Dawn's Prelude (16 page)

Zerelda had convinced her that Kjell deserved to be accused or merited on his own actions rather than those of Floyd, but Lydia still found it difficult to put aside the mistrust she felt for any man.

“Are you hungry, Kjell?” Zerelda asked as she greeted him. “We could heat up some food.”

Kjell shrugged out of his coat and shook his head. “I ate already, but thanks.”

“I can’t tell you how pleased I was to see that you’d brought your guitar. I told Lydia I would love to hear the two of you play together.”

Kjell looked past Zerelda to where Lydia was watching him. He smiled. “That’s up to Lydia. She’s no doubt the better musician, and my poor attempts would be disruptive.”

“You’ve played for us on many occasions,” Lydia said, turning back to measure coffee into the pot. “You are quite accomplished, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

Laughing, Kjell picked up his guitar as Zerelda went to hang up his coat. He placed the guitar near the fireplace, then paused to warm his hands. “The air has a bite to it tonight.”

“Well, it is October,” Zerelda commented. “I was just telling Lydia that her extra wool blankets were going to come in handy this winter. I think it’s going to be unusually cold.”

“Could be. Say, I heard today that Mr. Saberhagen has arranged for the property to be sold.”

Zerelda nodded. “It’s true. He has decided against returning to Sitka. He’s offered to let us stay here until the place is sold, however, so I’m happy about that. Given that winter is soon to be upon us, I don’t anticipate much interest in the property until spring.”

“I don’t want to sound negative here,” Kjell said, coming to join the women in the kitchen, “but it could be the army might want the property. Houses are at a premium, and there are two on this land, as well as storage buildings.”

“Yes, but we’re far enough away from town that it would be a chore to live out here.”

“Oh, Zee, nothing is that far away from town. Not here.” He gave her a grin and leaned back against the wall. “You should also know that the census will take place on the twenty-fourth of this month. There will be three men assisting Lieutenant Lyle.”

“Just three?” Zerelda asked. “Seems they would need more.”

“Well, they don’t plan to count the Tlingit at the Ranche.”

“And why not?”

Lydia saw Kjell shake his head. “The government doesn’t deem them necessary to count. They don’t matter.”

Remembering her time in the Ranche with Zerelda, Lydia couldn’t help but speak up. “They are a burden to the government— at least that’s how others see it. You have lived among these people for a long time, but as an outsider newly arrived, I can see perhaps what they feel.”

Zerelda and Kjell looked at her oddly, and Lydia felt compelled to continue. “It is my belief that the officials consider them uneducated and incapable of being a benefit to the country or any part of society. They don’t speak English well, they have few job skills that interest the whites, and they seem overly susceptible to disease and problems with alcohol.”

“It’s sad that an entire people could be judged so worthless.

They have, after all, done just fine without our interference,” Kjell replied.

Lydia thought he sounded annoyed with her and so she spoke again. “I do not believe that the attitude is a good one. It is not my heart. I agree with Zerelda that it is cruel to force them to be locked up like common criminals. I would much rather see them released to live free—wherever they saw fit to live.”

“Unfortunately,” Zerelda interrupted, “I believe that enough time has passed that we have crippled them. We have made them dependent on the white culture in some ways, while in others, we have taken away their customs and traditions.”

“It’s only going to get worse,” Kjell said. “When the government encourages a larger population here in Alaska, the Tlingit will be pushed farther out. There will be new rules and regulations and maybe even a new location for them to live. It will all depend on whether this area is found to be valuable to the whites.”

“Well,” Zerelda sighed, “enough of this sadness. We can’t change things tonight.” She smiled. “Let’s have some music, Kjell.

While Lydia pours the coffee, why don’t you show me what you can do with that guitar.”

Kjell nodded and offered his arm rather formally to Zerelda. She laughed and accepted his elbow, letting him escort her to the chairs by the fireplace. Kjell took up the instrument and tuned it before he began picking out a melodious strain. Lydia liked it when he played for them. The music comforted her, and she felt herself relax. She couldn’t imagine Floyd or any of his sons spending time in such respite. Floyd had found music a waste of time and had threatened to take Lydia’s violin on more occasions than she could count. Several times, he had made good on his threats, leaving her heartbroken and inconsolable.

She stiffened.
Things are different now,
she reminded herself.
Floyd can’t hurt me anymore.
She touched her hand to where the baby grew. Her husband had caused the death of their other children, but not this one. Had God truly interceded, as Zerelda suggested? Could Lydia dare to believe that God cared about her and the baby? And if she did accept this, then what did that say about the past and the other children she had lost? She was so confused.

Glancing up, Lydia found Kjell watching her, even as he played. Unable to turn away from him, Lydia wondered what kind of husband Kjell would make.

He was definitely cut from a different cloth. Lydia had never seen him lose his patience, and even when he shared about problems at the mill, he remained calm and considerate. Floyd would have ranted and raved about any difficulty. Many had been the time that he, Marston, and Mitchell had argued vehemently about what was to be done regarding a problem at the factory.

Kjell continued to watch her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Lydia looked away.

“So will you join us, Liddie?” Zerelda asked. “Maybe play along?”

Lydia felt the baby move as if to encourage her response. “I will try.” She went to the violin case and opened it slowly. She very much enjoyed Kjell’s abilities and hated to let go of the moment too soon. Taking the violin and bow in hand, she made her preparations, all the while waiting for him to conclude. When he did, she couldn’t help but comment, “That was beautiful. I’ve never heard that tune before. What is it called?”

Kjell shrugged. “It’s just something I made up. I haven’t named it, but you can if you want.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You gave it life— you should name it.”

“I’ll think on it,” he told her with a wink. “Now what shall we play together?”

Lydia named a couple of possibilities and Kjell smiled. “Why don’t you start in, and I’ll follow as best I can.”

She lifted the violin and drew the bow. Music filled the air of the small cabin. Lydia focused on the notes of a song she hadn’t played in years. The gentle refrain swelled to a crescendo, then eased back again. Kjell joined in, gently filling in the background as he accompanied her. She hesitated a moment in her nervousness, then quickly recovered as Kjell continued. It wasn’t long before Lydia completely lost herself in the moment. How wonderful it was to make music with someone. How incredible it was to feel that, for even a few moments of time, her soul had touched that of another human being.

When the final notes sounded, Zerelda clapped heartily. “I’ve never heard anything more beautiful. You two play . . . well, it’s as if you’ve always played together. I am completely amazed.”

“I have to say, I’m just as taken,” Kjell said, looking at Lydia.

His gaze seemed to burn through her, and Lydia flushed but found she couldn’t look away. And it was in that moment that Lydia knew she was losing her heart to Kjell. How strange it felt . . . almost like slipping on the ice. There was a sense of exhilaration at free falling, but in the back of her mind, Lydia knew the impact would hurt.

“I’m afraid I need to rest,” Lydia declared, quickly putting the violin away.

“Are you all right?” Kjell asked, coming to her side.

“Yes. I’m fine. I just want to rest.” She hurried from the room without giving him another look—frightened that if she stayed, she might lose control and tell him how she felt.

Zerelda came to Lydia nearly an hour later and found her sitting up in bed, a book in her hand. She thought her niece looked confused and offered to listen.

“Sometimes it helps to talk a thing through.”

Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know where I’d even begin.”

“Maybe start by telling me what caused you to flee our company this evening,” Zerelda suggested. She sat down on the side of the bed and smiled. “Or you could start with Kjell showing up.”

“I don’t know what to think of him,” Lydia admitted. She looked at Zerelda. “Why did you never marry?”

Zerelda hadn’t anticipated this change of topic, but if it helped Lydia to relate her concerns, it was just as good a place to start as any other.

“I was in love once. It was before the War Between the States. He was a wonderful young man—a minister, in fact. I thought . . . well, I thought the entire world turned around him.” She smiled sadly. “I was twenty-three, and he was twenty-nine.”

“What happened?”

“He didn’t return my love.” Pain washed over her anew.

“How did you know?”

The interest evident in Lydia’s tone encouraged Zerelda to bear the sorrow once again. “I asked him. Actually, I told him of my feelings, and while he was kind, he told me he couldn’t return my love. He left the area shortly after that. The gold rush in California had become well known, and he felt God was calling him west.”

“But didn’t he say why he couldn’t love you?”

Zerelda shook her head. There had never been any explanation beyond his gentle apology. He had almost seemed embarrassed that he had somehow allowed it to happen—as if he could have stopped Zerelda from losing her heart in the first place.

Lydia’s voice softened. “Did you ever hear from him again?”

“No. I heard about him from one of his relatives. He left the ministry and was taken with gold fever. He never made it rich, but that’s all I ever knew of him.”

“Were you angry at God?”

She smiled at Lydia. It was the second time Lydia had asked a similar question. “No. How could I blame God for the fact that the man didn’t feel the same way I did?”

Her niece seemed to consider this for a moment. “Well, my mother always said that God knows everything and has all power.

Since you loved God even then, why couldn’t He have returned that love through this man?”

“Sort of a situation where, because I did something for God, He should do something for me?” Zerelda asked.

Lydia nodded. “Exactly. You had shown your loyalty and love to God, so why couldn’t He reward you with a love of your own?”

“I suppose He could have done anything He wanted,” Zerelda replied. “But that really isn’t how it works with Him. He has already given us the best and most precious love He could. He sent His Son to die an awful death for our sins. How could I hold up my puny attempts at love and faithfulness and demand He bless me for my efforts?”

“But if He is the loving God you and Mother always declared Him to be, why not expect that?”

“Let me say this,” Zerelda began. “I do expect good things from God. I believe He wants to bless me and does all of the time. However, I also trust that there was a good reason for not marrying my young man. I can honestly say I wouldn’t have done well traipsing around the gold fields. I would never have been happy, especially to see him give up the ministry. Added to that, I never would have become a nurse—that was heavily influenced by the war.”

“So we are to just look at life and its sorrows and disappointments as blessings in disguise?”

“Well, if we can, why not?”

Lydia frowned. “I just don’t understand. If God truly loves us, why doesn’t He just keep us from the painful things to begin with? Why not just . . . well, force other people to . . .” She seemed at a loss for words.

Zerelda gave a chuckle. “Force other people to do what we want? That would take away their free will, then, wouldn’t it?”

“But what if they are evil people? Why do they deserve free will or God’s blessings? Surely God doesn’t love the evil man as much as He loves the good man.”

She heard the desperate need in Lydia’s voice and wished she could explain. “Suppose you have twins growing inside you. You give birth, and they grow up. One child is truly good, and one is bad. The good child obeys you and works hard to earn your approval, while the bad one grieves you and disappoints. Would you love one more than the other?”

“Well, it would certainly be easier to love the good child,” Lydia said thoughtfully. “He would be more pleasant to be around, and you would want to reward his actions.”

“True, but would you cease to love the child who did wrong— who showed no concern for you or your desires?”

Lydia seemed to consider this for several moments, until finally she spoke. “I cannot say. I can’t imagine turning away from any babe I give life to, but neither can I see myself happy with the actions of a selfish, willful child.”

“And so it is with God. He isn’t happy with the evil man or his actions, but neither can He completely turn His back on the man. He wants all to be saved and none to perish to eternal damnation.”

“So He even wanted Floyd to be saved? Marston and Mitchell, too? Despite all the suffering they have caused over the years, God would simply open the gates of heaven and welcome them in should they decide to ask Him?”

Zerelda did not miss the accusing tone of her voice. “My dear girl, who can know the mind of God? It’s more than we can fathom.

However, if you again think of the situation in regard to your own child or children, then I think understanding begins to dawn. Just consider it in that manner for a time.”

“I’m sorry, Zerelda. I don’t mean to be so unpleasant when it comes to something you hold so dear. A year ago, I wouldn’t have even engaged in such a conversation,” she admitted. “But you are helping me to see that maybe I have been wrong about other things in my life, so maybe . . . maybe I’m wrong about God, as well.”