I
find this rather annoying,” Marston declared the next morning as he joined Dalton in Evie’s front sitting room. “It serves no good purpose.”
Evie had left the house an hour earlier to attend to some shopping, and Dalton was glad for the privacy. He didn’t intend to play games with his brother.
“It serves my purpose,” Dalton replied. “And that is all that matters to me at the moment.”
Marston shrugged. “If that is how it’s to be.”
“It is.” Dalton sat in the same chair he’d used the night he and Evie had spoken to Marston and the others. “I don’t generally waste my time with godless men, but I find reason to give an exception this time.”
“Godless? Just because I don’t adhere to religious nonsense, you call me godless?”
Dalton stared at him a moment and waited until Marston finally took a seat. “I don’t adhere to religious nonsense, either. However, I value honesty, humility, compassion, and forgiveness.”
Marston uttered an expletive. “You sound like a naïve preacher.”
“Be that as it may, I came here with one intent: to hear your side of what happened in Alaska between you and my mother.”
His brother’s eyes seemed to narrow to slits. “You seem halfway intelligent. Why do you suppose I will tell you anything? Men my own age do not speak to me the way you have. Why do you suppose I would allow you to do so?”
“You’ll allow it, and you’ll tell me what I want to know. Until recently, I knew very little about our father and nothing of you.
My mother never uttered a word.”
“I would have expected as much. Your mother is a liar and a thief. She isn’t worth the dirt she walks on.”
Marston’s hateful words nearly caused Dalton to come out of his seat. He knew his brother was baiting him—trying to get him angry.
If I lose control,
Dalton told himself,
then Marston will
take it.
“You will refrain from speaking against my mother.”
“You wanted the truth.”
Dalton clenched his fist and then relaxed. “I want to know what prompted you to do the things you did. You will not malign my mother.”
Marston laughed. “And if I do? What will you do about it?”
A slow smile formed on Dalton’s lips. “In Sitka, when a man insults your womenfolk, the offense is often settled with a good punch to the face. Given you are an old man who does very little physically, and I am in my prime and quite strong, I believe I would have the upper hand. In fact, it might be extremely satisfying.”
His brother studied Dalton for a moment, then shrugged again. “What is it you want to know?”
“I want the truth. It’s just you and me, and I want to know why you did what you did.”
Marston sat in silence for several long minutes before meeting Dalton’s gaze. “I did it for the money. Pure and simple. You held the key to our family fortune. If I had you, I could have that, as well.”
Dalton would never have admitted it, but his brother’s callous words hurt him. He knew his mother had said this was Marston’s reasoning, but he had somehow hoped the man might suggest otherwise. He hardened himself against the emotions welling within him, however. He needed to remain strong and clear-minded.
“Do you regret the things you did?” Dalton asked, knowing that his brother probably didn’t have conscience enough for regret.
“I do.”
His answer surprised Dalton. “Would you care to explain?”
“I should have simply waited until you were older, then enticed you to join Mitchell and me here in Kansas City. You really should learn about the family business, for we’re the ones Father raised to take it. He had no idea you even existed. Your mother had been unable to give him children.”
“Because he beat her badly enough to cause her to miscarry,” Dalton replied. “Since he died, she was able to carry me to delivery.”
“Your mother was difficult. Our father had to keep her in line. You weren’t there, so it’s easy for you to make her into some kind of saint. But believe me, she wasn’t.”
Dalton laughed. “I never said she was, but if any woman is capable of being such, she is. You don’t know her at all.”
“I know she had charges brought against me for murder and attempted murder—not to mention your kidnapping. I know she turned my younger sister against me, against the entire family. And her own husband.”
“My mother did not turn her against any of you. Evie came to Alaska a broken, disheartened woman. When she overheard you admitting to your brother and her husband that you had tried to kill my mother so that you could raise me, it was more than she could bear.” Dalton shook his head. “Just in talking with you, I realize that you care nothing about the pain and suffering you caused. My mother nearly died because of you, and even when she recovered, it was a slow and painful process. I suppose that brings you more joy than regret. I can only be glad that I wasn’t influenced by your heartlessness.”
“You are naïve,” Marston said matter-of-factly. “You have a misconception of how the world functions. People get hurt. People suffer. People die. It’s a simple cycle. Our father was a man of business and means. He craved power and respect, and he got both.
These kinds of things are important to most men.”
“My father has both, and I’ve seldom ever heard him raise his voice to anyone, much less commit murder to get them. I think you’re the one who lives on misconceptions.”
“Perhaps in your isolated little world, such things work. But not here. There are truly bad people in the world, Dalton, but I’m not one of them. It would behoove you to stick around and see that for yourself. I am hardly the same man I was then. Had I done things differently, you might be here asking me to teach you about the family business dealings. You would see the importance of bringing Mitchell and me back into what had always been intended for us.
“Furthermore, you would understand in time that the bond between us Gray men is a strong one—an unbreakable one. Just because your mother took you to Alaska and allowed a stranger to raise you doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of us. You have the same blood. We are brothers, Dalton. Nothing changes that. Not your mother’s desires or the distance of miles. If you stayed here, we could build our business into an empire.”
“I am your brother; that much is true. However, I feel no bond to you. Frankly, you disgust me with your excuses and contradictions. You are selfish, and that motivates you to serve yourself rather than others. I could never be in business with you. I don’t trust you now, and I don’t believe I ever could.”
Marston gave out a loud guffaw. “So much for your Christian forgiveness and compassion. I thought practicing your religious values was what you held most dear.”
Dalton got to his feet and stared at Marston for a moment. Everything his sister and mother had told him about the man was true. He was a liar and a cheat, a ruthless man who had no desire to play by the rules—either man’s or God’s.
“You should thank God that I am practicing my religious beliefs and values. Otherwise, I believe I would have killed you the first time we met—revenge for what you did to my mother. Instead, I’m glad to let God avenge her and me. Now I want you to go. There’s no sense in your being here when Evie returns.”
“But I thought you wanted my story about what happened.” Marston’s tone was taunting.
Shaking his head, Dalton moved toward the door. “I already know your story.”
Phoebe made her way up the steps to the Lindquist house with their box of ordered candles tucked securely under her arm. She had thought to talk to Lydia about what Yuri said, but then realized it would be silly. Lydia probably knew nothing about the contest between the two friends, and even if she did, what could she say?
“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come,” Zee said upon answering the door. She ushered Phoebe inside. “I have some young ladies I want you to meet.”
Lydia saw a circle of several girls; none looked to be much more than fifteen. She smiled and received their smiles in return.
“Girls, this is Phoebe Robbins,” Zee announced. “She and her mother make candles, and she has brought some here today.” She then introduced each of the girls, giving both their Tlingit name and the Americanized version. “Eleanor and Edith are sisters. Edith is sixteen and Eleanor is seventeen. Mary and Deborah are both fifteen, and Catherine is eighteen. They are each married and have come here to learn since they cannot attend the school.”
Married? Phoebe was surprised by this news as well as the age of the girls. They were all quite small.
Of course, I’m not all
that large myself,
she thought. Her petite frame and short stature had caused many people to misjudge her age. “I’m very glad to meet all of you.”
“We’re quilting today. Would you care to join us?” Zee asked.
“No, I can’t stay long, but thank you for the invitation. My mother sent me with Lydia’s order of candles.”
Zee took the box from Phoebe. “Lydia is out back if you wish to say hello.”
“I believe I will. It was nice to see you, Zee. I hope we can talk again soon.”
“Perhaps sometime you could show the girls about candle making.”
“I’ll mention it to my mother,” Phoebe replied. “I believe we could certainly plan something.”
Zee smiled. “Until next time then.”
Phoebe nodded and made her way out. She was just heading around the side of the house when she spotted Lydia coming up the walk. “Hello, Mrs. Lindquist.”
“I thought we agreed you would call me Lydia.”
“I forgot,” Phoebe admitted. “I brought your candles. Zee took them and said you were out here. I thought I would say hello.”
“I’m glad you did,” Lydia replied. “Come and talk with me a moment. We’ve had news. Evie sent a telegram to Seattle and arranged for it to be given to the captain of a vessel coming north. We got the message just yesterday. She and Dalton intend to be home in about two weeks.”
“That’s wonderful news. I’m sure you’ve missed them.”
“I have. I can’t help but admit my fear for their safety. But she says they are well. I’m sure we will hear all about it when they return.”
“And . . . Dalton? He is coming back, as well?”
“Oh, most assuredly. Dalton would never leave Sitka for long. He loves it here. This is his home.”
Though Phoebe was anticipating his return, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment in Lydia’s words. Sitka still felt unfamiliar. Now that fall was upon them, she missed New England and the wonderful colors of the trees in Vermont. She missed so many things about her home.
“You look upset. Are you unwell?” Lydia asked.
“No. Not at all,” Phoebe said. “I’ve just not found a way to feel comfortable here. I envy you who have. How did you adjust to such isolation?”
Lydia gave a light laugh. “I never liked the city. It was noisy and smelly and there were far too many people. I suppose just as you hate the quiet, I craved it.”
“It is a restful place,” Phoebe agreed. “I pray and pray, however, that somehow God will give me a way to leave.” She immediately regretted her confession.
Lydia gave her arm a pat. “But have you ever asked God to help you learn to love your new surroundings? So often, we pray for the wrong thing.”
“Pray to love Sitka?”
“Why not? Instead of asking for Him to remove you, why not pray to find value and comfort in where He has taken you?”
Phoebe had honestly never thought of it that way. “I don’t suppose it could hurt. But what then?”
“Who can say? Only the Lord can direct your steps. He alone knows where this will lead you,” Lydia replied. “God’s purposes sometimes seem strange, but He is a good Father, Phoebe. He wants to give good things to His children. Paul speaks in Philippians of it being great gain to learn contentment, no matter the circumstance.
God can give it to you, if you truly want it.”
Phoebe thought about it a moment and nodded. “I think I do.
It would be wonderful to wake up in the morning and not long for another place. Sometimes I dread even getting out of bed.”
“Well, I do, too, but for entirely different reasons. I find as I get older, I like to sleep just a little longer,” Lydia said, laughing.