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

Chapter 8

Kjell couldn't keep his mind on his work. The sawmill business had picked up enough that he needed to implement new equipment and even hire some extra help, but today that still wasn't enough to hold his attention.

He looked at his ledgers, but it was Lydia Gray he found looking back at him. Her image was firmly etched in his memory. Her dark brown eyes betrayed pain and misery that he couldn't possibly know. Kjell wanted to offer her comfort, but Lydia seemed to have found her own ways to cope. She wanted no one to get too close. She even seemed to hold Zerelda at arm's length.

"Kjell, can we talk?"

A short, squat man stood in the doorway to Kjell's tiny office. He held his hat in his hand and wore a frown on his face that suggested this was not a visit of pleasantries.

"Of course." Kjell got to his feet and motioned the man in. "What's wrong, Arnie?"

The man fingered the edge of his hat nervously before looking up to meet Kjell's face. "I'm not happy about the increase in price."

Shaking his head, Kjell tried to remember what increase the man might he referencing. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Your men told me that the lumber I ordered would he an extra twenty-five dollars. That may not seem like much to you, but I'm just getting my business started. It doesn't seem fair that you should change the price now."

"But I didn't," Kjell protested. "What are you talking about?"

The man seemed to relax a bit when he saw that Kjell was siding with him. "Your men, the Sidorov brothers. They came to deliver part of the lumber and told me the price had been miscalculated. They said I would owe an extra fifty dollars, but only twenty-five if I paid in cash instead of on account."

"That's ridiculous. I didn't send them to tell you that. Hold on," Kjcll said, getting up from his desk. "I'll call them in here, and they can explain themselves."

He walked out to where his foreman, Joshua Broadstrcct, worked at adjusting the new saw blade. "Josh, I need to talk to you for a minute."

The younger man looked up. "What is it, boss?"

"Where are the Sidorovs?" Kjell surveyed the shop but saw nothing of the Russian brothers.

"Delivering another load to the military." Josh straightened and wiped his hands on a nearby rag. "Why?"

"What do you know about them asking Mr. Seymour for an additional fifty dollars?"

Josh frowned. "Nothing. I didn't know they had."

Kjell looked hack over his shoulders. "Don't say anything to them, but when they get hack, tell them to come sec me."

"Sure, boss."

"And, Josh?" The younger man waited expectantly. Kjell smiled. "You don't need to call me boss, remember?"

"Sorry. Force of habit. When I was working in the railroad shops in Seattle, it was required."

Kjell chuckled as he made his way back to the office. He liked the young man, who'd only come to work for him the month before. Josh showed great skill when it came to anything mechanical, and Kjell knew he'd be an asset for the sawmill. He sobered as he rejoined Arnie.

"The brothers aren't here right now, but that isn't important. Just know this. I haven't raised the price on you. Things stay as they arc."

The older man nodded with relief. "Thank you, Kjcll. The Sidorovs told me they would settle up with me tomorrow when they brought the last of the load, but I didn't want to wait until then."

"You were wise to come to me. I'll deal with them. I'm not sure what the misunderstanding was on their part, but I'll get to the bottom of it."

He shook hands with Arnie and returned to his seat. "If you have any more problems, just come directly to me."

The man nodded. "Thank you, Kjell."

Kjell waited for several minutes until he was sure Arnie had gone before he summoned Aakashook and Keegaa'n, the two Tlingit boys who worked for him.

"Boys, I have a question for you. You helped Anatolli and Ioann load the wood on the wagon yesterday, didn't you?"

The boys nodded. Kjell could see they were worried that they had somehow done something wrong. He sought to case their concerns. "You aren't in trouble. I just wondered if you knew anything about the price of the wood being increased."

"No," Aakashook said, looking to his brother. "Can't know nothing more." This was his routine way of explaining that he didn't know anything else about a matter.

Kjell nodded. The boys' English had improved considerably since coming to work for Kjell. They actually spoke Russian quite fluently, but Kjell knew their mother wanted them to speak better English, so he spoke it almost exclusively with them. Now, however, he wanted them comfortable, so he switched to Russian.

"Did the Sidorovs say anything at all about the delivery?"

The boys exchanged a look, and Kjell could see they were still uneasy. "You can tell me if something is wrong."

Keegaa'n, the elder of the two at thirteen, spoke up. "They are mean to us, Kjell. They hit us and if we talk had about them, they will hit us again."

Kjcll frowned. "They have no right. When did this happen?"

Aakashook had to join in. "They do it all the time. All the time they tell us they will hurt us if we don't do all the work they give us."

"Well, I don't intend to see that go on anymore. You should have talked to me about it. You will in the future, yes?"

The boys said they would.

"Good. Now it's nearly time for them to lock the gate. Go on home before you get in trouble." Kjell despised that the Tlingits in Sitka were confined each evening. The law held that the native people were not to be allowed to roam about the town after six o'clock. It was said this was for their safety more than anything, but Kjell knew the whites saw the Indians as a nuisance and had found a way to eliminate their presence, at least for part of the day. Night after night, soldiers rounded up the Indians like wild dogs. The natives would flee ahead of the soldiers, some trying to hide out, but generally they were caught. At six in the morning, the stockade gates were opened and the people of color were allowed to once again meld into the white Sitka society.

Though Kjell was bothered by the injustice of it, the boys didn't seem to give it any thought. It was all they knew. They hurried off, playfully punching at each other's arm. Each one tried to be the first to reach the large open door. Kjell followed slowly after them, watching the siblings race across the yard and down the road. They were good boys who had come to him at the insistence of their grandfather. The man had owed Kjell a debt and would not rest until some form of payment had been established. Kjcll knew the man couldn't afford to buy the wood and would have just given it to him, but the old man's pride would not allow for it. Instead, he offered to let the boys come every afternoon to work at his mill. Their mother especially liked this idea because she saw the benefit in their learning better English.

Kjell heard the wagon coming down the road and realized the Sidorovs were returning. He wondered what they would say when confronted with the question of the money. And then there was the issue of their hitting the boys. Kjell wasn't entirely sure how to approach the subject. He certainly didn't want the Sidorovs to somehow make the boys pay for their admission.

Two strong draft horses plodded up the drive and came to a stop when Anatolli pulled back hard on the reins. Ioann jumped from the wagon and began to unhitch the horses.

"I need to talk to you about something," Kjell said, looking from one broad-shouldered brother to the other. "Josh will take care of the horses. Why don't you step into my office." He turned and called for josh and waited until the younger man was in sight before joining the brothers.

"I need to talk to them-will you see to the horses?"

"Sure thing, b Kjell." He grinned. "See? I'm getting better already"

Kjell gave a chuckle, hut it was halfhearted. He hated confrontation with anyone, hut even more so with employees. He entered his office.

"I had a talk today with Mr. Seymour. It seems you told him the price of his lumber was to go up by fifty dollars. If he would pay you in cash, it was to be half that amount. Now, which one of you wants to tell me what this is all about?" he asked, crossing his arms and taking a stand behind his desk.

The two men were noticeably unhappy Anatolli's jaw clenched tight, and Ioann crossed his arms in a defiant manner.

"The man speaks lies," Ioann said, narrowing his eyes.

"Does he?" Kjell countered. "And what purpose would that serve? Perhaps I should go speak with some of the other customers and see if they've had similar problems."

Anatolli shook his head and reached out to take hold of his brother's arm. "We must not lie. It is true. But please understand. We did not do this had for our own pleasure."

Kjell looked from one man to the other. "I'm listening."

"It's our mother." Anatolli glanced at Ioann for support.

"Da, our mother is very sick. We get word that she may die," Ioann said. His entire countenance changed before Kjell's eyes. His expression took on one of a chastised pup. "We need money for the journey home."

"Why not just tell me about it? Instead, you go steal from my customers?"

"We did not think a little here and there would be missed," Anatolli said, shrugging.

"Twenty-five dollars is hardly a little amount. Who else have you done this to?"

"I can't remember," Ioann replied.

That many, eh?" Kjell shook his head and sat down at the desk. "You will return the money immediately, or I will turn this situation over to the army"

Anatolli jumped forward. "But please, we cannot do that. We have already purchased the tickets to Russia. We cannot get hack our money. Please do not take us to the soldiers, or we might never sec our mother again."

Kjell considered his words for a moment. The man was probably right. If he made this a matter of public knowledge, it would be months before they could go home. Against his betterjudgment, he nodded.

"Very well." Both men smiled and nodded as if to assure him he'd made the right decision. But I want a list of the people you overcharged. I need to make everything right with these folks."

"We will work on it together. Maybe we will have the names come to us," Anatolli suggested.

Kjell decided to say nothing more for the moment. He could scarcely believe there had been so many other people involved that the brothers couldn't simply give him a handful of names. He would have to take the account books home and go over each entry and then seek out each man. Who knew how much this would cost him in the long run? But money was nothing to a man's reputation. In this part of the world, a reputation was everything, and Kjell wasn't about to have his ruined by the likes of the Sidorov brothers.

"Get out of here. Come back in the morning with my list."

"And you will not turn us over… to the soldiers?" Ioann asked in a hesitant manner.

"No, but neither will I keep you in my employ. I cannot stand thieves." Kjell stood. "Leave me now before I change my mind."

The two men hurried from the room much as the Tlingit boys had done earlier. With a heavy sigh, Kjell picked up the ledger and slammed it shut. It was going to be a long night.

He thought for a moment of Zerelda's offer of supper. Maybe he should take her up on it. After all, he would get to see Lydia again. The hook weighed heavy in his arm, however. He wouldn't he good company, given the problem at hand. No, it would be best if he kept to himself.

By the end of the week, Lydia felt considerably stronger. She had managed to recover completely from her seasickness and Finally felt able to converse with Zerelda about the things that had happened in Kansas City.

Lingering over supper one night, Lydia shared her heart. "I feel safe here. For the first time in my life, I feel truly safe."

Her aunt frowned. "I'm so sorry. A young woman shouldn't have to come to the wilds of a barely settled land to experience such a thing. I'm truly angry with my brother for putting you in such circumstances, but I know that holding a grudge against the dead is hardly reasonable. He obviously didn't think of the pain he was causing you."

"No, I suppose he didn't," Lydia agreed. "My poor mother worried herself into the grave over the situation. I'm certain it was this and not the pneumonia that killed her."

"May your parents both be at rest now."

Lydia said nothing. She wasn't sure she really cared if her father had found peace or not. She still felt a hardness inside when she remembered pleading with him to annul the contract so she wouldn't have to marry Floyd Gray.

"Well," she said, putting thoughts of her parents aside, "there won't he any rest when it comes to the Grays trying to get back at me for taking their fortune. I've made arrangements with my lawyer to see their physical properties returned, but I'm sure they will remain unhappy. They had expected to get everything. They won't like that I've kept a part of what they deem to be theirs."

"This will make them dangerous," Zerelda said. "Men who feel they have been cheated seldom rest until the dispute is made right by their standards."

"That's why I left."

"I'm glad you did. I worried so about you. Many was the night I spent on my knees in prayer for your deliverance."

"Surely even you can see that it didn't work, Aunt Zerelda. You can't expect me to put any stock in your prayers when they so obviously failed."

"But they didn't. You were delivered," Zerelda said, looking surprised. "Can't you see that for yourself?"

"You can't tell me that Floyd's death was some divine intervention by God on my behalf." Lydia shook her head. "Why not simply make Floyd a kind man who truly loved me? Why not change the hearts of Floyd's children and give me a good life in their company?"

"We can't always know why God answers our prayers in one way instead of another."

Lydia got to her feet. "Or doesn't answer them at all. Honestly, Zerelda, I cannot see things your way when it comes to God. If you'll excuse me now I'd like to go outside and play my violin."

Zerelda looked as if she wanted to say something more, but she remained silent. Lydia went to her violin case and opened it. She lovingly took up the bow and tightened the horsehair. Next she ran it across the rosin and, when satisfied, picked up the violin and tucked it under her arm.

Outside, the world seemed at peace. The sun wouldn't yet set for hours, given the long summer days. Lydia walked a little ways down the path and stood overlooking the harbor below. The tiny islands looked like shadowy mounds against the gray-blue water. Several fishing boats made their way across the inlet, and in the far distance, a ship sat anchored in the stillness.

Lydia tested the strings of the violin, listening for the perfect pitch she desired. When this was accomplished, she raised the violin and rested it against her shoulder. Since she'd been a young girl, this very action had given her spirit a sense of calming. Drawing the how across the strings, Lydia sighed. Her soul took flight on the wings of the melody, the haunting strains drifting down the valley to fill up all the hushed nooks with song.

Closing her eyes, Lydia lost herself in the moment. Here, nothing could harm her. Here, there was true peace and comfort for her weary and damaged heart.