[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain Read online

“Mother, please finish what you were saying.”

  She wiped her eyes with the edge of her apron. “He shot me.”

  The words were so matter-of-fact that for a moment they didn’t register in Dalton’s mind. “He what?”

  “I can’t,” his mother said, shaking her head.

  Evie had nearly reached them. Lydia turned to look at her. “You tell him. You tell him what happened after Anatolli shot me. You tell Dalton who was responsible for them coming to take him.”

  The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. Dalton said nothing as his mother walked away. He felt torn between a desperate need for her to return and sorrow that he’d caused her such distress. It was clear that she was shaken to the very soul of her being.

  He looked at Evie. “I want to know what this is all about. All I understand is that those who’ve lived in this town long enough know more about my life than I do. It isn’t right, and I want answers.”

  “Even at the price you’ve cost her?”

  “It’s my right!” Dalton pounded his fist against the chair. “I’m tired of the lies and the secrets. I want answers.”

  “Stop throwing a fit and maybe I’ll give them to you. You’re a grown man now, Dalton. Act like one—instead of a demanding child.”

  “I’ve lived with this shadow over me all of my life, Evie. I have brothers and another sister I was never told about. Why did you never say anything?”

  She shrugged. “Because your mother preferred for me to say nothing.”

  “But it doesn’t make sense. So what if my real father—our father—was a difficult man? Why should she not tell me about him, about my family? Now Mother says someone came to take me from her—someone who shot her? What is that all about? What is going on?”

  “Our brother Marston hired two men to steal you from Lydia. Our brothers are just as corrupt and evil as our father. Our sister Jeannette is just as selfish and heartless.”

  “Jeannette? The same one you get letters from? She is our sister?” Dalton asked.

  Evie nodded. “Yes, we occasionally correspond, though we’ve never been close. Jeannette is not a very good sister to anyone, and I often forget about her altogether. But that aside, Marston is the one who caused most of the trouble.”

  “But I don’t understand. Why would he want to take me from my mother?”

  “Money,” Evie said frankly. “Your mother had inherited our father’s fortune. Our brothers and sister were livid. They wanted it returned. Your mother graciously gave them back a portion, but because you were also a Gray child, she felt you deserved to inherit, as well.”

  “I know nothing about an inheritance. This doesn’t make sense.”

  Evie put her hand to her temple for a moment. To Dalton, it looked as if she was struggling to determine how much she could really say and how much needed to remain a secret. Finally she spoke in a soft, deliberate manner.

  “Perhaps . . . in time it will. For now you have to understand that our brother was responsible for nearly killing your mother. He ordered it done—he planned for her to die so that he could lay claim as your next of kin. That way the money would come back to the family through you.”

  Dalton sat down hard. The wind was nearly knocked from his lungs. “What happened after the man shot Mother?”

  Evie’s tone softened as she sat down in the seat Lydia had occupied only moments earlier. “The men who attacked her that night took you to Marston. In turn, Marston killed Anatolli, but his brother, Ioann, got away. Marston took you to Kansas City, but everyone here thought you were dead. That was what Marston wanted people to believe. Kjell fought to save your mother’s life—getting her and Zerelda to the hospital as quickly as he could. Lydia was unconscious for a long time—they didn’t think she would make it.”

  “What happened to Marston?”

  “When he arrived in Kansas City several weeks later, he put you in my care, telling me your mother had died in childbirth. I was miserable in my marriage and desperately needed to focus on something else. You were the answer. I was content to raise you and forget about my other problems. I felt it was something I could do to honor your mother. But the truth came out. Your mother hadn’t died. She very nearly did, and even when she recovered she had no memory for a long while. She didn’t know Kjell or Zerelda, and she didn’t remember having a son.”

  “How could she not know?” he asked.

  Evie shook her head. “She had lost a lot of blood, and the doctor said that, along with the shock of what had happened, had caused her to temporarily forget.”

  “How did you learn that she was still alive?”

  “I overheard a conversation between our brothers and my husband one afternoon. It was then that I realized that Marston had tried to end Lydia’s life in order to have control of you and the inheritance. The entire matter sickened me. I felt a fool for not having figured it out sooner.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I set plans into motion to get you back to Lydia. I told my husband I wanted to take you to England and show you off to friends. My brothers thought this a great plan. See, I knew they would want to get you out of sight so that if Lydia sent the police, they wouldn’t find you.”

  “So you pretended to go to England but came here instead?”

  “Yes. It wasn’t until I showed up with you that Lydia regained her memory in full. She had been getting bits and pieces of it back over her long recovery. But when I showed up with you, she passed out from the shock. It was as if everything came back to her at once and was simply too much to bear.”

  Dalton rubbed his eyes, nearly overwhelmed by all that Evie had just shared. “Please go on. What happened after that?”

  “With my testimony and that of Ioann Sidorov, we saw Marston tried for kidnapping. He wasn’t charged with murder or even attempted murder. He denied having anything to do with Anatolli’s death and suggested that Ioann had done it.

  “He did admit to arranging the kidnapping, but he said that he had never wanted any harm to come to anyone in the process. He lied and said that he was simply worried for your well-being in the wilds of Alaska. He said your mother was ill-equipped to care for you, and that her mind had never been strong. The judge didn’t know her, of course, and chose to believe Marston. At least he believed in the money Marston paid him behind the scenes. Marston was sentenced to five years in prison but served none of it. Instead, he was given probation. While the verdict removed him from his place in polite society, it seemed to garner him an even more powerful position among those in the world of crime. From what I’ve heard from our sister, he’s made a nice sum of money for himself once again and has a great many dangerous friends.”

  “So he got away with killing that Anatolli man and trying to kill my mother.”

  “And injuring Aunt Zee. Not only that, but there were other things that happened, and Marston seemed to be tied to those, as well. But he’s so crafty. He always manages to buy or talk his way out of any guilt. Can you see now why your mother kept this from you?” Evie took hold of his hand. “Dalton, you mustn’t hate her for the secrets she kept. The truth was so hideous, so distasteful, that she couldn’t bear to let it affect your upbringing. She thought it would protect you in the long run.”

  He shook his head. “Protect me from what?”

  Evie straightened. “From Marston, of course. He won’t let the matter rest forever. We fear he will someday find you—try to persuade you to join him—to be your father’s son.”

  Chapter 2

  Dalton thought long and hard on the facts his sister had delivered. They sat in silence, staring out at the lush forest and snow-capped mountains. Dalton’s mother had once told him there was a symphony of music that seemed to come from Alaska itself, but right now all he could hear was the drumming of his heart. The accusations and angry replies were hurled back and forth.

  They lied to me.

  They didn’t really lie; they simply concealed the truth.

  But the truth was
important—it was the truth about my life, about who I am.

  They were protecting you. The man your sister described would have killed you if you crossed him. Your mother didn’t betray you; she only tried to keep you from harm.

  She should have told me.

  “She should have told me,” Dalton murmured in echo to his thoughts.

  “What?”

  He looked at Evie. “Mother should have told me the truth. I deserved to know. I needed to know.”

  “No matter the cost to herself? My, this really is all about your selfish needs.” Evie got to her feet and stared down at him.

  “I thought you were mature enough to handle this, but maybe I was wrong. You’re acting like a spoiled child who suddenly learns the last of the pudding was secreted away to another member of the family.”

  Dalton jumped to his feet. “That’s not fair! I haven’t pushed for this until now. If it were your life, you’d want to know.”

  “Yes. I’d want to know. But I fail to see how it would be productive to assign blame and point fingers. Dalton, at this point it doesn’t matter who should have told you and how much detail they should have shared. Choices were made with your welfare in mind. What can it possibly matter now?”

  He thought about this for a moment. “All of my life I’ve felt that there was something more to me—some important part that was missing. I suppose that’s because I knew there was another part of my life that no one wanted to talk about.” Dalton looked at his sister. “I just need to know who I am.”

  She shrugged. “You’re Dalton Gray Lindquist. You are what you make of yourself.”

  “But there’s more to it than that. You talk about a father I never knew. Mother called him cruel. You tell me he was an evil man—but I don’t know that for myself.”

  “Thank God!” she declared. Her face contorted in disgust as she gave a shudder. “You have no idea what God has saved you from.”

  “But he was our father.”

  Evie shook her head. “Forgive my crudity, but he was only the man who impregnated our mothers. Dalton, he cared only for himself. Children were nothing more to him than pawns. He cared more for making money than for seeing to the needs of anyone in his family.”

  “But that doesn’t make him evil.”

  “He killed my mother!” Evie declared without warning. She put her hand to her mouth as if to smother the truth, then just as quickly drew it away. “I saw him.”

  “I’m so sorry, Evie. I had no . . . idea.”

  A gentle breeze blew across them and Evie shivered. Dalton didn’t know if it was from the chill in the air or her memories, but he put his arm around her shoulder. Evie looked up at him.

  “Dalton, I was just four years old when I saw my father throw my mother to her death. He had no idea I’d seen him. For years I lived in fear he would discover I knew the truth, and so I said nothing. He is a person best forgotten. You are nothing like him— take comfort in that.”

  But he didn’t take comfort. So far he’d heard that his father and brother were killers—that they were ruthless and took what they wanted no matter the price. This was his heritage. What comfort could he possibly take in such knowledge?

  “It just seems there’s always been something missing . . . and it certainly has nothing to do with whether or not Kjell was a good father. He was. He is. But there is this shadow that hangs over me.” Dalton shook his head. “And now with all that you’ve told me, it feels almost overwhelming. I can’t explain it, but it’s as if parts of the past are fighting to find their place in my life.”

  “For your sake, and that of your family, I hope you’ll find a way to kill them before they have a chance to take hold of you,” Evie replied.

  Dalton was silent a moment before responding. It wasn’t like Evie to suggest such a violent measure. “I can’t very well put an end to something that I don’t even know or recognize.”

  Evie looked at him intently. “The Bible says to flee the devil, Dalton. Our father . . . Marston . . . Mitchell . . . even Jeannette . . .

  they have always done the devil’s bidding. I have no evidence to suggest they are any different today than they were the year you were born. They are best forgotten.”

  “I just don’t know that I can do that. They are a part of who I am. It’s like you’re suggesting I cut off my hand.”

  “If your hand were harming you as Marston has and may still try to do in the future,” Evie countered, “I’d cut it off myself . . . just to save you.”

  Joshua Broadstreet looked up to find Kjell Lindquist brushing rain from his jacket as he made his way through the door. The sawmill had once belonged to Kjell, but years ago he’d made Josh his partner and then eventually sold his interests in order to pursue building houses and businesses in the area.

  “I knew yesterday’s sunshine wouldn’t last,” Kjell said with a smile.

  “I have some coffee on. Wanna cup?”

  “Sounds good.” He followed Joshua into the office. “Will you have any trouble getting me that order of lumber by the first?”

  Josh poured the coffee and brought it to Kjell. “I don’t think so. We haven’t produced as much, what with my Tlingit workers gone. I have logs coming in steady, and most of your order is cut or nearly so. My other guys have been better about showing up sober since I started withholding pay when they come in drunk or suffering from the day after. The Creole boys I hired aren’t giving me the quality of work I prefer, but I’ll just have to take what I can get. If they just stop drinking, we should get by all right. Somehow, even with the Tlingits out of the village, the Creoles still seem to get a hold of that hooch the natives make. I swear that stuff is strong enough to strip rust off of metal.”

  “For a district that isn’t allowed to import liquor, we certainly have our fair share. I suppose import laws don’t apply to making the stuff here.” Kjell sipped the hot liquid and took a seat. “That pot never fails to make good coffee.”

  Joshua joined Kjell and took a seat. “It serves me well.”

  “You’ve done a good job with the business. I’m glad it’s worked out. I’m a lot happier with what I’m doing. I just finished up some repair work on the governor’s house, in fact.”

  Josh nodded. “I heard that the new governor is due here any day. It’ll be interesting to see what changes occur around here.”

  “No doubt he has his own agenda.” Kjell smiled. “Still, political newcomers never quite seem to know what to expect in coming here. It’s always rather amusing.”

  “Especially when they come from one of those big eastern cities. When they’re used to being able to snap their fingers and get whatever they want, it’s always a shock to come to Sitka.”

  “Some folks aren’t cut out for life here.” Kjell took a sip of his coffee. “I remember how hard it was on a lot of the enlisted men who served with the army. They never did seem to adapt to being stationed up here. Men were always deserting and trying to stow aboard whatever ship they could.”

  “When the army moved out of here, I had my concerns, but the navy seems to have adapted well to protecting and bringing order to the area. Now that Sitka is an organized district and we’re getting judges and governors, I would expect things to go even better.”

  “It should prove interesting to see what changes come next. Lydia and Evie are worried the region will grow too fast and too big. They prefer the small, intimate feel of living here.”

  At the sound of Evie’s name, Josh turned away. He tried hard not to think of the beautiful blond-haired woman. She was married. He reminded himself of that fact countless times a day. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t seen her husband in eighteen years. It didn’t matter that Josh had loved her since he’d first laid eyes on her. She was still married.

  “For two women who grew up in a luxurious big city, they’ve done quite well. Lydia tells me she prefers the quiet of life here. She said there was constant noise in the city.”

  “I remember it, too. You
forget I’m not a native to the area, either,” Josh said, trying to put aside his discomfort. “Although after all these years, I feel like it. I can hardly remember my life before coming here.” Before Evie came here. Why can’t I purge my thoughts of her?

  He knew nothing could ever come of his adoration for the woman. He was already forty-four, and it seemed the hope of a wife and family had passed him by. But truthfully, he wanted no other woman. Evie had complete control of his heart. He had loved her in silence for all these years, and he would go on loving her. The one thing he would never do was dishonor her with a declaration. He loved her too much for that.

  As if thoughts of her had willed her to him, Evie Gadston peered into the office. “I’ve come bearing gifts,” she announced.

  “Zee and Lydia sent these.” She deposited a plate of cinnamon rolls on Joshua’s desk and flashed him a smile. “They’re still warm.”

  The years had been most kind to Genevieve Gadston. At thirty-six, she could have passed for ten years younger. She comported herself in grace and refinement as if she still walked among society’s finest.

  The scent of the rolls drew his attention from her face momentarily. “They’re the perfect thing to go with our coffee,” he said. He met her deep blue eyes again. Oh, Evie.

  “So are you two getting any work done today?” she asked. “It was beginning to drizzle at home, but by the time I made it to town, it was pouring. I thought I might actually see you on the road headed home, Kjell. Didn’t Lydia say you were supposed to be putting a roof on a house today? Surely it’s much too slippery for that in this rain.”

  “I saw I wasn’t going to get much done and came to jaw with Josh,” Kjell admitted. “What about you? How come you came out in this? Surely there was more to it than just delivering food to Josh here.”

  She laughed. “I’ve lived here long enough now to know that if you don’t go out in the rain, you don’t get anything done. Besides, Lydia wanted me to pick up some things for her at Arnie’s.”

  “I’m glad you stopped by,” Josh said, trying not to sound overly eager. “It’s always nice to have an excuse to take a break. With you and Kjell here, I don’t feel the least bit guilty in sitting around. In fact, I think I’ll just treat myself.” He popped the remaining bite of roll into his mouth and reached for another.