“We did. He had a great deal of money.”
“What happened next?”
Ioann frowned. “After I hit the woman, I saw the blood and got scared. I told Anatolli to hurry and get the child. I thought I had killed the woman, and I wanted to run before someone found out. I heard some gunfire from upstairs and knew Anatolli had probably killed Mrs. Lindquist. He came down with a bag of things and the baby wrapped up in some blankets. He told me the baby’s mother was dead, and we left.”
Kjell found himself gripping the sides of the chair even tighter. The man spoke of his actions as though they’d been nothing more than accounts of a day spent fishing. How could he be so callous in regard to human life?
“Where did you go?” the captain asked.
“Back to the boat. The storm was bad, though. We had much trouble and only got a little ways at a time. Anatolli finally decided it was too much, and we put to shore and walked instead. We knew it would be only a short time before Kjell would get home, and we had to get to the cabin where we had promised Gray to meet.”
“We found your cabin. We also found the body of your brother not far from it, as well as debris. What happened?”
Ioann frowned. “Mr. Gray shot Anatolli and would have shot me, but I ran. He tried to find me, but I hid very well.”
Briar leaned toward the man. “And what of the baby?”
“Gray took him. He always planned to take him back to where he lived. He had a boat and supplies waiting to take him south.
He knew the mail ship would come that way, and he would board it and go home.”
“And you are certain the baby was alive?”
“Yes. Gray wouldn’t harm him. He seemed quite pleased to have him.”
Briar looked to Kjell. “I suppose it’s time to send the authorities to find Marston Gray.”
“It was time for that months ago,” Kjell said, not even attempting to hide his ire with the man. “I told you that Gray was behind this and that he would have the child—if at all possible.” He got to his feet. “Now it’s time to get my son back.”
Lydia found herself humming a song and wondered how she knew it. It was a lovely melody—soft and sweet, gentle like a lullaby. She couldn’t help but wonder who had taught her the song and whether or not she could play it on the violin.
A glance across the room drew her attention to the idle case.
She hadn’t tried in a long time to play the instrument. The few times she had attempted it, the only sounds she could draw from the strings reminded her of screeching jays.
She heard the wagon approach and knew that Kjell was home.
After checking on supper, Lydia pulled off her apron and went to greet him. Lydia waved at her husband, but he barely acknowledged her. His mind was clearly preoccupied. She could see that much.
Making her way back to the corral, Lydia watched as Kjell unharnessed the horses. He hadn’t yet realized she was there. His hands went quickly to the work at hand, but Lydia could see that he was muttering the entire time.
“Is something wrong, Kjell?” she asked.
He startled, which in turn caused the draft horse to sidestep and knock him against the rail fence. Lydia gasped and covered her mouth to keep from crying out. If Kjell was injured, it would be her fault.
The horse calmed as Kjell spoke soothingly. He nudged the beast back and slipped from between him and the fence. Kjell offered her a smile. “I’m all right. Really.”
Lydia waited in silence while he finished with the horses. Kjell led the animals to their stalls and gave them ample food and water before coming to join her. He tried to make light of the situation, but Lydia knew he was concerned about something else.
“I’m sorry to have spoken out like that,” Lydia said.
He put his arms around her. “It’s all right. My mind wasn’t on my work as it should have been.” Pulling her close, he kissed her and buried his face against her hair for a moment. “I missed you today.”
Lydia thought there was almost a sound of desperation in his voice. “Kjell, what’s wrong?”
He pulled back and looked at her. “Why do you ask?”
“You aren’t yourself. I can see that much for myself.”
Offering her a smile, he reached up and smoothed back her hair. “It was just a very busy day.”
She stepped back and frowned. “You’re lying to me. I asked you not to keep the truth from me, but I can see that you are.”
His expression changed. “Liddie, please listen to me. I want to tell you everything, but I just don’t know what it might mean to your getting well.”
“I am well. My memories are the only thing missing, and maybe if you and Zerelda would be honest with me, my memory would come back.”
He studied the ground for several minutes. Lydia thought to leave, but something kept her fixed to the spot. “Why won’t you just tell me? I’m stronger now,” she told him. “I can deal with whatever it is.”
The silence stretched between them and when Kjell did finally look up, Lydia saw there were tears in his eyes. Panic spread through her like a wildfire. What was he upset about? What was so troubling that he would cry?
She stepped back another pace. Maybe she didn’t want to know the truth. Maybe she should leave well enough alone.
Kjell seemed to sense her fear. “Lydia, please just trust me a little longer. It’s not all bad—in fact, it might well be something very good.”
Nodding, Lydia wrapped her arms to her body. She felt so alone, but there seemed no other choice. “All right, I’ll trust you.”
M
arston Gray bounded out of his carriage and into the three-story brick house that he called home. He longed for a drink to calm his nerves. All day long, he’d been on edge, and when finally his worst fears were confirmed, Marston knew he would have to act quickly.
Word came to him through a business associate, who told Marston in no uncertain terms that someone was snooping around, trying to get information about him. They were asking all sorts of ridiculous questions about whether Marston was married and had recently had a child born to him. The man had laughed it off as assuming it was someone with a case of mistaken identity, but Marston knew better.
“Lindquist.” He nearly choked on the name. Stalking through the house and ignoring his staff, Marston secluded himself in his study and locked the door.
He considered the brandy for a moment, then instead poured himself a liberal amount of whiskey and took a seat behind his desk. He tossed down a good portion of the drink, all while trying to figure out what he should do. If Kjell Lindquist had contacted authorities, then why didn’t they simply come to the house and question him?
If only Lydia would have died, none of this would have been an issue. As the child’s true next of kin, Marston could have easily explained his decision to take the child. He could have even fabricated some sort of story as to how he came to be in possession of the baby. But now all of that was impossible.
Nursing the remaining amber-colored liquor, he tried to think of what he should do. Obviously, he’d been cautious about letting anyone know of Dalton’s existence. As far as he knew there were only a handful of people who were even aware that the child was in Kansas City. Still, if the authorities were truly investigating the situation, they would be watching.
It would probably be best to go see Thomas and Evie and discuss the matter. He would have to either tell Evie the truth or create another fabrication. But what story could he give his sister to gain her sympathy or support? He could only hope that her time with the baby had caused a tight bond to form. Maybe if she was sufficiently attached to the child, she would be willing to lie in order to keep him with her.
Marston finished the whiskey and stared at the empty glass for several minutes. He wanted another drink, but he had to keep his wits. Nothing was going right. Nothing at all. They had not been successful in ridding themselves of Dwight Robinson, nor of obtaining his records concerning Lydia. The casket business continued to run successfully without them, headed instead by an appointed group of officials, who were only too happy to keep the Gray family out of all matters.
His own investments were suffering, and Mitchell declared the same to be true for him. They needed the casket business and the steady money it brought. Without it, Marston wasn’t certain they could reestablish their financial footing.
A knock sounded on his door, disrupting any further thought. Marston drew a deep breath and went to see who had come to disturb him. He was surprised to open the door to find his twin on the other side.
“What brings you here?”
“There is trouble afoot,” Mitchell declared. “Someone has been checking into my affairs.”
Evie found it impossible to look at Dalton and not be consumed with guilt. She had suffered nightmares every night since learning the truth about Lydia. How could her family be so corrupt and evil? She had hoped that sinister side would have died with their father.
Sequestered in her private sitting room with Dalton and the new assistant nanny, Evie tried to figure out what she would do about righting this wrong. She longed to get Dalton back to Lydia, but how? What possible action could she make and not find herself up against her brothers and husband? Perhaps she could write to Lydia and tell her to come to Kansas City. If Lydia knew exactly where Dalton was and how to reunite with her son, surely that would resolve the situation.
She glanced across the room where the young woman played with Dalton. The girl was new to the household, hired only the week before to assist the much-older nanny.
“Ellie, how old are you?”
The young woman turned. “I’m sixteen, ma’am.”
Evie nodded. “And how did you come to be hired?”
The dark-haired girl looked away. “My mother died when I was quite young and my sister took charge of me. Then she went west with her husband last year. My sister’s mother-in-law is Mrs.
Shevlin.”
“My housekeeper?”
“Uh-huh. She knew I needed work.”
“Why did your family not take you with them?”
“It was too costly. My sister arranged for me to stay with friends, but that didn’t work out. The husband . . . well . . . he was . . .”
She fell silent, her face turning several shades of red.
“I think I understand,” Evie said softly. “There’s no need to go into detail.”
Ellie repositioned Dalton on the blanket and handed him a toy.
“My sister cried and cried when she left. They really didn’t want to leave me, and they had plans to send for me.”
“Where are they now?” Evie asked.
“Sacramento. My brother-in-law, Bill, got work with the railroad there. My sister cleans house for one of the wealthy families in the area. She said as soon as they have enough saved up, they will arrange for me to take the train west.”
“So you don’t plan to be long with us?”
Ellie looked up with an expression of horror. “I didn’t mean it that way. Please don’t dismiss me.”
Realizing how much she’d upset the girl, Evie shook her head.
“I have no desire to dismiss you.” Evie didn’t want to say too much, especially since she really wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
Nanny Hubble entered the room as silent as a mouse. She glanced at Evie and then Ellie. “Bring him along. It’s time for his bath,” she instructed.
Ellie picked up the baby and brought him to Evie for a kiss.
It was their routine every evening. “Sweet boy. You be good now.” She kissed his chubby cheek and laughed when he grabbed her nose.
Once Ellie and Mrs. Hubble had gone, Evie began to consider what she could do. She heard the clock on the mantel chime and knew her maid would soon appear to help her dress for dinner.
Crossing into her bedroom, Evie went to her wardrobe and pulled out a beautiful gown of green silk. She placed it carefully atop the bed. It was only moments before her maid knocked upon the bedroom door.
“Are you ready to prepare for dinner, ma’am?”
“Yes, come in. I’ll wear that.” She pointed to the bed.
The young woman gave a curtsy and helped Evie out of her day dress. Once she’d finished disrobing, Evie accepted the additional petticoat offered by the woman.