[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain

by Tracie Peterson

  “I suppose you’re telling Phoebe all about your money, as well.

  Well, I may not have money, but I like her, too, and you knew that. You talk about being friends, but then you do this.” He walked up to Dalton and pushed him backward again. “You can’t go around buying everything or everyone.”

  “I wasn’t trying to buy anyone, Yuri. You aren’t listening to me, and you aren’t making sense. Calm down. We can talk about this later.” Dalton rubbed his cheek. “Fighting isn’t going to solve anything.”

  Phoebe fairly held her breath. The two men were nose to nose once again, and Yuri showed no sign of backing down. This time, however, when he raised his arm to deliver a blow, Dalton was ready for him.

  “Knock it off, Yuri,” Dalton said, taking hold of his fist. “I’m not going to fight you. This is ridiculous. You’re just mad because I don’t want to play games anymore.”

  “I’m mad because you’re a liar and a cheat.” He pulled away and paced back a few steps. Casting a glance at Phoebe, he addressed her. “Do you want that kind of a man for a husband? Are you going to let him buy your love?”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Phoebe said, shaking her head. She looked to Dalton. “What is going on?”

  “Oh, so you haven’t told her yet, is that it? Did I come too soon?” Yuri asked sarcastically. “Dalton is rich—wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. His mother inherited a fortune and placed it in trust for him. Now he wants to buy my father’s business and steal my inheritance.”

  “That isn’t true.” For the first time, Phoebe could hear the anger in Dalton’s voice. “If you aren’t going to be honest about this, Yuri, you might as well leave.”

  “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready, and it won’t be until after I knock some of that pride out of you.” Yuri charged at Dalton, and the two crashed to the ground.

  Phoebe let out a short yelp as if someone had stepped on her toes. Jumping down from the rock, she called for them to stop fighting, but neither one heard her.

  “You can’t act this way,” she insisted. “This isn’t right.”

  They were back on their feet, each throwing punches at the other. Sometimes they connected, but mostly they didn’t. For this, Phoebe was relieved.

  “Please stop!”

  “I trusted you,” Yuri shouted. “My father brought you in to teach you a trade, and this is how you repay us.”

  “You aren’t thinking clear,” Dalton answered, plugging his fist into Yuri’s stomach.

  Yuri doubled over with a groan but quickly recovered. He was charging back at Dalton when everything seemed to go horribly wrong, and Phoebe found herself somehow in the middle of the action. Without warning, she was thrown to the ground as the two men plowed past her and bounced off the rock where she’d been sitting only moments earlier.

  For a moment, the wind was knocked from her lungs and Phoebe felt a sensation of panic. She swallowed hard and forced herself to breathe. Dalton and Yuri were at her side in a flash. Both looked mortified that she had been caught in the fracas.

  Dalton reached down to help her up as Yuri began to apologize.

  “I’m sorry, Phoebe. Are you hurt?”

  She felt Dalton’s gentle touch on her back as he steadied her.

  Phoebe drew another breath and nodded. “I . . . don’t think . . . so.”

  Dalton turned a piercing glare on Yuri. “You’ve caused enough trouble. You need to go.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re the one who started this fight. Now I’m finishing it.

  Phoebe could have been hurt—badly. You didn’t even care that she was right here.”

  “Don’t play the innocent one,” Yuri countered. “You knew she was here, as well.”

  “Go.” Dalton’s tone left Phoebe little doubt he would finish not only the fight, but the friendship, as well, if Yuri didn’t leave.

  “Please go, Yuri. I don’t want to see you two fight anymore,” Phoebe begged.

  Yuri glanced at her for a moment, then fixed Dalton with a hateful look. “You’ll be sorry, Dalton. Wait and see if you aren’t.” He stormed off, muttering as he went.

  Assessing Phoebe for a moment, Dalton asked, “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She nodded. “I think I should go home. I’m sorry to have been the cause of all of this.”

  “You aren’t to blame for anything,” Dalton said as he walked with her toward the road. “Yuri is volatile in his anger. He’ll calm down and feel really bad for how he’s acted. He’s just feeling put out right now.”

  “I’m sorry, nevertheless,” Phoebe said. “You’ve been friends for so long. He told me about some of the great adventures you used to have together. I can tell he really admires you—cares about you. I’d hate to see you throw that away.”

  “We won’t,” Dalton replied. “He just needs time to think through things. I’m sure he’s worried about his parents leaving for Russia in the spring. I had hoped that buying into the business and becoming his partner would give him a sense of confidence that he could remain here and do well. I guess I misjudged his feelings on the matter.”

  Phoebe nodded. “Well, I will pray for you both. Good friends are hard to come by.”

  Dalton said nothing more, and when they reached Phoebe’s house, she invited him in. “Would you like to join us for the noontime meal?”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be good company. I’m sorry, Phoebe.” His tone held something akin to regret.

  “I’m sorry, too.” But she wasn’t entirely sure why. Had he been about to propose? That hardly seemed possible. He had only just returned from his trip.

  “I would like to call on you again,” he said, his expression softening.

  Phoebe couldn’t help but gaze deep into his eyes. “I’d like that very much.”

  He nodded. “Good day, then.” Walking away, he didn’t so much as turn back to offer her a smile.

  She watched him for several minutes, longing to run after him. It was never easy to see friends at odds with each other, but the situation seemed even more painful because she was in the middle of it.

  Turning to go inside, Phoebe was unprepared for what she found there. Her mother was in tears, and her father was standing in silence at the fireplace. She saw that Theodore and Grady were peeking out to watch from the hallway. What in the world was going on?

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  Her mother looked up most mournfully. “Your father . . . he . . .”

  She burst into tears anew and buried her face in her hands.

  Phoebe turned to her father. “What is it?”

  He looked at her as if his world had somehow crumbled. “I no longer work with the governor.”

  Chapter 19

  What are you saying, Mr. Belikov?”

  Dalton looked at the older man with a frown. Belikov shook his head. His expression was one of sheer misery.

  “I don’t know what to say, Dalton. Yuri wants no part of a shared business with you. He’s angry over that woman you both like—the one you want to marry.”

  “And that’s a reason to throw away a perfectly good business arrangement?” Dalton was livid. Yuri had promised he’d be sorry.

  The older man wrung his hands and shook his head again. “I can’t dishonor my son by going through with something that will cause such division. He said he would walk away from the family business altogether if I sold you half an interest.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Dalton said.

  “It’s . . . well . . . it’s worse than just that.”

  Dalton eyed him suspiciously. “How so?”

  “I . . . have to . . . you see . . .” He blew out a long breath and rubbed his forehead. “I have to let you go. You can no longer work for me.”

  Dalton stared at the man in dumbfounded silence. How could Yuri be so vindictive? They’d been friends since they were small. Why would Yuri be willing to just throw that away?

  Mr.
Belikov was going on about something, but Dalton couldn’t hear the words for the racing of his own thoughts. What should he do now? It seemed no matter what direction he took, he found himself displaced.

  “I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” Mr. Belikov relayed. “Yuri is my son, however. I cannot lose him. He swore to me that if I didn’t let you go, he would leave for the south and never be heard from again. His mother was in tears. She wants him to return with us to Russia.” He muttered several incoherent words and raised his hands toward the sky. “I don’t know what is to be done.”

  “I understand your position,” Dalton admitted. “I just don’t see how he can let this come between us. It’s not like him.”

  Mr. Belikov nodded. “I’m sorry to say that while you were gone, he fell into bad company. His new friends are not a good influence on him. When Miss Robbins voiced her anger with him, Yuri . . . well . . . I’m afraid he took to drink.”

  Dalton felt a sorrow he couldn’t explain. Yuri had always been the type to experiment with such things. As boys, they had been caught sampling some Tlingit hoochinoo or hooch, as most called it. Father had paddled Dalton soundly, then explained why it was so critical he stay away from such things. Dalton had never forgotten his father’s words: “Alcohol has a way of taking hold of you. At first it convinces you of all the wonderful things it has to offer, but it isn’t long before you are trapped by its seduction. Once this happens, getting away from it is not only difficult, it’s often impossible.”

  He had taken his father’s advice to heart, but Yuri had always been a rebel. Dalton knew his friend had a drink on occasion. Was it possible that this was the real cause of his sudden change?

  I haven’t been here for a long time, Dalton realized. And if I’m honest with myself, Yuri wasn’t himself even before I left. There were many little things that Dalton had tried to ignore. Yuri not finishing jobs. Yuri arguing more with his father. Yuri sneaking out from work to do who knew what. Yuri might well have given himself over to drinking, and maybe it had been for a lot longer than anyone realized. Seeing that Mr. Belikov was waiting for him to say something, Dalton offered him a smile.

  “This isn’t your fault. You have to be true to your family. I will be all right.”

  Belikov nodded. “I don’t know what will happen. We most likely won’t have the money to leave in the spring as I had hoped.”

  Dalton thought of the vast fortune he owned. He could already access a portion of the money, and it wouldn’t be all that long before he turned twenty-one and all of the inheritance would belong to him.

  “If I can help you, I will,” Dalton promised. “Yuri doesn’t need to know about it. You took me in and taught me a trade, Mr. Belikov. I won’t easily forget that.”

  The older man’s face contorted as he fought his emotions. “You are a good man, Dalton Lindquist. I am blessed to know you.”

  “I’ll get my things and leave. I don’t want to further upset Yuri. Maybe in time he will speak to me about this and what’s really bothering him.”

  “I hope so.”

  Dalton gathered his tools and packed them neatly in a small crate. For now, he would take them over to the sawmill. Then when his father was available, they could come by and pick them up. He knew Joshua wouldn’t mind.

  His heart was heavy as he walked away from Belikov Boat Builders. He remembered the first time Mr. Belikov had put him to work sanding. The memory was a good one; he and Yuri had enjoyed the task. It hadn’t seemed at all like work.

  After leaving his things with Joshua, Dalton made his way on foot to the structure he knew his father would be working on. The house, not far from the coastline, was positioned a little higher on the side of the mountain. Father had nearly finished the place with the help of his Tlingit workers. Little by little, the Tlingits were returning to the village, and Dalton knew his father was happy to have them working with him again.

  “I didn’t expect to see you today.” Kjell took one look at Dalton and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Mr. Belikov had to let me go. Yuri doesn’t want me working there anymore. He doesn’t want me to buy into the business, either.”

  “What happened?”

  Dalton sat down on a nearby sawhorse. “I’m not sure I entirely know. It began when we both voiced an interest in Phoebe. But the stakes are much higher in this case than the adolescent competitions we once played at. I don’t think Phoebe is the only reason it happened, however. Mr. Belikov said Yuri has fallen in with a bad crowd. He’s taken to drinking.”

  “It’s easy enough to do,” Father said.

  “Yuri has been slowly changing over the last year, but it’s only now I’ve allowed myself to see it. I feel like maybe if I’d paid more attention, things wouldn’t be so bad now.”

  “You can’t be responsible for what Yuri chooses to do.”

  Dalton paced a few steps, slapping his hands against his sides.

  “I know that, but we’ve been friends for so long. Why is he letting this come between us? We’ve argued before, but it never lasts. But he’s so angry this time, and I can’t help but think that the difference is Phoebe.”

  “So what will you do?”

  He stopped and looked at his father. “That’s why I came to talk to you. I’m not sure what direction to take. I still want to have my own business, but I don’t want to cause problems for Mr. Belikov or for Yuri.”

  “Perhaps Yuri’s jealous, Dalton. You got the girl and a fortune. Maybe he’s afraid it will change you.”

  “But he’s the one who has changed,” Dalton countered. “Not only that, but it started before Phoebe ever arrived. I can see that now.”

  “You could come to work with me for a time,” Father offered. “It might give you a chance to clear your mind. On the other hand, maybe it’s time for you to make your own plans.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Two men moved past them carrying a door. “We hang now, yes?” one of them said to Kjell.

  “Yes. Go ahead. I’ll come check it when you’re finished.” The men nodded and moved on. Kjell turned back to Dalton. “It’s nearly October. You could set up your own small place. I could help you build it. You wouldn’t have the wherewithal to build the bigger boats, but maybe you could start small. Spend the winter building some skiffs or prams. Folks are always needing them around here.”

  “I don’t have nearly all the equipment I’d need,” Dalton told him. “I’d have to order up stuff from Seattle.”

  “Or go there yourself and get it,” Father replied. “You might find the time by yourself will help you to see things straight.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but having just come home, Mother won’t be happy to see me go again.”

  Father brushed some sawdust from his trousers. “Your mother will understand. Besides, she has your sisters to keep her busy.”

  Dalton grinned. “That’s a full-time job, to be sure.” He looked at the house his father had been working on. “It looks good.”

  “We’re finishing up today,” he replied. “It’s for the judge.”

  “Sitka has come a long way. We’ve got judges and a new U.S. marshal due any day. All sorts of law and order,” Dalton mused.

  “Just like a regular civilized town.”

  “It’s an exciting time. And just think, you get to start a business right in the midst of it all.” Father got up and stretched. “Well, it’s back to work for me. Are you heading home?”

  “I wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping you, if you don’t mind.”

  Father laughed. “The more the merrier.”

  Phoebe sat down with her parents at the kitchen table. With her brothers off to school, she felt it was important to gain a full understanding of what was going on. Apparently there had been a discussion last night, and it had been determined that for the sake of the governor’s desire to seek a higher office in the years to come, her father would sever their working relationship.

  “He didn’t ask m
e to do so,” Father explained. “It’s just that I can never tell when the past will rear its ugly head and expose me. It isn’t fair to Lyman.”

  “But Lyman promised to stand by you,” Phoebe’s mother said, shaking her head. “How could he just let you go?”

  “Like I said, he didn’t want to.” Phoebe watched her father stare sadly into his coffee cup. He seemed so lost—so confused.

  “What will we do, Father?” She was terrified of the answer, but she had to ask the question.

  “I don’t know. My entire life has revolved around banking or politics. Now I cannot embrace either one.”

  Mother dabbed a handkerchief to her eyes. “It’s so unfair. Why should we bear the marks of your father’s misdeeds?”

  “I’ve brought this shame on my family,” Phoebe’s father said, shaking his head. “I must be the one to deliver us from it.”

  “If I may be so bold, it seems God is the one who will do that, Father.” Phoebe offered him a smile. “I don’t know how or when, but God is faithful.”

  “God has deserted me,” her father replied. “No, I should have borne evidence against my father at the trial. Had I made a better stand against what he did, people would not question my involvement. They wouldn’t believe me to still hold the money my father swindled from them and the bank.” He got to his feet. “My mind is made up.”

  “On what?” Phoebe’s mother asked.

  “I will go to California. You will remain here while I seek employment and a means to support this family. I will take the money we’ve managed to put aside and find us a small house. Once things are settled, I will send for you. It shouldn’t be more than a few weeks. Lyman assured me he would see to your expenses during that time.”

  “You’ve already discussed this with Lyman?” Her mother’s tone was edged with hysteria. “Why did you not discuss this with me first?”

  “You always knew it was a possibility. I needed to make plans and have them in place before trying to explain them to anyone else.”