Dawn's Prelude (19 page)

“Sure, I’ll talk to him, Liddie. If you really want me to,” Kjell replied.

“Good morning, all,” Captain Dimpfel announced. “I’m glad to find you here, Kjell.”

“Do you have news about the fire?” Zerelda asked.

He shook his head. “Not exactly. I sent my men into the Ranche this morning to look for the two Tlingit boys Kjell employed. No one has seen anything of them since yesterday. Of course, I think the family could be lying.”

“I know that family well,” Zerelda said. “I don’t believe they would lie about it, but just in case, I’ll go have a talk with their mother.”

She looked at Lydia. “Why don’t I take you home first?”

“I’ll get her home, Zee,” Kjell said. “You go ahead. I truly appreciate the help you’re giving. I doubt the family would be so willing to talk to me.”

“If you find them, Miss Rockford, please see to it that they come in immediately for questioning.”

“I will, Captain. You needn’t fear on that account.”

Lydia allowed Kjell to help her onto the wagon. It was extremely difficult with her long skirts and heavy abdomen. She thought it might have taken more effort to climb up onto the wagon seat than if she’d merely tried to walk the few miles home.

“Are you all right?” Kjell asked once she’d settled beside him.

“I found that positively exhausting,” she said with a laugh.

Kjell smiled. “I’ll have you home in a quick minute.”

“Shouldn’t you stop by the land office first and see about the property?”

“No, that can wait. I don’t want you sitting out in the cold, and I sure don’t want you having to get down from here more than once today.”

He guided the horses in the direction of Zerelda’s cabin. Lydia tried to focus on the scenery around her but found herself wishing she could offer Kjell some comfort regarding the fire. He seemed, however, to be taking it all fairly well.

“Kjell, how is it that you can be so . . . well, you don’t seem upset about the fire.”

“Oh, I’m plenty upset about it,” he admitted. “I lost some things that were pretty special to me, but in the end, they were only things. I’m worried about the boys. I hope if they did cause the fire that they will just admit it. I’ll forgive them, of course—I wouldn’t hold an accident like that against anyone.”

“But if it wasn’t an accident . . . If someone . . .” She thought again of Marston. He could have done this to exact revenge for Kjell’s confrontation.

“Are you all right?” Kjell asked. He moved to touch her arm with his gloved hand. “Liddie?”

“What if Marston did this to you?” She found she was unable to say anything more. Had she brought this misery upon Kjell? Was this all her fault?

“Liddie, stop it. I can almost hear your thoughts.”

She looked up at this and found him smiling. She shook her head. “This isn’t funny.”

“I didn’t say it was, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you.

If Gray did this, then he did it because I stood up to him—told him to leave. Not for any other reason.” Kjell urged the horses to pick up speed for the hill. “We’ll get to the bottom of what happened, but you need not concern yourself with it. I won’t have this fire be the cause of bringing on the baby too soon.”

The cold penetrated Lydia’s woolen skirts and coat, and by the time they pulled up in front of the cabin, her limbs felt half frozen. Kjell didn’t seem to mind that she moved ever so slow. He was good to assist her and seemed to enjoy lingering at her side as they moved up the porch steps.

“Why don’t I come in and get the fire built up? You look like you need to unthaw.”

Lydia nodded. “I would like that very much.” She decided against ridding herself of her coat and went to take her favorite chair at the fireside. The rocking chair was nearly identical to the one she’d left behind in Kansas City.

She watched Kjell set the logs on the dying embers. He worked with the kindling and soon brought the fire back to life. Once the logs were sufficiently blazing, he held out his hands to warm them.

Without thinking, Lydia looked up at him and asked, “Why did you kiss me last night?”

Kjell didn’t turn to acknowledge her but kept staring straight into the fire. “Seemed like the right thing to do. You appeared to be misunderstanding my feelings toward you, and I guess I didn’t want there to be any doubt about where I stood.”

Lydia considered this for a moment. She wasn’t about to pretend she didn’t understand, but at the same time, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear Kjell make any declarations of love or affection.

“I’ll get some wood in here, and then I’d better head back to the mill,” Kjell said after several minutes of silence.

She thought about stopping him but decided against it. She waited until he’d gone outside to get to her feet and move closer to the fire. What should she say to him? What could she say? She wasn’t sure of her feelings. Furthermore, there was the baby to consider. She had to do whatever was in the best interest of the child.

The sound of wood being chopped rang out. Lydia moved to the kitchen window, where she could see Kjell hard at work. He had taken off his coat, revealing the outline of muscles against the material of his shirt. With each swing of the ax, he displayed his strength and agility. Lydia found she could not look away. It was only the sound of a wagon approaching that drew her focus from the tall man.

Fear edged up her spine. What if Marston had come to pay her another call? She went to the door and cracked it open to look out. It was Zerelda.

“What did you find out, Zee?” Kjell called out. He was approaching the cart even as Lydia moved down the porch steps.

“No one has seen the boys, and I believe them. Their mother is frantic, and their grandfather has everyone in the clan looking for them.”

“I hope they haven’t come to harm,” Lydia said. She could see the frown on Kjell’s face and longed to ease his worry.

“Mr. Fuller had this for you, Liddie,” Zerelda announced, approaching with a letter. “He apologized for not getting it to you sooner. It came in on the last ship.”

Lydia took the missive, which was from Mr. Robinson. She stiffened. Her anger toward him for sharing information with Marston kindled anew. While Zerelda continued to speak with Kjell, Lydia went back into the house to read the missive.

Dear Mrs. Gray,
     I write this letter with grave concern and to offer a warning
for your well-being. My clerk, Mr. Lytle, was recently attacked. On
his deathbed, he told me of something most grievous. It seems your
stepsons coerced him into allowing them to see my records regarding
your whereabouts and other correspondences.

     I have no way of knowing what, if anything, the Grays plan to
do with this information, but suffice it to say they now know of your
location. I would be on the watch for them or their representative.

The letter continued with his most sincere apologies and concerns for what problems this might cause Lydia. She sighed in relief. Mr. Robinson had not betrayed her trust. She felt sadness that Mr. Lytle should have suffered such a vicious attack, but she could not bring herself to think in a forgiving manner for what he had done in giving Marston and Mitchell her information.

She read through the letter again, noting the date had been nearly a month earlier. So they had known about her all this time. Known where she was and that she carried their father’s baby. No doubt they had plotted and planned how to come to her—how to force her return.

But why? Why should they care so much where I live or what I
do? Why do they need me to return to Kansas City?

Chapter 15

November 1870

S
ad news of the Tlingit boys’ death came a few days later. The bodies of the brothers had been found by a local fisherman, who stated it looked as if the boys had both been beaten and strangled. Kjell didn’t take the news well. Now he was certain that the boys were innocent in setting the fire. But they had probably witnessed the real culprit.

“I’m heading over to Swan Lake to help cut ice,” Joshua announced. “You’ll let me know if there’s any work to be had here, won’t you?”

Kjell nodded. “If the weather stays decent, we’ll go cut some trees at the beginning of next week.”

“Good. I’d much rather log than deal with the ice.” Joshua paused by the door. He seemed hesitant to speak. “Kjell, there’s something you ought to know. I saw the Sidorovs earlier today. I think they’re staying at the Double-Decker.”

Kjell looked at the man for a moment. The place he spoke of was known to house anywhere from one hundred to two hundred destitute Russians at any given time. The people there were good about hiding their own, if the need arose.

“You’re sure?”

Joshua nodded. “I just wondered if maybe they had something to do with the fire—maybe even with the deaths of the boys. You know they treated them poorly. If they had snuck in here to set the place on the fire and the boys saw them, it wouldn’t have gone well.”

“No, I’m sure you’re right.” Kjell hadn’t considered the Sidorovs as suspects, however. He had treated them fairly, and they really had no reason to turn against him.

“Well, I just thought you should know, boss.”

Kjell didn’t bother to correct the younger man for his choice of title. “Thanks, Joshua.”

“I see no real reason to pay you in full,” Marston told the Sido-rov brothers. “You didn’t accomplish the job I paid you to do.”

Anatolli leaned in, nose to nose with Marston. “You refuse to pay us?”

Marston could see that the man hoped to intimidate him, but he was unconcerned. The Sidorovs had come recommended to him as two men who often spoke of their hatred for Kjell Lindquist.

That was the only reason they were useful to Marston.

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think to try and scare me; it won’t work. Don’t forget: I know what you did to those boys.”

The younger man backed up a pace, while his brother came to stand beside him. “We did the job,” Ioann stated. “It is no fault of ours that the firemen were able to control it. As for the boys—they were nothing. No one cares that they are gone, because they were only Tlingit.”

He eyed Marston as if sizing him up. Marston considered that the two men were larger than he was and could definitely take him in a fight. However, he had something they didn’t: a quick mind. The brothers were more brawn than brains, and Marston intended to use that to his advantage.

“I am not a man who is easily intimidated,” Marston said, crossing his arms against his chest. “And I have no intention of going back on my agreement with you. However, I don’t like to pay for sloppy work. There may be jobs for you in the future with me— jobs that will pay you far more money than you can imagine—but only if you can actually prove your capabilities.”

His statement about money caught their attention, just as Mar-ston had known it would. The brothers exchanged a conspiratorial look, and Anatolli shrugged. “We did as we were instructed. We could have set a better fire had the boys not interfered. We didn’t know they were still around—they surprised us, and we had to do what we could to get rid of them before someone found out what we were doing.”

Marston nodded. “Perhaps I have been too hard on you. You make a good point.” He pulled out some cash and handed it over to Anatolli. “I will give you this now, but you will need to prove yourselves to me.”

“What must we do?” Ioann asked.

Smiling, Marston knew he had regained their cooperation. “I will be in touch. In a few days, I will explain everything, but for now I have to make a few plans.”

He waited until the Sidorov brothers had gone their way before pulling on his coat and heading to the Russian Teahouse, where he’d made a habit of taking his midday meals. Marston was more than a little aware of the people surrounding him. He had made it his business to carefully watch the transactions of the people in this little town. Observation and attention to detail had benefited him on more than one occasion, and he had no reason to believe his time in Sitka would prove to be any different.

On the brief space of boardwalk just ahead of him, Marston spied Lydia’s aunt. He had introduced himself to the woman once before and knew she had no liking of him. Still, Marston had not yet had the opportunity to speak to her at any great length. Perhaps he could enlist her help for the right incentive.

“Good day to you, Miss Rockford,” he said, coming alongside the older woman.

Zerelda peered at the man for a moment before recognition dawned. “What do you want?”

He laughed. “You are one to get right to the heart of a matter.

I like that. I wonder if you might join me. I was just going to take lunch.”

“I have no desire to share the company of someone who would cause my niece harm.”

“But that is where you are wrong, Miss Rockford.” He smiled at the plain-looking woman. No doubt she was unused to the attention and favors of men—at least men of means and attractive appearance. Maybe he could woo her. “I really have been misunderstood in this entire situation. I would like the chance to explain.”