talk to me about it, I’ll listen.”

The soft glow from the house windows shed just enough light on Lydia’s face for him to see her surprise. “I don’t suppose I’m used to a man even caring about such things, much less offering to listen to me.”

He reached up to gently touch her face. He felt a moment of victory when she didn’t pull away. “I care.”

Lydia held his gaze for a moment and said nothing. It almost seemed that she was assessing him, to somehow prove to herself he spoke the truth. She drew her lower lip in and bit down on it before backing away.

“I suppose we should get back,” she said. “Zerelda will worry about me.”

Kjell nodded. He wished she would remain with him on the porch but didn’t try to change her mind. Instead, he did the only thing he could to keep her in his company a bit longer. “Will you give me the next dance?”

She paused at the door and nodded. “I will.”

Chapter 11

G
erald Lytle looked at the substantial amount of cash offered him and drew a deep breath. Marston Gray knew the man needed the money. Needed it desperately to offset gambling debts he’d incurred just the week before.

“You don’t plan any harm to come to her?” Lytle asked, clearly considering what Marston wanted.

“Of course not, you fool. I’m a gentleman, not a killer. I merely wish to thank her for her generosity to my family and apologize for the way she was treated. I tried approaching Robinson, but he seems to think we are all associated with our father’s actions against Lydia.”

“She was terribly mistreated,” Gerald agreed.

Marston said nothing but nodded as if in agreement. “Rest assured, I only desire to communicate my appreciation and to know that she is truly all right. She might not feel that correspondence from me is necessary, but for my own peace of mind, it is.”

“Perhaps you could pen the letter and I could mail it for you,”

Gerald suggested. “That way you could accomplish your desires, and I wouldn’t betray any confidences.”

Marston shook his head. “No. I think it would be best to do it just as I’ve described. I want access to the files—to her correspondence with Mr. Robinson. I want assurance that she’s not being cheated in any way.”

The man frowned. “But Mr. Robinson’s reputation is irrefutable.”

“Men are still fallible—even Mr. Robinson.” Marston held the money higher. “So, do we have a deal or not?” He started to put the money back in his pocket, but Lytle reached out to stop him.

“Very well. I’ll leave the back door to the office open tonight. If you want to review the correspondence, I’ll see to it that it’s placed in the center of Mr. Robinson’s desk. Write down the information if you need to, but remove nothing.” He took the money and stared at it for a moment. “Nothing is to be otherwise disturbed.”

Marston nodded and drew out a cigar. “I’ll make sure my man understands.”

“What do you mean? Won’t you be the one to review the materials?”

A thin smile edged Marston’s lips. He clipped the end of the cigar and shook his head. “That would hardly be prudent. Should I be found by some overly observant policeman, it would be hard to explain my presence. However, if my man is caught, he can plead guilty to petty thievery, and no one will be the wiser.”

Lytle swallowed hard. “I see.”

The man slipped away as Marston lit his cigar. He was satisfied with the turn of events; now he would simply have to get the right man for the job.

Sitka’s size made it impossible to keep secrets. Kjell had learned this early on, and today proved to be no exception. Twice now he’d heard talk that the Sidorov brothers had never left the area. He wondered if this could possibly be true, but he felt he had no time to devote to investigation. He had settled his differences with his customers over the summer, and everything had returned to normal. If the Sidorovs were still in the area, Kjell wasn’t exactly sure what he would do. To charge them now seemed futile, and since they were no longer a threat to him or his business, Kjell couldn’t see holding a grudge.

“What chores are you seeing to on this dismal day?”

Kjell looked up to find Zerelda Rockford standing directly in front of him. He hadn’t been watching where he was going and nearly walked right into her. “Sorry, Zee. I didn’t mean to be so caught up in my own thoughts. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. And you?”

This question caused Kjell to think of yet another rumor he’d heard. He wanted to know the truth of the matter and had never known Zee to be uncomfortable with his questions. “I wonder if we can talk?” he asked.

“I have time. Where would you like to go?” Zerelda shifted a basket of goods from one arm to the other. “I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.”

“Sounds good. I’ll buy.” Kjell took her basket and pointed the way to the Russian Teahouse.

The small yellow house held a charm all its own. Several tables were set up in what must have once been the main living area. Kjell knew the Putshukoff family who owned the place. They kept the business on the ground floor and lived upstairs.

Mrs. Putshukoff greeted them with her usual enthusiasm. “Kjell, Zerelda, it’s good to see you. Come and sit. I have fresh
rasstegai
.”

Kjell grinned and gave his stomach a rub. “With minced meat?”

“Of course,” the stocky woman replied with a beaming smile.

Once they were seated and served some of the minced pies to go along with their coffee, Kjell cleared his throat. “I hope this doesn’t seem out of place, Zee. I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but . . . well, you know me.”

She nodded. “I do, and I’ve never known you to walk around a subject as wide as you’re taking this one.”

He chuckled. “Well, it has to do with Lydia.”

Her eyes fairly danced with amusement. “Now, why am I not surprised? What is it you want to know?”

“I’ve heard rumors,” he began. “Being I don’t much care for such things, I figured to speak directly with someone who would know the truth.”

Zerelda sipped her coffee, making no attempt to comment or acknowledge his statement. Kjell shifted nervously and toyed with the handle of his mug. “Fact of the matter is, I care about you two and feel that I need to keep an eye out for you.”

This made Zerelda smile. “Goodness, man, just get to the heart of your question.”

Kjell nodded and leaned forward. “I’ve heard talk that Lydia is . . . that she’s . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“With child?” Zee whispered.

He sighed and felt a weight taken off his shoulders. “Yes.”

“It’s true. Lydia is carrying her dead husband’s child. Should be born around Christmas.”

Kjell frowned. “Is she . . . well?”

“Certainly. I’ve seen to that. She’s as healthy as you or me. She keeps to herself now more than ever, but it doesn’t stop the bevy of fellows who come to call. I’ve chased off more potential suitors for the both of us than I can count.”

“Those men ought to respect your situation and leave you be.”

Zee laughed and lifted the pastry to her lips. “Maybe you ought to be stakin’ your claim before she’s swept up by someone else.”

He felt his face grow hot at this comment, and Kjell wondered how to respond. He did want to “stake his claim,” as Zee put it, but how to go about it was an entirely different matter.

“Tell me about her life, Zee.”

“I should let her be the one to do the telling,” the woman said, looking past Kjell out the window.

He glanced over his shoulder but could see nothing that should draw her attention. It had started raining again, so Lincoln Street was fairly deserted.

“I suppose it can’t hurt to give you a bit of insight,” Zee finally said, leaning back in her chair. “Lydia had an arranged marriage to a cruel man at a very young age. I believe the agreement was struck when she was just fifteen. I thought it an awful arrangement with him being so much older than Lydia, but my brother thought my objections nonsense. He pointed out that many women were married before they reached twenty, and often to older widowers. Still, I thought it most objectionable.

“Lydia was married when she was sixteen and after that, knew nothing but heartache and misery. Her husband was only interested in money and power, as I heard it from Lydia. He had four children—the two boys were grown by the time Lydia married into the family—and they treated her just as poorly as he did. There were two younger girls: a twelve-year-old and the youngest, who was only four at the time.”

“No wonder Lydia is so bitter,” Kjell said thoughtfully.

“You don’t know the half of it, and I won’t be the one to tell it.

Suffice it to say, most of Lydia’s adult life has been a living hell.

She holds God responsible, although she says she wants nothing to do with Him.” Zee shook her head sadly. “The truth is, she’d love to have a real understanding of Him—to feel close and safe, but she’s been disappointed so many times in the past, she isn’t willing to risk it.”

“So she probably wouldn’t want to risk marriage again, either?”

He looked to Zee to see if she was shocked by the comment. She wasn’t.

“I think the right man could show her that things could be different,” Zee answered. “I’d like to believe you are that man, Kjell.

You have infinite patience, and you’re kind. Your gentle nature and generosity of spirit are exactly what she needs. However, you belong to the Lord, and Lydia does not. You can’t be unequally yoked with her. She needs to overcome her separation from God before she can be with you. Otherwise, it will only prove misery for both of you.”

Kjell hadn’t thought about spiritual matters where Lydia was concerned. “But she’s going to have a baby. She needs a husband.

The baby needs a father.”

“Those things would be nice,” Zee replied, “but unless she learns to leave the past behind her, Lydia could do you and herself more harm than good. Only God can help her get over her past.”

He considered this for a moment. “But maybe I could help her to see the truth. Maybe that’s why I’ve come to care about her. The Lord might well have put me in this frame of mind for just such a purpose.”

Zee reached out and patted his hand. “Kjell, anything is possible. I won’t be one to limit the Lord. Just be careful. I can see now you’ve already lost your heart—don’t lose your values, as well.”

“She’s pregnant!” Mitchell declared in disbelief. “A woman of such loose moral character has no right to—”

“Oh, do be quiet,” Marston said, shaking his head. “Don’t you see that the child is due in December? That means she’s carrying our father’s baby.”

Mitchell sat down rather hard, as if the shock were too much to bear. “Why didn’t she say something before she left?”

“Most likely she didn’t know or didn’t want us to know.” Mar-ston studied the notes his man had furnished. “She wanted to depart for Sitka to be with her aunt and probably paid it no mind.” Of course, there was the possibility she
had
known that she was pregnant—and wanted to leave before anyone else found out. But why? What else was she hiding?

“Will you go to Alaska and bring her back?”

“Yes.” Marston’s attitude was matter-of-fact.

Mitchell sat up in the chair. “She won’t want to return, will she?”

“Probably not,” Marston said, taking a seat behind his desk. “But she will come.”

“I suppose this also explains her desire to keep the business.”

“Why do you say that?”

Mitchell shrugged. “She wants it for the child. After all, he or she will be a Gray heir.”

“I hadn’t considered that, but you may be right.” Marston leaned back in the chair and pressed his fingertips together. “But that can also work to our advantage. We can point out to her that this child will need family to support him or her with education and training.”