Tracie Peterson - Dawns Prelude

"You sound as though you don't enjoy such things. Most women like to show off their pretty dresses at a good party"

Zerelda laughed and pulled on a shawl. " Lydia has become quite the wallflower, I'm afraid. She prefers quiet nights at the fire's side with a book and a cup of warm milk."

"Sounds perfect to me," Kjell admitted. The only thing he would have changed about the scene was to insert himself alongside Lydia during one of those private evenings at home. He couldn't deny his attraction to her. He longed to know her better.

Lydia said very little on the way to the residence, and once there, Kjell found her quickly whisked away to dance with a bevy of officers from the fort. Zerelda, too, became an instant focus of attention, and before he realized it, Kjell was standing alone.

He watched Lydia waltzing with first one man and then another. She smiled and made conversation with each person, hut Kjell could sense she was not truly enjoying herself. He still wondered about her past and the pain that had been inflicted upon her. Lydia never talked about anything to do with her dead husband, but Zerelda had indicated the situation had been horrific.

The music stopped, and Lydia and her partner stopped directly to his right. Kjell had thought to claim Lydia for the next dance, but to his surprise, she approached him first.

"I hope you won't think me forward, but I wonder if you might escort me outside for a hit of air." She reached for her wrap hanging by the front door.

He smiled. "I'd be happy to." Extending his arm, he felt her place her small hand in the crook of his elbow.

"You aren't leaving us, are you?" one of the officers questioned when Kjell led Lydia to the door.

"We'll return, never fear. The lady would like a hit of air." Kjell's explanation seemed to assuage the man's concerns. He stepped aside and let them pass into the coolness of the night.

Lydia shivered as they stepped onto the porch, and Kjell realized she was still holding her woolen shawl. "Here, let me help you." He took hold of the wrap and secured it around her shoulders. In doing so, he allowed his arm to linger around her for just a moment.

"Will it snow soon?" she asked.

In the mountains, perhaps, but not down here not yet. We get more rain than snow. It actually stays pretty mild throughout the winter. Some years are worse than others, of course, but for the most part, we make out all right."

Lydia nodded. "I remember Zerelda saying something to that effect. I suppose I had forgotten. It snowed hack in Kansas City most winters. It wasn't always deep or long lasting, but we generally had some."

"Is it a large city?" Kjell asked, hoping she would feel free to discuss the past with him.

Lydia considered his question for a moment. "It is. Much too large to suit me after living here. I thought I might miss it, but I don't. Here I find myself feeling a… a sense of coming home." She gave a small laugh. "There's a peace here that I've never experienced. Sitka somehow fills an emptiness inside me. I suppose that sounds silly."

"Not at all," Kjell assured her.

"So now I've answered a question. Will you do the same for me?" she asked.

"Certainly." He grinned. "What would you like to know

"Kjcll. What does that mean what kind of name is it?"

"It's Swedish. It's from the word kettil, meaning caldron or kettle. Why do you ask?"

"I suppose because it's so foreign to me." Lydia gave him a smile. "But now I have answered two of your questions, so you must take another of mine."

He leaned hack against the house and shrugged. "You can ask me anything. I don't mind at all. My life is pretty much what you see.

Lydia was silent for several minutes, and Kjell thought she'd changed her mind. When she did speak, he was surprised by her request.

"Tell me about your wife."

"Raisa? Well, she was from a Russian family who had moved here from the old country to run a flour mill. I met her first when she was fourteen. I was twenty at the time and didn't give her much attention. A couple of years passed, however, and I started to notice her plenty." He laughed. "She was like no other girl I'd ever known. She had a natural happiness that seemed to make life easier for everyone around her. That's not to say she didn't have moments of sadness. When her parents returned to Russia, she was devastated. I didn't want to leave Sitka. My mother had just died, and I wasn't yet ready to say good-bye to all I'd known here. I suppose now, looking back, it was selfish of me. Probably the most selfish decision I've ever made."

"If that's the worst choice you've made, you've fared better than most," Lydia said, her voice barely audible. "I've known selfish men, and that hardly measures up."

"It hurt her just the same. She knew her place was with me, but she longed for her family. They were all very close. By the time I was ready to consider the possibility of leaving, Raisa took ill. The doctors never knew exactly what the problem was, but she wasted away before my very eyes. Within a month of getting sick, she was gone."

"I'm sorry. It sounds as if you loved her very much."

Kjell nodded. "I did. She was a good woman with a sweet spirit. Much like you."

Lydia turned away from him. "My spirit is not so sweet. I have a great deal of bitterness inside me. I'm not enough of a liar to deny that."

Kjell came to where she stood and turned her to face him. "You've been through a great deal. I don't know much about it, but I can see it in your eyes. If you ever want to talk to me about it, I'll listen."

The soft glow from the house windows shed just enough light on Lydia 's face for him to see her surprise. "I don't suppose I'm used to a man even caring about such things, much less offering to listen to me."

He reached up to gently touch her face. He felt a moment of victory when she didn't pull away. "I care."

Lydia held his gaze for a moment and said nothing. It almost seemed that she was assessing him, to somehow prove to herself he spoke the truth. She drew her lower lip in and hit down on it before hacking away.

"I suppose we should get hack," she said. "Zerelda will worry about me."

Kjell nodded. He wished she would remain with him on the porch but didn't try to change her mind. Instead, he did the only thing he could to keep her in his company a hit longer. "Will you give me the next dance?"

She paused at the door and nodded. "I will."

Gerald Lytle looked at the substantial amount of cash offered him and drew a deep breath. Marston Gray knew the man needed the money Needed it desperately to offset gambling debts he'd incurred just the week before.

"You don't plan any harm to come to her?" Lytle asked, clearly considering what Marston wanted.

"Of course not, you fool. I'm a gentleman, not a killer. I merely wish to thank her for her generosity to my family and apologize for the way she was treated. I tried approaching Robinson, but he seems to think we are all associated with our father's actions against Lydia."

"She was terribly mistreated," Gerald agreed.

Marston said nothing hut nodded as if in agreement. "Rest assured, I only desire to communicate my appreciation and to know that she is truly all right. She might not feel that correspondence from me is necessary, but for my own peace of mind, it is."

"Perhaps you could pen the letter and I could mail it for you," Gerald suggested. "That way you could accomplish your desires, and I wouldn't betray any confidences."

Marston shook his head. "No. I think it would be best to do it just as I've described. I want access to the files to her correspondence with Mr. Robinson. I want assurance that she's not being cheated in any way."