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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: Dawn's Prelude
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“My aunt suggests a bit of peppermint will help.”

Lydia took the offering and put it in her mouth, anxious to try anything that might settle her stomach. Almost immediately the candy seemed to help. She drew a deep breath and eased back against the seat, hugging the violin case close for comfort. The journey was nearly over. Soon she would see Zerelda, and all would be well.

Forcing her mind to focus on the happiness she hoped to find in Sitka, Lydia gazed up at the mountains. The snowy peaks were majestic, washed in sunshine that seemed to drift down the mountainside, illuminating thick forests of spruce and fir. It was every bit as lovely as Zerelda had described.

Tiny green islets dotted the water around the harbor as they approached the small wharf. Some of the islands actually appeared to have people living on them. Lydia wondered what it might be like to live isolated from everyone else, and then realized that in many ways, that was exactly what life in Sitka would be like for her.

Lydia couldn’t help but wonder where Zerelda lived. Her aunt had described the property and her cabin on Baranof Island, but Lydia had no idea how to find her. She could only hope that someone would know Zerelda and be able to point the way.

The men tied off the small launch, then went to work helping the women onto the dock. Lydia felt a wave of nausea wash over her again. She would be so glad to be off the water. Apparently she wasn’t well suited to ocean travel. Not that she planned to depart Sitka any time soon. She was determined to stay even if she hated the isolation and primitive ways.

“Careful, ma’am, the dockboards are uneven,” a grizzled seaman announced, handing Lydia her bag. She nodded, fighting to get even footing.

“You’ll probably not have your land legs yet . . . I mean limbs.” The man flushed red and turned away.

Lydia was glad that he went off to help Lady Franklin. She didn’t want to stand around waiting. With a cautious step forward, Lydia marveled at how weak she felt. Her legs acted like rubber sticks, not fully willing to support her weight. She longed to sit down, but there was nothing available until the end of the wharf.

People bustled around the docks. Most were men either coming off small fishing boats or preparing to head out. Some threw her an appreciative glance but remained focused on their work. Lydia tried to keep her eye on the rough-hewn bench at the end of the wharf. If she could just make it there, she could rest.

She forced herself to watch the men work at their various tasks in order to keep her mind off of being sick. She marveled at the way young men jumped on and off the tethered fishing boats. Ahead on the dock, there were several freighters loading supplies. They seemed to have little trouble at all with the massive crates. Their arms bulged muscle, yet their expressions remained relaxed, as if they carried nothing more than a baby.

Taking another step, dizziness blurred Lydia’s vision. She struggled with her bag a moment, then put it down, lest she drop her violin. Reaching to take hold of something to steady herself, Lydia realized there was nothing. She closed her eyes, hoping the world would right itself.

“Are you all right?”

Lydia opened her eyes again. She saw a tall, blond-haired man at her side, but when she tried to answer him words would not come. Blackness overtook her as warm arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Kjell Lindquist stared in dumbfounded silence at the woman in his arms. He had come to the docks to check on the new saw blade he was expecting, and now . . . this. He shifted the young woman’s weight and lifted her. Looking around, Kjell couldn’t help but wonder what he should do. His wagon was at the edge of the road. Maybe he could take her to the hospital.

“Looks like you’ve hauled in a good catch,” Briney Roberts called from his boat, the
Merry Maid
.

“She just fell into my arms out of nowhere.”

Briney laughed. “Well, weren’t you just saying the other day that if the good Lord had a wife for you, He’d have to drop her into your arms?”

Kjell nearly let go of the woman. He
had
said just that. Pushing aside the thought, he decided it was just coincidence and not providence. The young woman moaned, and Kjell couldn’t help but look at her. Her skin was so pale, yet she was quite lovely. She reminded him of a fine china doll.

Looking at the stranger with a mix of amazement and concern, Kjell felt strangely at peace holding her. There was something about the dark-haired beauty that intrigued him. The woman started to stir. What would he say to her? How could he help her?

Black lashes fluttered open to reveal dark brown eyes. At first, the woman said nothing; she was clearly stunned. Kjell smiled, hoping to assuage any fears she might have.

“Hello,” he said softly. “I believe you fainted.”

“I suppose I did.” She put her hand to her head. “I don’t travel well on the water.”

Kjell gave a chuckle. “You aren’t alone. Many folks have a hard time.” He thought she might ask him to put her down, but when she didn’t, he started walking toward his carriage. “My name is Kjell. Kjell Lindquist.”

“Chell?
What kind of name is that?”

“It’s Swedish. Doesn’t look a thing like it sounds.”

She closed her eyes and reopened them as if trying to focus. Kjell thought she might faint again, but instead she said, “My name is Lydia Gray.”

“I have my wagon here. Can I drive you someplace?” he offered.

“I don’t know. I don’t know where I’m going.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m bettin’ you’d rather it be someplace other than the dock.”

She nodded. “My aunt lives here, but I don’t know where.”

“What’s her name? I know just about everyone. Sitka isn’t that big, you know.” He reached the wagon and stepped up with Lydia held tightly in his arms.
She hardly weighs anything
, he thought, depositing her on the seat. He sat down beside her. “So do you know your aunt’s name?”

“Of course I do. It’s Zerelda Rockford.”

“Oh, Zee. Of course I know her. Wonderful woman—great friend to everyone she meets. Everyone loves her. She lives down a ways on the Saberhagen property.”

Nodding, the small woman smiled. “Yes, that’s her. She worked for Mr. Saberhagen and his wife. You call her Zee? How unusual.”

“She started it. Some of the Tlingit children had trouble saying her name, so she shortened it to Zee.”

Lydia suddenly turned and pointed. “My bag! My violin.” She started to climb down from the wagon, but Kjell stopped her.

“I’ll get them. Sorry, I didn’t see them.” He bounded out of the wagon and back down toward the dock, where a heavy carpetbag and violin case awaited retrieval.

When everything was secured, Kjell took up the reins and urged the matched draft horses forward. “Get along now, boys.” They headed south along Sitka’s main road, pulling the load in their effortless manner. They seemed to instinctively know where their master wanted them to go, which allowed Kjell time to consider the woman at his side. What in the world had brought her to Alaska? She hardly looked prepared for life in the small island community—she wasn’t even wearing sturdy boots.

“I want to thank you for helping me back there. I’ve not felt well since leaving San Francisco.” She straightened a little but remained pale. “I had thought maybe Zerelda would be there to meet me, but I realized too late that my last letter to her likely hadn’t preceded me.”

“It’s probably on the same ship that brought you,” Kjell said. “Zee won’t care, though. She’ll be so happy to see you it won’t matter.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Lydia asked. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Don’t be so sure about that. I’ve heard Zee talk quite a bit about her one and only niece. She thinks of you as a sort of daughter.” Kjell could see that Lydia was not bearing well with the bouncing wagon. “Why don’t you stop trying to impress me with your ladylike posture and lean against me? You’re sick, and there’s no reason to be ashamed of it.”

To Kjell’s surprise, she didn’t fight him on the idea. Nodding, she slouched against him. “I am sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. Truth be told, I’m the sorry one. Sorry that the roads aren’t better and that the wagon springs are so bad.”

Lydia looked up at him and shook her head. “What will your wife think when word gets back to her that you were seen like. . . like this?”

“I’m not married, so I don’t anticipate a problem,” he said with a wink. “I hope there won’t be any jealous husbands hunting me down.”

The woman blushed and lowered her gaze. “No, I’m a widow.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, not knowing what else to say.

“Don’t be,” Lydia replied without even pausing for breath.

This truly served to confuse Kjell. There was a bitter hatred edging the woman’s words. She must have lived a pretty awful life if she could say such a thing. Maybe someday she would tell him more about it.

“I bought supplies in San Francisco. I’m afraid there is quite a bit. I wasn’t at all sure what would be useful to Zerelda. Might I hire your services, Mr. Lindquist, to bring them to Zerelda’s place once they are unloaded from the
Newbern
?

“I’d be happy to help, but there’s no need to offer me pay. Folks up here help each other without it. We have to help one another, you know.”

“My aunt has often said as much.” She closed her eyes and sighed.

The wheels sank into a deep hole, bouncing the wagon hard. Lydia sprang up as if she intended to jump. She didn’t reach for Kjell, but he put out his arm to keep her in place.

“Sorry. We do the best we can,” he told her.

Lydia nodded and remained rigid in her seat. She stole a glance at him, and Kjell couldn’t help but return her gaze.
My, but she
sure is pretty,
he thought.
Like a spring blossom.
He had to admit he wasn’t in the least bit sorry that he’d been the one to catch her.

With no reserve strength, Lydia let herself lean on Kjell once again. It went totally against her better judgment, but she couldn’t help herself. Men had caused her nothing but pain and misery— always betraying her trust. Still, despite her misgivings, she felt at ease with this man.

How strange. I’ve never felt comfortable with any man, and now
this total stranger leaves me without concern. It’s almost as if I’ve
known him a lifetime.

Paying little attention to the surroundings, Lydia felt her stomach lurch. She was going to be sick again. “Oh, please stop.”

Kjell reined back on the horses just as Lydia leaned over the side of the wagon. Her abdominal muscles churned violently, bringing up what little was left in her stomach. To her embarrassment, she felt Kjell’s arms slip around her—steadying her as she continued to be sick. She waited for the misery to end and then drew a deep breath.

“I’m afraid there’s no ladylike way to do this. I’m sorry,” she said in a tone that came out more whimper than anything.

“Don’t be on my account,” Kjell said, pulling her gently back toward him. “Lots of folks get seasick. I had a friend who didn’t stop feeling the rocking of the waves for weeks.”

“I hope that won’t be my case,” she said, shaking her head weakly. “I don’t think I could live that long in this state.”

“I’ll pray it passes much quicker for you,” Kjell stated softly. She didn’t argue with him. If there was even a remote possibility that God truly cared, she would welcome any help in overcoming this sickness.

“Do you feel good enough for us to go on?” he asked. “Your aunt’s place is just up the hillside over there.”

Lydia nodded and tried to see the cabin she would soon call home. It looked quite small. What if it was too small? What if Zerelda had no desire for her to stay there?

“Are there other places to rent?” Lydia asked. “I mean, if my aunt can’t have me.”

He chuckled. “You’d be hard-pressed to get away from Zerelda once she sees you. Besides, there aren’t any places available.”

“It’s just that I hate to impose myself upon her. She might not have the room.”

“My guess is she’ll make the space if she doesn’t have it,” Kjell replied. “But don’t worry about it. If she won’t have you, there are dozens of men in town who would seek your hand in marriage before the sun goes down. Zerelda gets asked at least ten times a day, I’m sure.”

“That may be. However, they would ask in vain where I’m concerned. I don’t intend to ever marry again.”

Kjell surprised her by shaking his head. “That husband of yours must have really hurt you.”

Lydia met his gaze. “You have no idea.”

Chapter 7

K
jell helped Lydia to the cabin door and knocked. “Zee? You in there?”

A slender woman opened the door. “Kjell, what brings you here?” Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the woman at his side. “Liddie? Is that you?”

“It’s me,” she replied in a weak voice.

“She’s not in good shape. Been sick all the way up.” As if on cue, Lydia’s strength gave out, and Kjell caught her as she started to sink. He lifted her into his arms again. “I think she’d better lie down.”

“I’m so sorry to be a bother,” Lydia interjected while Zerelda and Kjell took over.

“Bah, you aren’t a bother. Here, Kjell, bring her right in,” the woman declared. “I got the letter you sent about your father and husband dying. I knew you wanted to come north but didn’t figure to see you so soon. I thought you’d still be laying plans for the trip.”

Lydia studied her aunt. She was different than she remembered. At forty-five, Zerelda Rockford was a most unconventional woman. She had given her hair a blunt cut at the shoulder, and it gave her face an angular appearance.

“Here, she can have this room,” Zerelda said, opening the door.

Kjell followed her in and deposited Lydia on the bed. “Is there anything I can do to help you out? You need wood brought in, Zee?”

“That would be good. You can build up the fire, too. The day has a chill, and we need to keep Liddie warm.”

“I’m really not helpless,” Lydia said when her aunt began unbuttoning her suit jacket.

“You look pretty bad off. Your eyes are sunken. I’d say your fluids are depleted, and you probably haven’t had a decent bit of food in a while,” Zerelda said. She smiled down at her niece. “You look just as you did as a girl. I can’t believe so much time has passed.”

BOOK: Dawn's Prelude
5.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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