Dawn's Prelude (28 page)

The words were all Kjell had hoped to hear, but doubt lingered.

“Then why doesn’t she wake up?”

The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t know. The body is such an unpredictable science. Just when you think you have it all figured out, it throws you yet another symptom or problem. So much depends on the patient.”

Dr. Ensign completed his exam, then motioned Kjell to follow him out of the ward. “Captain Briar is downstairs. He said when you have time, he’d like to speak to you.”

“Did he say if he’d found something—the Sidorovs or Dalton?”

“No. He showed up just before I came up here and said he’d wait downstairs in my office. Mrs. Ensign has coffee waiting for you, as well. When you finish with the captain, feel free to join us for breakfast.”

Kjell hurried downstairs ahead of the doctor and made his way to the small office. Captain Briar was waiting inside, standing rather formally at the window.

“You wanted to see me?”

The man turned and nodded. His expression was grave. “Please sit.”

A vise tightened around Kjell’s chest. He reached for the nearest chair but didn’t sit. “What is it? Something isn’t right.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m afraid things don’t look good. My men located the cabin that the Sidorovs were using. It’s on the water and . . .”

He pressed his lips together as if unable to say another word.

“Tell me. Tell me now. I have to know what you found.”

Captain Briar cleared his throat and hesitated a moment longer. “We found Anatolli Sidorov. His body washed up on shore, along with debris from a small boat and other things.”

“What other things?”

“There were articles of clothing—baby clothing.”

“No. You’re wrong.”

The captain moved to where Kjell stood. “We didn’t find the baby, but we feel . . . that is . . . with the boat destroyed . . . well, it’s just a matter of time.”

“Until what? What are you saying?” Kjell heard his own frantic words and knew the answer without asking.

“We believe all of them were lost at sea in the storm,” Captain Briar finally said. He reached out to grip Kjell’s arm. “Since Anatolli’s body washed ashore, we’re hoping the remains of the others will, as well.”

Kjell shook his head. “You’re wrong. You have to be wrong. My son can’t be dead.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think he would have survived. Even if the Sidorovs were taking him to the Gray man as you suggested, they had to battle the storm. You know yourself that was one of the worst we’ve seen in a long while. They were simply unable to keep off of the rocks.”

Kjell sank into the chair and buried his face in his hands. How could he ever tell Lydia that their child was dead? At least if he were with Gray, there was hope of getting him back safely.

His shoulders shook as deep sobs made their way up from his heart.
God? Where are you? Why is this happening? How can
we bear it?

The captain stayed at his side, his hand still on Kjell’s arm. He offered no words of consolation. There were no words. Nothing spoken could make sense of what had happened.

Kjell thought of the tiny boy—of his love for this child.
He
might not be flesh of my flesh,
he thought,
but Dalton is my son,
just the same.

Zerelda was waiting for Kjell when he finally emerged from the office. She could see for herself that the news hadn’t been good.

Kjell’s red-rimmed eyes bore clear evidence that the worst thing possible had come to pass.

“Did they find Dalton?” she asked, terrified to even ask the question.

Kjell took hold of her and led her to a wooden chair. He sat down beside her. “No. Not yet.”

Zerelda felt a sense of hope. “Then what has you so upset? I thought for sure—”

“They found Anatolli Sidorov and . . . and . . . wreckage.”

“Wreckage?”

Kjell met her gaze and nodded. “The boat was ripped apart by the storm. There was debris, along with Anatolli’s body. Some things belonged to Dalton.”

She put her hand to her mouth and shook her head. She knew in her heart what Kjell was trying to tell her, but she couldn’t fathom that it could possibly be true.

“Captain Briar believes that in time, Ioann and Dalton may be found, as well. He believes them all to have drowned.”

Zerelda’s eyes filled with tears as she continued to shake her head. She couldn’t bear the thought. Dalton could not be dead.

He simply couldn’t be.

Kjell put his arm around Zerelda to hold her close, and this was her undoing. She wept softly into her hands.
Dear Lord, please
don’t let this be true. He’s just a baby. Please, Lord.

Chapter 23

E
vie made her way downstairs. She was due at a meeting of the Kansas City Orphans and Widows Association, where she and many others of society’s finest would share refreshments and determine how best to help those in need.

She sent for the carriage and allowed the butler to help her with her coat. Evie was just doing up the buttons when Thomas crossed the hall and spotted her.

“My dear, where are you headed on this cold afternoon?”

“I’m going to my meeting for the widows and orphans. Remember? I told you about it at breakfast this morning.”

He considered her statement for a moment. “Yes, I suppose I do recall that.” He gave her a disinterested nod, then said to the butler, “Miles, don’t forget to have the carriage brought round for me at eleven.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied with a curt nod.

Evie pulled on her gloves. “If anyone comes to call, tell them I’ll be receiving later today—after two.”

“Very good, madam.” He opened the door for her and offered to assist her. “Shall I see you to the carriage?”

“No thank you, Miles. I’ll be just fine.”

Evie felt the bite of the February air and buried her face in her coat. The coachman opened the door of the enclosed carriage and helped her aboard. Evie settled into the leather upholstery with her face still tucked low as the door was secured.

“I can help keep you warm,” a voice whispered.

Startled, she looked up to find Trayton Payne sitting opposite her. He quickly came to her side just as the driver put the carriage in motion.

“What are you doing here?” She saw his serious expression turn to one of amusement as he pulled her close.

“What do you suppose?” He silenced any reply by kissing her.

Evie tried to push him away at first. Trayton, however, would have no part of that. He only tightened his hold and pressed kisses against her jaw and ear.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“Stop this,” she said, although she hardly sounded convincing.

“You don’t really want me to stop,” he said matter-of-factly.

Evie knew he spoke the truth. The worst of it was that he knew how she felt. She didn’t want him to stop. She thrilled to his touch, his attention.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

He gently fingered a wisp of hair at her temple. “Beautiful and intelligent. Most women cannot boast of both. Some cannot even claim one or the other. How unique to find it all in you.”

“Why are you here?” she said, her voice barely audible.

“I heard that you were going out this morning. I slipped into the carriage when the driver was otherwise occupied.” He eased his hold and grinned. “Are you sorry that I did so?”

She didn’t move from his embrace. For a moment, she considered lying, but then shook her head. “I regret only that I am not free to receive your attention.” She looked away immediately, realizing she’d said too much. Embarrassed by her words, she hurried to change the subject but chose the wrong topic. “It’s certainly cold today.”

“I can make you feel warm,” he said with a low chuckle. Tray-ton took up a lap blanket and spread it out slowly, leaning over to tuck it around her snugly.

Evie trembled at his nearness. This was madness. She was a married woman, and despite the fact that her husband showed her no attention or affection, adultery was still frowned upon by those in society. Of course, it wasn’t frowned upon for men—just women. A woman could be lonely and as desperate for love as she was, and still an affair would be scandalous news. She would be ostracized—rejected completely—and her only guilt would be that she desired to feel loved. Well, maybe not her only guilt.

“I seem to have lost your attention. I must try harder to keep your thoughts on me,” Trayton said, pulling her back against him.

A very small part of her wanted to fight him—to say no and demand he leave her alone. But one look into his dark eyes and Evie knew the situation was hopeless. She was being seduced, and she felt helpless to stop herself.

“I have a wonderful plan. Thomas is sending me to Chicago on business. Why don’t you come with me? I can act as your chaperone, and we can be together without worrying about the ever watchful eye of busybodies.”

Evie’s mind whirled with a thousand thoughts. “How would I ever explain my going to Chicago?”

“You love to travel, and you’re bored. It’s winter, and you need to get away for something different. If we plan it right, you can ask him while in my presence, and I can suggest you travel with me.”

“I don’t know.” Evie put her hand to her head. Things were moving too fast.

“Oh, Evie, you deserve better than what Thomas gives you. I see the way he ignores you. I see the hurt in your eyes when he passes you by without much more than a single glance.”

“You do?” she said in disbelief.

His hand caressed her cheek. “I do. I see that and more. He truly has no regard for anyone or anything except his money and business affairs. He doesn’t understand your needs.”

“And you think you do?”

He grinned. “I suppose you could best answer that. For example, how does this meet your need?” He kissed her again.

Evie shivered from the intensity of his touch. She felt him pull her onto his lap, and she did nothing to stop him. Cradled in his arms, she lost all rational thought. There was only this moment and Trayton. Nothing else mattered.

Kjell wandered down Lincoln Street, desperately trying to figure out how he would tell Lydia about Dalton. She was still unconscious, but the doctor was seeing signs that she was starting to come back to them. The army had found no other wreckage or sign of Ioann or the baby but remained confident that they were lost. Captain Briar saw no reason to send word to Kansas City authorities, as they had no proof that Marston Gray had been involved.

He made his way back to the hospital as a gentle rain started to fall. The slate-colored skies meant it would most likely rain off and on all day. There was no sign of a break in the clouds for as far as Kjell could see, and the heaviness of the sky only served to deepen his sadness.

“There you are,” Zerelda said as he entered the hospital’s foyer. “Were you able to manage things at the mill?”

Kjell had told her that he was going to the mill in order to finish out several invoices, but in truth he’d never made it that far. “I lost track of time and never got there,” he admitted. “What did the doctor say about your wound?”

“He told me I have a hard head and that I’m doing just fine.” She took hold of his arm. “I’m going to head home and make us a nice supper. When do you plan to be there?”

Glancing around the entryway, he shook his head. “I don’t know, Zee. I hate to leave Lydia.”

“I know you do. Just come home for supper and then you can come right back.”

Kjell looked past her to the stairs. “I suppose.”

Zerelda reached out and took hold of his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I just don’t know what to tell her about Dalton.” Zerelda nodded and Kjell met her gaze. “I just don’t think he’s dead. The army has found no definitive proof. I have to believe that Gray was behind all of this.”

“But what can you do to prove it one way or the other?” Zee asked. “How can we keep clinging to hope when there is no evidence that Dalton is still alive?”

“That’s why we have to find out for sure.”

“But how?”

Kjell squared his shoulders. “I’m not sure, but—”