Finally, Dalton decided it would be best to just get the matter out of the way. Phoebe’s home was less than two blocks away, and with bag in hand, he walked the short distance, praying every step that God would help him to say the right things.
The gloomy day seemed the perfect backdrop for bad news. Dalton trudged through the muddy streets greeting those around him in an absent-minded manner. It wasn’t until he saw Yuri from a distance that he pushed aside thoughts of his task.
“Yuri!” Dalton called and waved.
His friend glanced up but didn’t return the greeting. He stared at Dalton for a moment, then turned and walked away. Dalton stopped and watched Yuri go. Apparently the time apart had not assuaged Yuri’s anger.
There is nothing I can do about it right now, Dalton reminded himself. He was in sight of the Robbinses’ house. The small building bore the same signs of weathering that most other places had, but Mrs. Robbins and Phoebe had done a good job of making it a home. Despite the wear of age, it seemed almost cheery with the lacy curtains that hung in the front window.
It will never be cheery after today.
Knocking on the door, Dalton prayed one more time for strength. There wasn’t any way he could make this easier for the family. No matter what he said, Mr. Robbins would still be dead, and their loss would be acute. Mrs. Robbins opened the door and beamed him a welcoming smile.
“Dalton—we didn’t know you were back.” She stepped back. “Please come in out of the cold.”
He did so and placed his bag just inside the door. Pulling off his cap, he looked at the woman. “I wonder if we could talk for a few minutes.”
“Of course. Phoebe is here, as well. Let me get her. She’s in the kitchen ironing. The boys have gone off with friends, so we should be able to speak without interruption.”
Dalton let her go, knowing that she would need her daughter to help steady her through the sorrowful news to come. Maybe he needed her, too. With Phoebe sharing the moment, Dalton knew he wouldn’t feel so alone. Still, this was her father, and the shock would be equally hard for her. Dalton ran his hand through his hair and silently wished he’d gone to get his folks first.
Phoebe stepped into the room at that moment and gone were all other thoughts. Her honey gold hair hung loose around her shoulders, and though her manner of dress was quite simple, Dalton thought she’d never looked more beautiful.
“I didn’t know you were coming today. I would have been at the docks,” she declared. She crossed the room to come closer. Her mother was right behind her or Dalton might have swept Phoebe into his arms.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get word to you ahead of time.” He braced himself and motioned to the sofa. “I wonder if we could sit. I need to speak with you—both.”
Phoebe smiled and nodded. “Of course. You sound so serious. Is something wrong?”
She took a seat, as did her mother. Both women looked to Dalton with such expectancy that he wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room. Instead, he pulled up a straight chair to sit directly in front of both women. He took Mr. Robbins’ letters from his pocket but didn’t hand them over.
“I’m afraid there is something wrong. I wish I didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news, but it has fallen to me, nevertheless.”
Mrs. Robbins’ smile faded as she glanced at her daughter. Phoebe leaned forward. “What is it, Dalton? Tell us now.”
“Your father . . . Mr. Robbins . . . I’m afraid he’s . . .” Dalton struggled with the word. It seemed so harsh, so final. “He’s dead.”
Phoebe shook her head in disbelief. Her mother stared back at Dalton, eyes wide and mouth dropped open in shock. He wanted to comfort them both, but they had unanswered questions. Rather than wait for them, Dalton continued.
“I spoke to him on the trip down to Seattle. He gave me these letters for you.” Dalton handed them over. “In fact, there were three letters, but one was for me. However, I didn’t realize that until days after your father and I had parted company.”
The women stared at the envelopes for a moment, then looked back to Dalton. Phoebe spoke first. “What happened? How did he die?”
“He jumped from the ship. A witness saw him, but by the time they were able to stop the ship and send rescue, there was no sign of him.” Dalton paused and drew a deep breath. “Let me back up a bit. When I talked to him on the ship, he seemed burdened. He had kept to himself throughout most of the trip, so I wasn’t even able to talk to him until the day before I debarked.
“I went to him to ask for Phoebe’s hand,” he said, looking at her apologetically. “I am sorry to mix such a wonderful event with so much sadness, but it’s important for you both to know.”
Phoebe nodded and looked to her mother. “We understand.”
Mrs. Robbins had tears streaming down her face but otherwise remained silent.
“He asked me to bring a letter back to you, Mrs. Robbins. When he had your letter delivered to me the next morning, there were two others with it. I presumed, as I said earlier, that they were for you both and the boys. I went about my business paying no attention to the letters, until three days later. At that time I noticed that one of them was addressed to me. When I read it, I became alarmed. It sounded very much as if Mr. Robbins was giving the care of his family over to me. I was certain that he was saying good-bye. I feared that he intended to do himself harm and needed proof.”
Dalton shifted uncomfortably. “I beg your forgiveness, but this, in turn, caused me to open your letters. When I saw what he’d written you, I went immediately to the authorities. They contacted the ship’s captain and eventually learned that Mr. Robbins had died at sea.”
“He couldn’t swim,” Mrs. Robbins said, speaking for the first time since hearing the news. “None of us can.” Her voice broke and a sobbing gasp escaped her. “Oh, what are we to do?”
Exchanging a glance with Phoebe, Dalton reached out to take hold of Mrs. Robbins’ hand. “I don’t want you to worry about anything. I love Phoebe very much, and I believe she loves me.”
“I do,” Phoebe whispered.
He fixed his eyes on her. “Do you love me enough to marry me?”
She nodded most somberly. “You know I do.”
Dalton looked back at Mrs. Robbins. “We will marry, and you will become my family. I will see to your needs. You mustn’t be afraid of the future.”
“But how can you take care of us? You’re hardly more than a boy yourself,” Mrs. Robbins said, shaking her head.
“I have money. My father left me an inheritance. It’s been in my mother’s care all these years. It is quite substantial and will be more than enough to see us through. I only ask one thing.”
“What is that, Dalton?” Phoebe questioned.
“That you remain here in Sitka. This is my home, and my business has always been here. I do not desire to leave. So for the time being, I would ask you to stay. If later you think it best to return to Vermont or some other place, I will see you safely there and provided for, but Phoebe and I would stay on here.”
“I can scarcely believe this,” Mrs. Robbins said, clutching the letter to her breast. “I . . . I . . . need to be alone.” She got to her feet and fled the room without another word.
For a moment Dalton and Phoebe sat in silence. He was glad the boys were not home. He thought it might be easier for them to hear the news from their mother—in private.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said.
“Don’t be. You did everything admirable and good,” Phoebe replied.
“But you deserve better than a proposal in the same conversation in which you learn of your father’s death.” Dalton got up and joined her on the sofa. Slipping his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her close and breathed in the scent of her hair.
Phoebe clung to him and buried her face against his chest. It felt so right to have her there. Dalton longed to kiss her, but now was not the time.
“We should marry as soon as possible,” he finally said.
“Yes. I agree.” She straightened and met his gaze. “Dalton, where will we live? There’s hardly room here for the four of us as it is.”
“I hadn’t really considered it, but I plan to build a business. I might as well build a house, too. I’ll need to talk to my father. For the time being, maybe your mother and brothers can remain here, and you and I can take a small place nearby. We could even move out to my place, but that wouldn’t keep us close to your mother.”
“I suppose there will be time to figure it all out.” She sounded so lost, and Dalton reflexively pulled her close again.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t have proposed in a romantic setting,” he said. “I have thought of nothing but you the entire trip. How is it that you worked yourself so completely into my heart when I wasn’t even looking?”
“I wanted to ask the same of you,” she said, trembling in his arms.
“Are you afraid?”
She said nothing, and Dalton couldn’t help but seek her face. “Look at me, Phoebe.”
She pulled back just enough to gaze upward. Dalton took hold of her face and caressed her cheek. “Don’t be afraid . . . not of me . . . not of the future. God has not forsaken us. He will guide our steps.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered. “I am . . . I am nervous— anxious. I want to be a good wife, but I . . . well . . . I’ve not even been kissed before. I’m afraid you will find me quite naïve.”
He smiled. “I don’t mind.” He traced a line along her jaw. “And I intend to remedy that matter of the kiss . . . very soon.”
She looked at him with such an expression of awe and delight that Dalton wanted nothing more than to kiss her then and there, but he held back. He wanted their first kiss to be just as special as their first night together. It was hard to hold off, but Dalton knew it would be worth the wait.
“Very soon,” he promised.
“I’m so glad to know you’re all doing much better,” Dalton said. He looked at his mother now tucked under a blanket, sitting in her favorite rocker. “I had no idea you were so ill.”
“We couldn’t very well get word to you,” Evie replied. She had just returned from seeing the girls to bed. “It all happened rather fast.”
“And without Phoebe, we would have been much worse off,” his mother added.
“She said nothing about it. Of course, my news to her was so overwhelming, she probably forgot all about it.” Dalton had already told them about Mr. Robbins.
“I wish we could have helped you, but I know God was at your side,” his mother said. “It’s hard to imagine why someone would end their life like that.”
“The man no doubt felt overwhelmed with the weight of all that had happened,” Father said as he joined them in the living room. “The past has a way of stealing the joy of the present.”
Dalton sighed and leaned back against the leather-upholstered chair his father had made. It was so good to be home. He longed for his bed and a long sleep.
“Were you able to get everything you had wanted to buy while in Seattle?” Zee asked.
“Yes, and then some.” He grinned. “Part of it won’t even be shipped up until later. But I brought the important things with me—like presents for all of you.”
His mother laughed. “It’s very nearly your birthday. You’re the one who deserves the presents.”
“I have arranged my own special gift,” Dalton replied. “I proposed to Phoebe and she accepted. The timing was less than perfect, but I wanted to reassure her mother that I would take care of her and the boys, as well.”
His parents exchanged a glance. “That was an admirable thing to do, son,” his father said.
“I figure I’m carrying on a tradition in a sense,” Dalton said. “You took on me and Mother, as well as Evie and Aunt Zee. I figure it’s the least I can do for the woman I love.”
His father leaned back against the fireplace mantel. “It’s a big responsibility.”
“When will you marry?” Mother asked, wiping a tear from her eye.
“Very soon. Within the week, if possible. I think it’s important that we do this and offer the family as much security as we can.”
“Where will you live?” Evie asked.
“Well, I think the best thing will be to build a new house.” He looked to his father. “I was hoping you would be available.”
“As if I would let anyone else help you,” Kjell said, laughing. “In fact, while you were gone, I managed to secure a piece of property not far from here. It’s a nice harbor location where I thought you might want to have your boatbuilding shop. It’s definitely large enough for a house, as well.”
Dalton grinned. “When can I see it?”
“How about tomorrow after church?”
He nodded. “Of course, it will be hard to put much together over the winter. I guess in the meanwhile, we’ll probably rent something small in town. Her mother will want Phoebe close.”
“I can understand that. I’m glad though that you’ll be able to be off to yourselves at least for a little while,” his mother said thoughtfully. “It will be an important time for you and Phoebe to get to know each other.”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Evie interjected, “but Joshua and I are to be married on the seventh of December.”
Dalton laughed and reached over to give her a playful nudge.
“It’s about time. What took him so long to propose?”
Evie shrugged. “I guess he was just waiting for me to come give him a good push.”
“Well, sister, I couldn’t be happier for you.” He couldn’t help but think back on the pain and misery she’d suffered. No one deserved a happy marriage more than Evie.
His father stretched. “It’s getting late, and we have church in the morning,” He went to where Lydia was sitting and without so much as a grunt, swept her into his arms and headed for the stairs. “Now I’ll have you all to myself.”
Dalton heard his mother giggle and smiled at Evie and Zee. “I hope I’m just as romantic at their age.”
Evie nodded. “I know I plan to be.”
Phoebe sat on her bed, staring out into the darkness. Her father was dead. She had never admitted it to her mother, but Phoebe had feared her father might never return for them. Her initial worry was that he was running away from them—that he would leave for California and never send for them to join him. She wasn’t even sure why she’d feared that. He’d never been the kind of man to leave his family to do for themselves.
“But he’s done exactly that now,” she whispered.
She hugged her knees to her chest and fought back tears. How could he be gone? How could such a thing have happened? Surely he knew the pain it would cause. His letter to her said as much. A wave of anger coursed through her. How could he have been so inconsiderate—so selfish? Her mother was inconsolable, and the boys . . . well, they were confused and grief-stricken.
“It wasn’t right,” she said, shaking her head. “What you did to us wasn’t right.”
Bowing her head, Phoebe tried to pray, but the words would not come. How should she even address the matter? Wasn’t suicide a sin? Had her father lost his place in eternity because of his weakness? Surely God wasn’t like that. God, above everyone, knew the pain and weight of the burden her father carried.
Her sigh echoed in the silent room. What would happen now? She knew she would marry Dalton, but beyond that her future seemed obscured. It seemed her family—her very life—was in pieces and she might never be able to gather them together again. Phoebe had never felt so alone.
“Oh, Dalton. I wish you were here now. I wish we were already married.” She straightened and slumped back against her pillow. Pulling the covers around her body, Phoebe let her tears flow freely.
“Papa,” she breathed, “I will miss you so.”
Chapter 23
Phoebe looked down at her cream-colored suit. The dark brown embroidery work gave it a more festive look, but still it was quite simple. The
lines of the piece had been designed for ease of travel and comfortable walking. She doubted the designer had ever intended it to be a wedding dress.
She glanced at the clock. In less than fifteen minutes, she would be Mrs. Dalton Lindquist. It all seemed like a dream. They had spent much of the past week together, even managing to find a tiny apartment above one of the stores. It wasn’t much, but as Dalton explained to her, they didn’t need it to be. Come spring, they would have a new home of their own—one large enough for her entire family.
“Are you ready?” her mother asked.
“I suppose I am.” Phoebe looked up and smiled. “It’s not exactly how I envisioned my wedding day, but in all honesty, it doesn’t even matter. I’m marrying a man I love, and though Father isn’t here to share the moment with us, I am happy.”
Her mother nodded and reached for her daughter’s arm. “He is a good man. His concern for our family is more than anyone could ever expect.” Her mother’s voice seemed to weaken. “I wish this day could have been different for you. I never imagined that your father wouldn’t be here to give you away. I miss him so.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Phoebe took hold of her mother’s hand. “Don’t be. I know how very much you loved Father. I wish he had not . . . had not . . . gone away. I hope you know I will always be here for you. My marriage to Dalton will not change that.”
Her mother smiled sadly. “I know, but I also want you to have a life of your own. Your wedding should be a day of happiness and joy, focused completely on you and your husband. I don’t want you to give this another thought. Not now.” She squeezed Phoebe’s hand. “There will be plenty of time for mourning after today.”
Phoebe nodded. She followed her mother from the small room and into the sanctuary. She noticed the small gathering of people. Most were Dalton’s family and friends. The governor and his wife, however, had managed to attend, as had a few of her father’s other associates. Phoebe saw her brothers at the front, standing with Dalton. They seemed unhappy and out of place.
Britta tugged on Phoebe’s skirt. “Are you ready?”
[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain Page 21