"Dawns Prelude" - читать интересную книгу автора (Peterson Tracie)

Chapter 21

Kjell awoke slowly to find that Lydia was still unconscious. The doctor had done everything possible and had put her to bed in one of the hospital's empty wards, with Zerelda only a few beds away. Kjell had spent the night sleeping in the chair beside his wife, praying whenever he awoke that God would somehow set things right.

He reached over to gently stroke her hair. "Good morning, my darling." He was comforted that she continued to breathe steadily. The doctor had not held much hope for her recovery. Frankly, he hadn't thought she would make it through the night, but here she was.

Taking hold of her cold hand, Kjell rubbed it lightly. "Gee's doing very well. Her injuries weren't too had. She was knocked unconscious for a time, but the doctor said she will recover. She's sleeping just across the room." He kept his voice low so as not to wake Zerelda. He glanced over to see that she was undisturbed before continuing.

"It's been a long night." He realized that the sun had already risen and reached for his watch. He had enough light to see that it was nearly eight. He should have already been at work. The army lumber order was expected today.

He needed to get word to Joshua at the mill. The poor man wouldn't have a clue as to why Kjell wasn't there. Getting to his feet, Kjell stretched and found his neck and hack ached from his long hours in the chair. Dr. Ensign said he could take one of the empty beds, but Kjell had been afraid to leave Lydia 's side. If she had called out, he might not have heard her.

Motioning for the orderly to come, Kjell explained the situation. "I need to get word to Joshua Broadstreet at the sawmill. Can someone take a message?"

"I'll see if I can arrange it," the man said. He left without another word just as Zerelda stirred and sat up.

"How is she?"

Kjell went to Zee and shook his head. "I don't know. She hasn't so much as moved all night. She's still breathing, though."

Zerelda reached up to touch her bandaged head. "Whoever he was, he sure gave me a wallop."

Just then, the orderly returned with a blue-uniformed private at his side. The man nodded rather formally to Kjell. "Captain said I was to make myself available to you," the young man declared. "He also said he wants to talk to you when you are able."

"Thank you. I need to get a message to Joshua Broadstreet at Lindquist Mill. Tell him my wife and her aunt were injured last night, and we're here. Tell him to come see me as soon as he can for instructions."

"Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?"

"Please tell the captain he can join us here."

"Yes, sir."

The young private pivoted and all but marched out of the room. Kjcll turned back to Lydia, where the orderly was checking her dressings. He left Zee momentarily and went to his wife.

"How does it look?"

The bleeding has stopped. That's good. She's lost a great deal of blood, and there's no telling if her body can withstand the shock. Hopefully, infection won't set in, but only time will tell."

Kjcll nodded. "The odds are against us, aren't they?"

"It doesn't look good." He redressed the wounds. "I need to report to Dr. Ensign."

"She's in God's hands, Kjell. We have to trust Him."

Surprised to find Zerelda by his side, Kjell turned to face her. "I can't lose her. I just can't, Zee."

She put her arm around his shoulder. "God is still the one to make those decisions. We have to trust that He knows what He's doing. Come over here with me for a moment."

Kjcll let her lead him to the far end of the room. Zerelda's expression grew quite serious. "What of Dalton, Kjell?"

"My guess is that Marston Gray instigated that attack and kidnapping. It's what I told the authorities last night and still what I believe. I wouldn't be surprised if the Sidorovs had something to do with it, as well. I learned not long ago that they were probably the ones behind the fire at the mill."

Zerelda frowned and glanced over to Lydia 's bed. "We can't talk about Dalton in front of her. Even as she is, she might hear something. If she realizes the baby is gone, she might give up hope."

"Mr. Lindquist?

He turned to find the same army captain he'd talked to the night before. "Is there any news?"

"Nothing yet. We need to talk further with Miss Rockford if she's up to it."

"I am," Zerelda replied. "I'm happy to help in any way I can. I'm just afraid my memory isn't much better than it was last night."

"That's all right, ma'am. Why don't we sit so you can rest?" the captain suggested.

Zcrelda made her way back to the bed and sat. Kjell pulled up two chairs and offered the captain a seat. He hadn't heard anything Zee had told the man before, and he hoped that she might shed some light on the attackers. It was apparent the captain wanted the same.

The soldier leaned forward. "I wonder if you could further describe the man who hit you. His size, hair color, clothes-anything at all would help."

"Well, I do remember the one that entered the house first. He was a good bit taller than me-maybe a whole foot. He had blond hair-not real pale, more the color of cornstalks." She paused for a moment. "Oh, he spoke with a thick Russian accent."

"Anatolli Sidorov," Kjell muttered.

"What is that?" the captain questioned.

"Shejust described Anatolli Sidorov. His brother is a hit smaller and his hair is darker-more of a brownish gold."

"loo you know this Anatolli, ma'am?"

Zcrelda shook her head. "I've never met him or his brother."

But you would know him if you saw him again?"

Kjcll looked to Zerelda and awaited her answer. He was confident that the men responsible for the attack were the Sidorovs. He should have turned them over to the authorities when he caught them stealing from him.

"I think I would," Zerelda replied. "I never got a good look at the second man. Or if I did, it's all lost to me now. When the first man headed upstairs to find the baby, I tried to go after him. That's when the second man hit me from behind. I don't remember anything after that until Kjell woke me up." She cast Kjell a sympathetic glance. "I'm sorry."

"It's enough, Zee. I'm positive it was the Sidorovs. They were the only ones who had anything against us. They were also paid to burn the mill."

"Boss? You sent for me?"

Kjell looked up to find Joshua standing in the doorway to the ward. "Come in. I did send for you, but right now I need you to tell the captain here everything you heard about the Sidorovs being paid to burn the mill."

Seeing that the doctor had also arrived, Kjell dismissed himself and went to discuss Lydia 's condition, but the doctor waved him away until he could finish examining her. After what seemed an eternity, he finally came to where Kjell stood.

"It's not good," he said, shaking his head. "She's incredibly weak and nearly unresponsive. There isn't any fight in her at all."

A quick glance at Lydia 's pale, lifeless face left little doubt in Kjell's mind that the doctor was right. If she had been conscious when the Sidorovs took Dalton, she would have known it was Marston Gray's doing. And knowing how he and his family had bullied her in the past, Lydia probably knew there was little chance of fighting him. She would believe Dalton was lost to her forever.

"We have to find the baby," Kjell whispered. "That is the only hope we have of urging her to fight this."

"Perhaps if you talk to her about how needed she is," Dr. Ensign said. "Don't say anything about the baby being gone."

"Zee was just suggesting that, as well. I'll do what I can." He met the doctor's worried expression. "Please do anything necessary to save her. No matter the cost."

Dr. Ensign touched his shoulder. "Kjell, be assured we are doing everything humanly possible. We have our limitations here-we aren't a big city with a fancy hospital and surgery. Still, we have skilled individuals who know what they're doing. We will fight to restore her to you."

Thomas Gadston grinned as he held out a large stack of bills to Trayton Payne. "I presume you were successful last night. When I returned, Genevieve was nowhere in sight."

Trayton nodded and took the money. "I was. I seduced her, and she was eager to comply."

"How rich," Gadston said. "This is probably the best return for my money in ages. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner."

Pocketing the money, Trayton shrugged. "I can't say that I understand, but I'm happy to help."

"I don't expect you to understand. It really isn't anyone's concern why I choose to do business the way I do. Suffice it to say I have no patience for this game of marriage. I never intended to take a wife. I married only for the purposes of making better business dealings. Unfortunately, those were lost to me when Gray had the misfortune of dying. Genevieve is unimportant to me now."

"So why not divorce her? Charge her with infidelity and he done with her."

Gadston's expression darkened. "My family would never stand for it. Divorce would cause a scandal, and I would he cut off from inheriting. There is far too much money at risk to merely walk away from my marriage. I will let the child have her interests, and I will have mine."

"And you've told her this?" Trayton asked in surprise. Most men would never tolerate their wives taking lovers, while Gadston seemed to encourage it.

Gadston laughed. "Certainly not. Half the fun will he watching her sneak around and try to avoid giving me any reason to believe she's having an affair. Her guilt will be amusing-especially if you should happen to get her with child."

"Excuse me?"

The shock of such a statement had Trayton doubting he had heard accurately. He watched Gadston for any sign of teasing, but there was none. Instead, the man crossed to his desk and took a scat. "We can discuss it at another time. Right now, I have work that needs my attention. You do, as well. Here are the figures that you need to take to Mr. McCarthy regarding the planned railroad."

Trayton took up the ledger being offered and held it for a moment. He felt confused by Gadston's comment and wanted to clarify the matter. Instead, the older man seemed unconcerned.

"Do what you can to keep her happy," Gadston said, as if reading the younger man's mind. "Do so, and I will increase your salary substantially."

Trayton Payne left the Gadston mansion and barely felt the pelting ice as he made his way to the enclosed carriage. He gave the driver the address and sat hack to think on all that had just happened. He had always considered himself rather phlegmatic when it came to the eccentric ways of the rich. Rarely did any request or situation shock him. Still, he'd not witnessed any man being so nonchalant when it came to giving his wife over to another.

Still, it was a means to an end. Trayton intended to be one of those eccentric rich in his own right. He had long ago vowed that he would do whatever he needed to in order to earn the money that would allow him to rise to the top of society Power and money were the most important things to him, and he intended to surround himself with plenty of both. If that meant he fathered a few children along the way in order to make a rich old man happy, then so he it.

He grinned and folded his gloved hands behind his head. "And Evie Gadston is definitely not hard on the eyes."

Evie had watched from her bedroom window as Trayton Payne left her house. She felt consumed with guilt. She had allowed him to take her from the parry-to take her away from everyone else.

You allowed him to do more than that," she admonished as she sat down to her vanity mirror. Picking up a brush, she stroked hard through the mass of golden curls. She could still remember allowing him to hold her. He had kissed her, too. Not just the quick, obligatory pecks that she'd had from Thomas. When Trayton's mouth had touched hers, she had forgotten everything except the man in her arms.

She met her reflection and frown. It was wrong, and it cannot happen again."

But why not? Society certainly didn't look down on men taking lovers, so why should they he so hard on wives wanting the same benefit? Who was to know, as long as she was discreet?

If only Thomas would show her the slightest hit of love, it would change everything. Evie hadn't wanted to marry the man, but she had gone into the arrangement determined to be a good and faithful wife. Especially a faithful wife. But after nearly a year of not-so-wedded bliss, Evie was desperate to feel something other than lethargy. She had gone to Europe, hoping to stimulate her mind and heart. There had been museums and galleries to visit and wonderful parties where the latest fashions and foods had been presented to titillate the eye and tongue. She had spent copious amounts of money doing whatever pleased her, but nothing satisfied. What was missing?

Last night, Trayton Payne had given her insight into that question. Better yet, he'd given her an understanding of the answer. She couldn't replace her heart's longing for love by purchasing baubles. Trayton had awakened a hunger in her that she had managed to stave off until now.

"What am I to do?" she asked her reflection.

The last thing she wanted was to bring disgrace to her name or to her family. They had done a good enough job of that on their own, and she had no desire to add to it. Thomas was respected by his peers and society. If she were to cause him harm in such a way as to make him a laughingstock among that haughty group, it would certainly not bode well.

She put down the brush and continued to stare at her reflection. For a moment, she could see herself growing old and wrinkled. An image of her mother came to mind. Charlotte Cray hadn't been an old woman when she'd died, but the years had marked her face.

Even though Evie had been quite young, she'd sensed her mother's unhappiness. Then that awful day had come when her mother had fallen to her death. Evie wanted to tell everyone what had really happened, but she had been too afraid. Afraid that her father would throw her from the same rooftop. Afraid no one would believe her anyway. Maybe her memories were wrong.

"My life has been lived in fear," she said, shaking her head. She had even married in fear. Had she done anything to disturb the arrangement her father had made, Evie knew she would have suffered greatly for it. Her father had ways of making people suffer. Hadn't she learned that lesson from her mother and from Lydia '

Her anger resurfaced. "Why should I let them do this to me? Why should I care what anyone else says or does?"

She thought again of Trayton, and her guilt faded a bit. She had only kissed him. Nothing else had happened. He had been sweet to her. He had made her feel beautiful alive. What was wrong with that? What damage could possibly come from a few kisses?