Tracie Peterson - Dawns Prelude

Lydia let her gaze travel to the rows of long log houses. They were quite large, and she supposed several families could live within one structure. A high wooden stockade ran up from the beach to the first of three blockhouses. Aunt Zerelda had told her many stories about the Tlingit Indians of the area. Her aunt had a strong affection for these people, although she admitted that their ways often confused her.

"Many of the town's buildings are in disrepair," the officer told her. When most of the Russians left, taking their businesses with them, the town suffered greatly. However, there are still numerous stores and saloons." He smiled. "Always there must be saloons."

Lydia nodded. Zerelda had told her of at least two breweries that made liquor for the area people. It seemed importing liquor to Alaska was not legal, hut creating it there apparently was acceptable. Zerelda hated it because the Tlingits seemed to have little physical tolerance for the stuff, yet found it much desired.

"I understand you have family here."

Lydia gave the man a brief nod. "My aunt has lived here since before the purchase. She is a nurse."

"Did she come to help with the military hospital?"

"No. She was hired by a German family. It seems the wife was taken with bouts of illness, and the husband wanted her to have a learned companion who could aid her when sickness kept her bedfast."

A young sailor approached them. "Beggin' your pardon, Captain said to tell you the launch is ready."

"I suppose this is farewell," Lydia 's companion declared. "We will he here for a short time, so perhaps I will see you again."

Lydia realized the man seemed more than a little interested in her response to his suggestion. She felt her stomach roil and pitch as the ship shifted in the water. "Perhaps." She offered nothing more.

Collecting her things, Lydia refused the officer's help and made her way to where the launch awaited passengers. Lady Franklin and Miss Cracroft were already settled when Lydia took her place on hoard. She allowed the young man there to take her carpetbag, while she held tightly to her violin.

"The rest of your things will he brought ashore later today"

Lydia nodded. "I'll send someone for them."

If the larger ship had proven difficult for Lydia 's composure, the smaller vessel was even worse. The constant motion made her nauseated, and she feared she might be sick once again.

She straightened and again dabbed the handkerchief to her face, hoping the boat would soon dock. Lady Franklin whispered something to her niece and it was only a moment before the woman reached toward Lydia.

"My aunt suggests a hit 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 he 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 he so glad to he 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 hag. 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 hustled around the docks. Most were men either coming off small fishing boats or preparing to head out. Some threw her an appreciative glance hut 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.

"Arc 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 Meiji, Maid.

"She just fell into my arms out of nowhere."

Brincy 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."

Kjcll 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 Kjcll. Kjcll Lindquist."

"Chell? What kind of name is that?"

"It's Swedish. Doesn't look a thing like it sounds."