Evie looked at the letter from Jeannette and sighed. She started to put it aside, then thought better of it. It was nearly dinnertime, but Lydia and Zee had things well under control. She opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper. How strange that there was so little news. Jeannette usually filled pages with all manner of gossip.
Genevieve,
You must return to Kansas City at the earliest possibility. Your husband is gravely ill and is not expected to live.
Evie reached for the nearest chair and sat down before continuing.
He has asked for you multiple times and begs for us to send you to him. I know this letter may not reach you in time, but you must come. We’ve arranged a train ticket to be waiting for you at the station in Seattle. The journey will no doubt be quite arduous, but there seemed no other choice.
No matter the past, you must come. You are his wife and it is expected that you should be at his side.
The letter ended there. Nothing more—nothing to state what illness had befallen Thomas Gadston. No mention of why he had asked for her.
“You look as though you’ve swallowed a fly,” Lydia said, coming to set the table.
Evie looked up, and Lydia immediately sobered. “What’s wrong?” There was fear in her voice.
“It’s Thomas. He’s dying.” She straightened and folded the letter.
“At least that’s what Jeannette says. He’s asking for me.”
Lydia put the dishes on the table and sat down beside Evie.
“When was the letter written?”
Opening the letter again, Evie noted the date. “June sixth.”
“That’s over a month ago.” Lydia shook her head. “You don’t suppose he’s still . . . well . . . alive?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t say at all what’s wrong with him, and given Jeannette’s penchant for exaggeration, who can know if she’s even telling the truth. He might not have anything more serious than a cold. She could be trying to trick me into coming home.”
Lydia folded her hands and considered this for a moment. “But to what purpose?”
Evie wished she knew. She couldn’t help but feel as though she were drowning. Her chest was tight and air seemed unable to pass to her lungs. What was she to do? Should she go home? If she did, would she be able to return to Sitka?
“I don’t know what to do,” she murmured. “Jeannette says a train ticket has been arranged for me in Seattle.” She looked up at Lydia. “I don’t want to go.”
Lydia reached out and put her arm around Evie. “I don’t really see how you can avoid this. Even if he’s already passed, you have an obligation to settle his affairs.”
“Surely he has people for that. I’ve been gone for eighteen years. No one would even imagine that I’d return.”
“Your sister would,” Lydia reminded her.
Evie looked at the letter and tossed it aside. “I don’t care what Jeannette wants. She’s such a ninny. No one thinks like she does.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Lydia dropped her hold. “He’s your husband, and he is asking for you. He may well be hanging on just to see you again. Perhaps he hopes to apologize.”
Getting to her feet, Evie looked at Lydia in disbelief. “Apologize? Apologize for never loving me? For hiring his secretary to seduce me? Perhaps he should apologize for never uttering one word to me in nearly a score of years.” She began to pace. “I see no reason to adhere to his request. He cannot simply snap his fingers after all these years and expect me to come running.”
“You’re upset, and with good reason. You need to take some time to think this through before making a decision.” Lydia stood. “Evie, don’t be rash about this matter. You might well make a choice that you’ll end up regretting for the rest of your life.”
“Like allowing my father to force me into a loveless marriage? Oh, that’s right; I had no say on that point. Neither did you, as I recall.” Her snide tone caused Lydia to wince, and Evie immediately regretted her attitude. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I’m so sorry. None of this is your fault, yet here I am taking it out on you.”
Lydia embraced her. Evie resisted at first, then fell against her as her last bit of strength fled. “Why couldn’t Jeannette simply have written to say he was dead? Why couldn’t the matter be settled without my participation?”
“Evie, God has a plan and purpose for everything. We cannot always see it or understand why it should happen. Usually, that isn’t even as important as remembering that we can trust Him to see us through.”
“I want to trust Him,” Evie admitted. “I don’t want to be so weak and frightened in this. I really don’t. I just don’t know what to do.”
Lydia pulled back and smiled. “Often admitting our weakness and fear is the first step to finding rest in God. Our trust in Him isn’t conveyed through superhuman confidence, as much as it comes in the way of a childlike reliance on Him.”
“But I don’t know how to do that.”
“I think very few people fall into it naturally. I found that I had to pray a great deal to learn to let God take charge. When we don’t know what to do, we must pray. Not as a last resort, but rather as the first step to finding true understanding and peace.”
Evie nodded. “I know you are right. I know you are.” The tears began to fall. “I just don’t know what to even say. I don’t know what to pray.”
“Then we will ask God for that, as well. We will ask for His will to be done—for His direction to be revealed. We will give it over to Him and trust that the answer will be made plain.”
Chapter 8
At breakfast the next morning, Evie announced she would go to Kansas City. Though it went against everything inside her, it was the only way to put an end to the past. If her husband had already died, then she would be truly free. If he hadn’t, she could at least hope to make peace with him and then return to Alaska.
Kjell picked up his coffee mug and before sipping said, “It seems to me that this would be the perfect opportunity for Dalton to meet the rest of his family.”
Evie felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. Kjell continued, “I think it would give Lydia peace of mind to know that Evie is with him, to offer protection of a sort. And he can do likewise for her.”
Lydia looked down at her plate. “I suppose it would be the sensible solution.”
“What do you think, son?”
Dalton looked to his father. “I guess I wasn’t supposing an opportunity would present itself so soon.” He glanced at Evie.
“Would you want my company?”
“I would value it greatly. It’s a long, arduous trip back to Missouri—not for the faint of heart. Of course, I’ve not made the journey in eighteen years, so perhaps it has improved.” She smiled.
“And though you don’t remember it, you were there. How strange.
We made that trip together. I was your protector, and now you will be mine.”
“A rather strange legacy,” Lydia murmured. “But I have often found such completed circles in my own life.”
“Would we stay long?” Dalton asked.
Evie shook her head. “Not if I have anything to say about it. I don’t want to go in the first place, but I know it’s expected.”
“There will be legal matters to settle,” Lydia mentioned.
Evie’s head swam with thoughts of what would have to be done. “If Thomas is dead. If he’s not, then I’ll have to decide about waiting around or returning. I really have no interest in sitting by his deathbed.”
“I think you’d hate yourself if you didn’t go,” Kjell said in a sympathetic tone. “A lot of times in life, we find ourselves faced with tasks we’d rather not do, but to leave them undone will only cause more discomfort in the long run.”
“I know. I’ve considered all of that, and that is why I have decided to go back.” Evie pushed her uneaten meal away and leaned back in her chair. “I think having Dalton with me might well give me the strength I need.�
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She turned to face him. “I can pay you for the time you’ll be away from your job.”
“It’s not necessary. Apparently, I’m heir to a great fortune.” He looked at his mother and winked.
“You mean like up in the air?” Britta questioned. She shook her head. “How can Dalton be up in the air?”
“Heir with an h, not air,” their mother corrected. “It means that Dalton has inherited money.”
“Where did the money come from?” Britta asked. “Is there money for me, too?”
Dalton reached over and pulled gently on her earlobe. “And whatever would you do with money, Miss Britta? All of your needs are provided for. Money would just get you into trouble.”
“Well, I could have some pretty dresses and a new doll,” she said. “And a horse of my own. I really want a horse of my own.”
Everyone gave a laugh at this. Britta had been asking for a horse for as long as anyone could remember. Her father had tried to explain to her that livestock was expensive to keep on the island and that any such animal had to earn its keep, not merely be around to entertain young ladies.
“If I had lots of money, I could pay for his hay.” She looked to her mother. “So do I have a air-a-tance, too?”
“We will discuss that at a more appropriate time. Right now, if you don’t finish your breakfast, you’ll be late for school. Zee is already hitching the wagon to take you and Kjerstin. Now eat.”
“I need to get to work,” Dalton said, getting up from the table. He looked down at Evie. “I will go with you to Kansas City. It seems to me God has opened this door to the both of us as a means to put our pasts to rest.”
In that moment, Evie knew it, as well. She nodded. “We will need to leave right away.”
She sat at the table nursing her tea long after everyone else had gone. Lydia cleared the table in silence, but Evie could very nearly hear her unasked questions. Looking up, she caught Lydia watching her. “He’ll be fine. I won’t let any harm come to him.”
Lydia nodded and stopped what she was doing. “I just . . . well . . . I worry that Marston and Mitchell will try to manipulate him.”
“I know, but I’ll fight against that happening.”
“You’ll have your own needs to see to,” Lydia replied.
“But I’ll have Dalton stay with me. We’ll get rooms at a hotel.”
Evie frowned. “Unless Thomas is dead, and then we can go to the house.”
She tried not to think about life in Kansas City. She had put that part of her life out of her mind for so long that Evie honestly didn’t know how to deal with the matter. What would it be like to see Thomas again? What would her brothers and sister be like? Everyone had aged, no doubt, but what had the years done to their personalities and attitudes? She had given witness against her own brother. Marston wasn’t one to easily forget that fact. He would no doubt hate her for her interference—for taking Dalton away from them.
“It won’t be easy,” Lydia said in a whisper.
Evie met her gaze. “No.” If anyone understood the depths of this matter, it was Lydia.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t go,” Lydia said suddenly. “What if they mean you harm?”
“I don’t know. I’ve considered that myself.” Evie knew her brothers could be cruel, just as their father had been. She didn’t trust any of them—not even Jeannette. “It comforts me to know that Dalton will be with me, however. He is strong, Lydia.”
The woman sat down and leaned back in her chair. “Yes. Yes, he is. I’ve raised him not to hate, but to embrace life and do good.
Part of the reason I never spoke of his brothers and Jeannette was because I didn’t want him to hear the ugliness in my account of them.”
“You did a good thing in that,” Evie said.
“Still, there is so much anger and hatred in the facts of what happened. I know Dalton will go and meet them—see for himself who they are. And I don’t believe they have changed.” She leaned forward with a piercing look. “I know that sounds awful, but there are some people who simply aren’t redeemable.”
“I’ve no doubt that you’re right. Jeannette’s detailed accounts of the family and their doings proves that to me, if nothing else. Marston associates with many underhanded people. Mitchell too. They don’t care about anything but themselves and the money they can make. That’s why I’m not worried about Dalton. He won’t be deceived by that.”
“But they will show him opulence and power,” Lydia countered. “It will be a completely different world to him. He will be tempted—everyone is.”
“Then we must pray for his strength to be multiplied and his focus to remain on the Lord.” Evie leaned forward. “Lydia, I don’t think Dalton will be distracted by those things. He is searching not for possessions, but for an understanding of who his family was—who they are now. Marston and Mitchell won’t be able to disguise their true natures for long. Even if they pretend to have the hearts of saints, Dalton will see right through them.”
Lydia considered this for a moment, then nodded very slowly. “You’re right, I know. He’s a good man. He’s young and inexperienced in the wicked ways of others, but he’s intelligent.”
“And so am I,” Evie added. “And I bear the scars to prove how hard-fought that intelligence came. Together, we will be a force to be reckoned with.”
Dalton hadn’t expected to see Phoebe Robbins in town that morning, but there she was, like a ray of sunshine brightening everything around her. “Good morning,” he said, feeling that same awkward sense of displacement he’d felt before.
“We always seem to meet at the most unexpected times,” Phoebe said. She pushed back a single long braid of hair and smiled.
“I have to say, it’s a most pleasant surprise.”
“I was thinking the same.” He wanted to say something about the trip he would take but couldn’t think how to bring up the subject. Instead, he thought of how lovely she looked in her flower-print dress. “You are very pretty, Miss Robbins.”
She blushed and looked away. “That was a rather bold thing to say.”
He laughed. “Well, I believe in telling the truth. Why play around with words when speaking what’s on your heart is more important?”
Phoebe looked up just long enough to catch his gaze. “And what is on your heart, Mr. Lindquist?”
“A great many things,” he revealed.
“I see. I must admit, I have a great many things on my heart, as well. Like a certain gentleman I’ve just come to know.”
“Now who’s being bold?”
She feigned confusion. “Why whatever do you mean? I was merely referring to Mr. Seymour.”
“Arnie?” Dalton asked with a grin. “And what in the world placed Mr. Seymour on your heart?”
She shrugged. “He seems a lonely man. Has he no wife?”
“Women are at a premium around here. You’ll soon learn for yourself that suitors will come calling in great numbers. Arnie might even give it a try.”
“Oh, he’s much too old for me, and not at all the kind of man I would fancy to court.”
Dalton couldn’t help but smile. “And what kind of man do you fancy?”
She tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. “I prefer the type who are industrious, creative . . . educated, but not too educated.” Phoebe paused and shrugged. “I can’t really put it into words, but I’ll know him when I find him.”
“So you are looking.”
“Looking?” she questioned.
“For that one man—that industrious, creative, educated man— the one you would fancy to court.”
Phoebe smiled and toyed with the edge of her bonnet. “It’s possible, Mr. Lindquist. Quite possible. I am eighteen, and many of my friends are already married. I wouldn’t want to be an old maid.”
He laughed heartily at this. “I seriously doubt you will have that problem, Miss Robbins. I, for one, cannot even imagine the possibility of that occurring.”
“Phoe
be?” her mother called from just up the street. “Come help me with this material.”
She gave him one more smile. “It was wonderful to see you again. Good day, Mr. Lindquist.”
“Good day, Miss Robbins.”
It was only after she’d gone that Dalton remembered that he was leaving. Would she care that he’d be absent from the island for several weeks, maybe even months? He thought to call after her.
“What can I say?” He stared after Phoebe and her mother as they moved down the street. “I can hardly tell her that she’s bewitched me and that I’d like very much to be that industrious, creative, educated man she wants to court.”
Later that day, Dalton explained everything to Mr. Belikov and Yuri, even offering to bring back any needed supplies from Seattle. “We probably won’t return until September, but I would be happy to take your list with me.”
“That would be good,” Mr. Belikov said, nodding. “There are some things a person would like to have handpicked instead of merely ordered. Don’t worry about a thing, Dalton. You will have a job waiting here for you when you return.” He pulled off his leather apron. “I will go see what we need.”
Yuri leaned over Dalton’s shoulder as his father left the room.
“You might still have a job, but if I have anything to say about it— you won’t have a girl.”
Dalton turned. “I can’t worry about our contest with this on my plate. My sister needs me. And, to be honest, I need this trip, as well.”
Yuri’s smile faded and he took hold of Dalton’s arm. “You will come back?”
“Of course.”
“There will be many excitements down there. My father says there is much pleasure to be had in the big cities.”
“There is also much danger,” Dalton replied. “My father has told me that, as has my mother. But it won’t tempt me to stay.”
“Why not? Because of Phoebe?” Yuri asked, letting his lips curl into a grin.
[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain Page 8