Dawn's Prelude (33 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: Dawn's Prelude
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“Are you all right?” Kjell asked. “We can return to the house. You need to take it slow and easy.”

“Perhaps we should go back.” Lydia didn’t want to admit to how quickly she tired.

Kjell nodded and gathered their collection of rice. “We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.”

“It was so enjoyable,” Lydia said as he came to her side. “I love how quiet and peaceful it is here.”

He put his arm around her. “And I simply love you.”

“I know you do. I’m so grateful for that love.” Pausing, Lydia looked deep into his eyes. “You would tell me the truth if I asked for it, wouldn’t you?”

Kjell frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I know that you and Zerelda know a lot more about my past than you are telling me. I also know the doctor said to not push myself and let time heal my body and mind. But, Kjell, you wouldn’t try to keep things from me, would you?”

She studied his expression as he considered her question. It was obvious that he was hesitant to reply.

“Do you remember the verses we studied this morning?”

Nodding, Lydia reflected on their devotions. “It was about forgetting the past.”

“I chose those verses because I thought God was leading me to share that with you. The past has its place in our life, but the present is so much more important. Living here and now, with a heart for what’s truly beneficial and important.”

“But you have all of your memories, so it’s easier for you to say that.” Lydia started toward home and found Kjell quickly keeping step with her.

“It’s not that it’s easy,” Kjell declared, “but I have come to a better understanding. All through the Bible you will find verses that speak of forgetting the past. The past isn’t something we can change or enhance. It cannot be rearranged or made over to better satisfy our current state. I firmly believe that God wants us to put the past to rest—as if it has died and we are burying it. Once a person dies and you bury them, you have no means by which you can bring them back to life. Even in memory, they are still gone. In the same way, the past is still gone, even when you dwell on it.”

“It’s so hard not knowing who I really am. I find that every day I must confront that reality. Do you realize how many things we react to purely based on our experiences? I would venture to say that nearly everything is that way. I have no experiences for many of the things I confront.”

His expression grew sympathetic, and with great tenderness he touched her face. “In many ways I think you are the blessed one of us all. You have the ability to forget the pains and sorrows of the past and start anew. You get to make choices and plans based on nothing more than how you perceive them at this point in time.

I find that rather refreshing . . . but I also respect that you feel overwhelmed at times.”

Lydia grew thoughtful. “I’d never really thought to see it as a blessing. I’ve only focused on the grief of not knowing—of feeling lost. But I have you and I have Zerelda.” She smiled. “And you have both given me such love. I suppose eventually, should my memory not return, I will find a way to put it all away from me and enjoy what I have. I am trying to let it go, you know.”

Kjell nodded. “I do, and you have done a wonderful job.” He kissed her gently. “No one could expect more.”

Chapter 28

I
really love this time of year,” Lydia said. She and Zerelda were working together to prepare the garden soil. “Everything seems so alive and fresh.”

“Spring goes rather quickly up here,” Zerelda explained, “but if you are wise and willing to work, you can use the lengthening hours of sunshine and grow a wealth of food. Then later in the summer, all the berries will ripen and we’ll go picking. That’s always fun but dangerous, too. The bears like to gather them, as well. The two most important things about berry picking are to remember you aren’t alone out there, and never pick any white berry. White berries are always poisonous.”

Lydia nodded. “I’ll remember.” Then she frowned. “Well, at least I hope I will. I’ve probably said that about other things and now I can’t remember them at all.”

“Maybe in time you will,” her aunt encouraged. “The doctor said it wasn’t impossible. He’s seen folks recover their memories after enduring trauma. He’s hopeful for you.”

“If God is all-powerful, Zerelda, why doesn’t He give me back my memories?”

The question took the older woman by surprise. Lydia could see that she wanted to speak on the matter but hesitated. Finally Zerelda leaned on her hoe and answered.

“I suppose there are always things we want to ask of God. Why does He seem to tarry when people are sick? Why does He seem to favor one people and not another? Why does He allow bad weather, evil, and death? I don’t pretend to have the answers, Liddie. I do believe, however, that He has the power to make all things yield to His authority, and one day He will do just that.”

“And until then I will just have to content myself with starting over,” Lydia said with a sigh. She had known this was the direction her aunt would take. “I want to have faith—to trust Him—but it’s so hard. Kjell told me the other day that it’s best to put things behind us. He reminded me of that verse in Philippians 3 where it says, ‘But this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.’

I’ve read that passage in the Bible over and over.”

“So much so that you’ve memorized it,” Zerelda declared. “See there, you’re filling your mind with things that will help you over and over.” She smiled. “Dwelling on God’s Word is wonderful. It’s an important part of our inheritance.”

The last word permeated Lydia’s thoughts. Inheritance. Something about that was important to her—but what?

“Inheritance,” she murmured.

Zerelda was already back to work and looked up. “What was that?”

“Inheritance,” she said again. “For some reason that word seems important to me.” Lydia closed her eyes as if that might help her to recall the meaning. “Why would I think this?”

“Ah . . . well . . . perhaps because your father left you an inheritance. That’s how you came to live here. You took some of that money and moved to Alaska.”

Lydia opened her eyes and considered Zerelda’s explanation. She tried to put a memory with it, but nothing came to mind. “Was my father a wealthy man?”

“Yes. I suppose he was. He was a prudent businessman and knew how to practice restraint when it came to spending. I believe he thought it important to leave you with something.”

“Did I live with my father?” Lydia asked, leaning on her hoe again. “You said that I’m twenty-nine. Was I a spinster living under my father’s care? Had I decided to stay with him and take care of him after my mother died?” But the moment the words left her mouth, she noticed an ache settle in behind her eyes. She rubbed her forehead. “Never mind. I need to take a walk. I can’t bear this right now.”

“Pitkae and Nicoli have brought us a new order of logs like you asked, and Captain Briar is here to see you,” Joshua declared.

Kjell looked up from the log he’d been peeling. He hadn’t seen or heard much from the army officials since they’d decided to close Lydia’s case. Putting aside the spud bar he used for stripping the bark from the logs, Kjell went to the office to see what the man wanted.

“Captain, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Kjell said as he extended his hand.

“I know.” Briar shook his hand. “But something has developed in your case.”

A rush of fear washed over Kjell. “What is it?”

“We found Ioann Sidorov. He’s alive.”

“And the baby?” he asked hesitantly.

“We haven’t found him,” the captain replied. “But we may know where he is.”

“Tell me everything.”

The captain gave a hint of a grin. “We thought you might like to come over and be in on the interrogation.”

“Ioann is here?” Kjell asked in disbelief.

“Yes. They arrested him in Wrangle; then one of the men realized who he was when he recognized his name. They contacted us, and we had him brought here.”

Kjell was already heading for the door. “Let’s not waste time.”

It wasn’t a far walk to where they were holding Ioann, but Kjell thought it seemed like miles. Questions flashed through his mind as he joined several other men at a large table. Within moments, Ioann Sidorov was brought in. They had shackled his arms and legs, making his ability to walk more strained.

Ioann had lost a great deal of weight. His once-muscular body seemed almost skeletal, and his expression was void of emotion.

Meeting Kjell’s gaze, Ioann didn’t so much as blink.

The desire to beat the man to a pulp nearly sent Kjell flying across the room. He wanted to punish this man for what he’d done. Kjell gripped the seat of the wooden chair, however, and stayed in place. It was all he could do to concentrate on what was being said.

“Mr. Sidorov, as we have already explained, you are here to answer questions regarding an attack last February on Mrs. Lydia Lindquist and her aunt, Zerelda Rockford, as well as the subsequent kidnapping of Dalton Lindquist.”

Kjell watched the man carefully.

“I’ll talk,” Ioann said, “but only to help myself. I want to go home to Russia. Otherwise, I will not talk.”

“You’ll talk all right,” Kjell said in a threatening manner. He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll see to that.”

It was the first time Ioann showed any emotion. Fear clearly marked his expression as he turned to Captain Briar again. “If you let him harm me, I will never tell you anything.”

Briar looked at Kjell. “I would suggest you let us handle the investigation. We extended this courtesy to you because you are known to be a man capable of great control. Can you adhere to our rules?”

Nodding, Kjell forced himself to ease back in the chair. “I can and will.”

“Very well.” Captain Briar motioned to the man at his left and received a stack of papers. “The only arrangement we can offer, Mr. Sidorov, is this: If you will tell us everything you know, we will spare your life. If you refuse, we will hold a trial and then carry out the sentence immediately.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Ioann said. “I want to return to Russia. I cannot do that in prison.”

“You should have thought of that before breaking the law.” Captain Briar fixed his stern, unyielding eyes on the man. “I have already discussed this with you. We have enough evidence to tie you to the crime. We know you were involved, and now all that is left to do is find you guilty and hang you.”

Kjell watched Ioann wrestle with his options. It was obvious that he knew he was defeated. There was no other chance to save his life. Clenching his jaw tightly, Kjell pierced the man with his angry glare.

“All right. I do this thing,” Ioann agreed. He looked in defeat at the captain. “What do you want to know?”

The captain led the man back in time to the days just before the attack. “We want to know why you and your brother participated in such a heinous act.”

Ioann began to detail how Marston Gray had come to them after learning they’d been fired by Kjell.

“First he came to us because he heard we knew Kjell and held him a grudge. He was angry with him, too. He said Kjell had threatened him and that he wanted revenge. So he paid Anatolli and me to burn down the sawmill. Of course we tried, but the fire was put out before it got too bad.”

“What about Aakashook and Keegaa’n?” Kjell asked.

“I didn’t kill them. Anatolli did.”

Kjell shook his head. “That’s easy to say now. Your brother is dead and can’t dispute you.”

“It is true. They saw us lighting the fire. Anatolli told me to finish up and he would deal with them. He took them away, and I did not see what he did to them. He told me later he had killed them.”

“Did he say where he had taken them?” the captain asked.

Ioann shook his head. “He said very little. He was not happy to have done such a thing.”

“Then he shouldn’t have done it,” Kjell muttered. Captain Briar fixed him with a stare. Kjell drew a deep breath and swallowed his rage. He wasn’t helping matters.

“We did not see Mr. Gray for a long time, but when he found us again, he said he would pay us a lot of money for helping him reclaim what belonged to him. He wanted us to take the baby and bring it to him on the far side of the island.

“It was raining hard, and the storm was very bad,” Ioann continued. “We barely got our boat to shore when the worst of it hit.

Anatolli told me to let him go first. He was bigger and thought this would scare the women—make them . . . cooperate.”

“But they didn’t, did they?”

Ioann shuddered. “No. When we came in the older woman shot at us. Anatolli knocked the gun from her hand. She was not seeing me, as I was behind her. When Anatolli went up the stairs, I hit her hard over the head. I did not want to kill her, or I could have shot her.”

“Why didn’t you want to kill her? You were there to do just that, were you not?” Captain Briar asked.

“I was not there to kill. I wanted to help Anatolli get the baby so that we would get the money. Mr. Gray promised us a thousand dollars.”

“And you believed him?” Briar questioned in disbelief.

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