Lined With Silver

LINED
WITH SILVER

Lined with Silver: an LDS Novel

Copyright © 2014

Roseanne Evans Wilkins

Published by Roseanne Evans Wilkins at
Smashwords

Cover Design by Create Space

Cover Photograph by BigStock

All characters appearing in this work are
fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.

No statements or implications are meant to
convey the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints. Any doctrinal questions regarding infertility, IVF, or
surrogacy should be directed to your local leaders.

All rights reserved.

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to Mike and Brenda

and Lucille May Myrup Wilkins

Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud

Turn forth her silver lining on the
night?

John Milton

Zachory Lee Carlson’s dark hair was almost
blue in the burning sun. A battered felt hat sat on the rocky
ground next to his denim-clad knee. The hat was one his grandfather
had used on his ranch. It still served its original purpose, but
Zack was more interested in soaking up the sun than fending it
off.

He sat on the side of the hill, waiting while
the Young Women took their turn at pushing the cart up the slope.
It was a stake re-enactment of the Mormon handcart trials. Through
death or illness or other reasons, many Mormon women had been left
to fend for themselves. The Women’s Pull allowed the Young Women to
experience for themselves what it would feel like to handle the
carts alone.

Zack kicked at a clump of dirt to distract
himself. It wasn’t easy to watch the Young Women struggle.

The little Beehive in his trek family, Sondra
Lytle, seemed to be having a particularly difficult time. Her long
reddish-blond hair flowed over her back as it spilled out of her
sun bonnet. The hat hid the freckles he’d seen liberally painted on
her face.

She tripped as the cart ran over a rock. Her
trembling lip valiantly tried to hide her pain, but the blood
running down her momentarily-exposed leg meant the injury was
serious. Zack sprinted for his trek sister, pulling out the small
first aid kit he had kept in his satchel as he ran.

“Are you alright?” Zack asked as he pulled
out cleansing wipes. The adults hadn’t seemed to see the small
Beehive, but Zack had noticed the moment she fell. He had felt an
immediate bond when he’d first met her. He could almost feel the
pain of her injury as she pulled up her long skirts to reveal the
slash on her knee.

She nodded, biting her lip against her pain.
He bent over her injured leg and gently washed the blood off,
relieved to see the cut. It didn’t need stitches. He applied the
antibiotic to the bandage and then carefully covered her wound.
“Feel better?”

She nodded again, her gray eyes swimming in
tears. “Thanks.” She managed a small smile and then turned back to
her task. The handcart hadn’t quite made it up the rise, and she
was determined to do her part.

Zack watched as he re-packed the first aid
kit. He ached to join her in pushing the cart. “Tough kid,” he
muttered and then re-joined the group of Young Men on the hill.

“Sondra, you know I wouldn’t ask this, but
I’m out of options.” Nikki moved her hand up to sweep her blond
hair over her shoulder. She stood, tense, all 5’4” looking
professional and immaculate.

Sondra recognized the small sign of Nikki’s
discomfort. She raised darkened eyebrows in a silent query, then
said, “You’re sounding serious. What’s up?”

“Well, you know we’ve spent a fortune on
infertility treatments.” Nikki’s gray eyes were intense.

Sondra nodded, her long reddish-blond hair
pulled back in a formal style suitable for a successful attorney in
the Andrews Law Firm. “I know you have. I’m so sorry nothing has
worked for you.”

Nikki bit her lip, her indecision clear.
Several emotions crossed her face, the final one of sorrow settling
firmly. “You can say no. Don’t feel any pressure.”

When her sister talked like that, nothing
good ever came out of it. How many times had Sondra ever said “no”
to her older sister? She couldn’t recall a single one.

“This sounds big.” Sondra took a deep breath,
pushed back her chair, and stood up. “Go ahead.”

“The infertility doctor said the embryo might
survive in a different…” Nikki gulped, “mother.”

Sondra stared, her mouth open. She snapped
her mouth shut and then managed, “Wow. Just. Wow.”

Nikki’s hand covered her mouth and a look of
horror passed over her face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said a
word. It’s not your place to fix…” her voice dropped to a
barely-audible whisper, “what I can’t have.”

“I’m sorry, Nikki. I just can’t. You know I’d
do anything for you, but this? I can’t.” Sondra’s own childless
state had never loomed so large. She wanted children, sure. A
family of her own. Marriage just hadn’t come. And giving her sister
a child when she had no prospects? How could Nikki ask something
like that? But then, this was Nikki. She was desperate. Sondra knew
it. “There are women who do this—”

“For a fee. Starting at $30,000. Our
insurance will cover expenses for a pregnancy, but it won’t cover
the cost of a surrogate. We just don’t have that kind of money, not
with all the cancer expenses, and we wanted the baby
before…before…” Nikki’s lip trembled, and tears trickled down her
cheeks.

Tears of her own surfaced. Sondra couldn’t
bring herself to hug Nikki, who had crumpled into one of the guest
chairs. Sondra stalked out of her office.

Her administrative assistant, Cari, looked up
from her computer, a question large in her eyes. It was a question
that would go unanswered. Sondra needed some time alone.

She climbed into her dark blue sedan. It
matched her life. Secure. Safe. Not flashy. Suddenly, she wished
she’d bought the bright red convertible which had called from
across the lot a couple of years before.

She sighed and turned out onto the street. As
she drove, she realized there was a place on her bucket list she
hadn’t yet seen. And if the airline cooperated, she could make a
four-day trip out of it. She reached for her cell phone. “Cari,
could you cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day? I’ll
be back on Monday.”

“Did you want to cancel the appointment with
Mr. Wellingford?”

Sondra stifled a groan. Of course she did.
Especially him. “Yes. Please reschedule for Monday.”

“But he’s been trying to see you all
week.”

“It can wait.” Sondra wouldn’t allow guilt to
change her mind. He was a client who demanded her every waking
moment.

A trip to Washington, DC, had been on her
wish list since she was in Jr. High. What better time than now? She
needed to put things into perspective. She needed to think.

Tears coursed down her face. This was so
unfair! Why would Nikki throw this at her? She thought back over
the years and realized this had been coming for some time. Nikki
wouldn’t have asked if she had other options.

Her husband, Brad, was dying of cancer.
They’d frozen several embryos before his chemotherapy. Nikki had
already been through three miscarriages a couple of months into the
pregnancy.

Adoption was out of the question. No agency
would place a child where one of the parents was terminal. And,
apparently, a different surrogate was out of the question, too.

If Sondra remembered right, Nikki and Brad
had only created a dozen embryos. Nikki was running out, and Sondra
knew her desire for a child was intense.

Searing pain shot through her heart. She was
all that stood between her sister and the child she so desperately
wanted. Could she really carry a baby for her?

She looked at her own life and wondered how
she could fulfill her duties as an attorney while she waddled
through a pregnancy. She couldn’t remember seeing another lawyer
testifying in court several months pregnant. Maybe law firms kept
their pregnant lawyers sequestered. The vision of herself standing
in court with a full belly made her shudder.

And would her clients decide she wasn’t
worthy to be their attorney? They all knew she was single. Even in
this day and age, many of her clients expected her to behave
“properly.” There hadn’t been any question in the past. With her
dating life, there was no danger of misbehavior. Most of her
clients were LDS. They knew the standards of the Church as well as
she did.

Would they drop her services if she was a
single mother? It wasn’t something she’d feel comfortable
explaining. Many of her long-standing clients were like Mr.
Wellingford. They’d grown up in a different age. She doubted they’d
understand. She wrinkled her nose as she imagined the reprimand Mr.
Wellingford was sure to give. But he’d been using the services of
the firm for longer than she’d been living. Surely, he wouldn’t
pull his lucrative business.

Sondra parked in the long-term parking at the
Salt Lake Airport. The icy wind bit at her as she stood in the
shelter waiting for the shuttle. The only other person waiting was
texting. He barely looked up as he stepped in the shuttle and
settled on one of the plastic seats.

Sondra rubbed frozen hands together and
wished she’d remembered gloves. The long black wool coat she wore
was adequate coverage on a normal winter day. This wind carried an
arctic chill that seeped into her bones. The plastic seat didn’t
help. It felt like it was immersed in ice. She perched at the edge
and stared out the window. She hoped she could find a seat to DC.
If she remembered right, there were two direct flights every
day.

As she entered the terminal, warm air flowed
past, rushing air not entirely stopped by the environmental airflow
dividing the cold outside air and the warm inside air. She flexed
thawing fingers as she stepped to the service desk.

“I’d like a flight to DC. Are there any seats
left?”

The clerk pulled up a screen. “There are
five. Four.” She corrected herself. “Three are center seats. The
aisle seat is near the lavatory.”

“I’ll take the aisle seat.”

The clerk didn’t look up as she asked,
“Luggage?”

“No. Carry on only.”

Sondra paid for the seat and headed toward
security.

A seat close to the restroom might not be
a bad thing
, she thought, and shuddered at the memory of her
last trip. That flight had been to Texas. It had been a rough
flight. The weather today wasn’t any better than it had been
then.

Without any luggage to check, she rushed
through security and headed to the gate, stopping at a small shop.
She bought some Dramamine and a bottle of water. This trip wasn’t
going to turn out like the last one.

She could see the gate from the shop. The
9:55 am flight was already boarding. She rushed to join the end of
the line and worked her way to the back of the plane.

The gentleman with sleek dark, almost black
hair sitting in the seat next to her own seemed familiar. Sensing
her intense gaze, he looked up. His dark eyes echoed his hair. The
coloring of his skin and his strong jawline spoke of Native
American ancestry. His short sleek haircut matched the crisp suit
he wore, which enhanced his muscular build.

Embarrassed by her own bold appraisal, Sondra
dropped in her seat and stuffed her bag under the seat in front of
her. Where had she seen him before? His face was too familiar. Why
couldn’t she place him?

As she shuffled through her mental deck of
acquaintances at work, at school, at church, she half listened to
the boarding attendant discuss the floatable seats. She glanced out
of the window over the heads of the other passengers. Gray skies
released small flakes of snow. The day matched her mood.

This was the first time she’d taken an
unscheduled trip. The difference in ticket price was staggering,
but at this point, she didn’t care. She couldn’t think surrounded
by the pressures of the office coupled with Nikki’s request. As she
settled into her seat, the cabin heat thawed her frozen fingers.
Giving up on her mental search for the man seated next to her, she
reached for her ebook reader.