Page 30 of Echoes of Twilight (Dawn of Alaska #4)

30

“T ell me how this sounds,” Kate said. “If you would like a sample of Miss Wetherby’s journal, please send a return letter to my address in Sitka. Does that... Wait.”

Mikhail watched confusion creep over Kate’s face as she stared down at the letter she was transcribing for him, and he waited for the question he knew was coming.

“Why are you having the publisher send a letter to you all the way to Sitka when Miss Wetherby will be in Washington, DC?” Muted sunlight filled the window behind Kate, casting a pale glow over Alexei’s study where they’d gone to work after breakfast. “It will take at least two weeks to get here, then another two weeks for your letter to reach Miss Wetherby.”

He leaned his hip against the side of Alexei’s desk. “Because I don’t have Miss Wetherby’s address.”

He blamed that solely on the fact that Preston Caldwell’s butler hadn’t let him in the house last night when he and Yuri had called on Bryony. The straight-laced man hadn’t asked Bryony if she was willing to come to the door and speak with him on the porch either. The man had flat-out refused to notify her that he’d needed to speak with her, then threatened to send for the Marshal if he and Yuri didn’t stop trespassing on Caldwell property.

“Surely the Department of the Interior can give you Miss Wetherby’s address,” Kate continued. “Don’t you get contact information for everyone on your expeditions?”

Mikhail raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t need his sister’s meddling right now. Why couldn’t she just write the letter he was dictating?

Almost as though she could sense what he was going to say, she set the pen down and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not writing another word until you tell me what’s going on—all of it.”

He blew out a breath. How come his most stubborn sibling was the only one who knew about his word blindness? Did she think he hadn’t already gone over every possible way to handle this? “Fine. I have Bryony’s address, since she’s been living with her father and brother. But I expect that to change after she returns to Washington.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” Kate picked up her pen again and held it to the paper, but she didn’t start writing. She only turned to him with another frown on her face. “I still don’t understand. Won’t her father pass along the letter?”

He shoved a hand through his hair again, exhaling hard through his nose. If she would just stop interrogating him and finish the blasted letter, they might actually get somewhere. But no, she had to question every detail. As if she were the one who had spent weeks in the wilderness with Bryony. “Not every woman has family as accepting of women in the field of science as ours. Remember?”

Kate stood. “Are you telling me that her father doesn’t want her book to be published? What kind of man would withhold such an opportunity from his daughter? Besides, writing is a perfectly acceptable occupation for a woman. Just look at Jane Austen, Charlotte and Emily Bronte, Louisa May Alcott, Harriet Beecher?—”

“If Bryony were to procure a reliable income stream on her own, her father wouldn’t be able to marry her off to the next secretary of the interior.”

“Are you telling me her father is trying to force her into a marriage she doesn’t want?” Kate started pacing from one side of the room to the other. “Let me guess, this marriage will benefit him in some way.”

“That’s one part of it. The other part is what I told you last night. Bryony is quite talented when it comes to science, but no male scientist wants to see a woman’s name on anything, from a journal article to a field guide.”

“Which is why you’re writing this letter to the publisher on Miss Wetherby’s behalf.”

That and because he was tired of watching her fight to hold on to something that should never have been stolen from her in the first place. “If I thought she could submit her work on her own and have it published, I would simply give her the address, but no publisher is going to take a female field-guide writer seriously.” He headed to the window and stared out at the mountains lining the calm waters of the sound.

Kate came to stand beside him. “Perhaps both your names could go on the book.”

“I suppose that would be an improvement over having only a man’s name on her work, like what happened with her first five field guides.”

“What?” Kate jerked her gaze to his. “She didn’t get to put her own name on five of her books? And she was the one who wrote them?”

“Whose books are we talking about?” Yuri bounded into the room, a cup of coffee in hand. “Does this have something to do with Miss Wetherby? I’m still devastated I didn’t get to meet her last night. All we asked for was a simple meeting. The butler had no reason to send us away.”

Mikhail sent Yuri a dry look. “You can leave now.”

Yuri smirked, then settled into an open chair with his cup of coffee. “Leave when Kate’s getting worked up? Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Who’s this man that’s been falsely publishing Miss Wetherby’s work as his own?” Kate jabbed a finger into his chest. “I want a name, Mikhail. I mean it.”

“Wait. Someone’s been stealing Miss Wetherby’s work?” Yuri took an obnoxiously loud sip of his coffee. “This is more interesting than I thought. Is that what you wanted to talk to her about? And here I thought you were just heartsick.”

Mikhail threw up his hands. “I’m not heartsick.”

“What’s his name?” Kate dug the point of her finger deeper into his sternum.

Mikhail just shook his head. “Telling you won’t do any good. He died on the expedition.”

“The Caldwell fellow?” Yuri took another slurp of coffee. “He’s the one who was stealing Miss Wetherby’s work? I thought his father was a senator. Interesting...”

“I should have guessed it would be a Caldwell.” Kate threw her arms up, then went back to pacing. “All they do is cause trouble, but this is a new level of depravity, even for them.”

“Mind yourself.” Alexei stepped into the room, his dark eyes leveled at Kate.

When the next man entered behind Alexei, Mikhail realized why his older brother had been so stern.

Marshal Hibbs lumbered toward the open chair directly in front of Alexei’s desk, his breath puffing as though the walk to their house had taken too much effort.

Jonas then entered behind him, followed by Evelina, Nathan, and finally Sacha and Maggie.

Mikhail straightened. “What’s going on?”

“I have a few questions to ask you about Richard Caldwell’s death,” the Marshal answered.

“I’m happy to help.” Mikhail came around the side of the desk to shake the portly man’s hand. “Is there some kind of form you need me to fill out?”

It had been so long since someone died on one of his expeditions that he wasn’t sure what the exact procedure was.

“I’ll just start by asking some standard questions.” The Marshal settled into the chair, his tin star gleaming in the light from the window. “I’m sure you’re aware that Mr. Caldwell’s family will want answers.”

“Of course.” Mikhail took the chair across from the Marshal.

The room fell silent, and for a brief moment, he considered telling the rest of his family to leave. But they all probably had questions, and it seemed easiest to answer everything at once. Besides, Jonas was Marshal Hibbs’s Deputy Marshal, and Evelina was a lawyer. Having them present could be helpful.

Marshal Hibbs started at the very beginning, asking questions about how long it had taken Mikhail to find the lost botanists, why they’d gotten lost in the first place, and if he had any information about the grizzly attack that had claimed Jack’s life.

Mikhail left nothing out. A few gasps went around the room when he explained that Richard and Heath had left the rest of the party to search for gold, and that their actions ended up putting everyone in danger. But no one looked surprised when he explained that Richard perceived he knew more about surviving in the wilderness than he actually did.

Then he told the Marshal that Richard had pulled a gun on him.

Marshall Hibbs’s eyes sharpened, and he started writing in his notebook. “And Mr. Caldwell fell the day after he threatened you with his gun?”

Mikhail shifted. “Yes.”

“How did Mr. Caldwell’s threat make you feel?”

Again, he had the urge to shift, but this time he stopped himself. “Angry. I was doing everything in my power to get the team back to safety, and all Richard cared about was finding gold—even if it put everyone else at risk.”

“So you were angry with Mr. Caldwell when he died?” Marshall Hibbs adjusted his spectacles, watching him carefully.

He had been angry, yes. Not because of the gun but because of how cavalierly Richard had treated the safety of the others in the party. Because of how he’d been trying to strong-arm Bryony into marriage. Because of how he’d been stealing not only Bryony’s field guides but also the royalties she should have been earning from them.

But he had no clue who would end up reading this report back in Washington, DC, and he wouldn’t make public any information that Bryony might prefer kept private.

“There’s no question that Richard Caldwell was the most difficult person in the party to work with,” he found himself saying. “But it was my job to see that he returned to Sitka safely, the same as everyone else. I set aside all emotions so they wouldn’t interfere with doing that job.”

“So the fact Richard Caldwell threatened you with a gun didn’t make you want to retaliate?” Marshal Hibbs wet his lips and leaned forward in his chair.

“Excuse me, Marshal?” Evelina sent the man a kind smile, her voice somehow both calm and strong. “Is Mikhail being accused of a crime? Because it seems like these questions are moving into the realm of an interrogation, not a recounting of events.”

Marshal Hibbs looked down at his notebook, then blinked. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. I just want to make sure I have all the information correct before we discuss the next incident.”

“You have plenty of information about everything leading up to Richard’s death.” Mikhail gestured to the notebook. “The only thing I have left to tell you about is Richard’s fall.”

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He could still hear the sound of Richard’s scream if he thought about it, still recall the sickening sensation that had filled his gut when he realized Richard had lost his footing.

It wasn’t your fault. Bryony’s words from the night she’d woken him in the midst of a nightmare echoed through his mind.

But it still felt like his fault—like something he should have prevented somehow.

He couldn’t admit such a thing to the Marshal, though. The last thing he needed was to find himself standing trial for murder. He hadn’t actually up and killed the man; he just hadn’t been fast enough to stop him from falling.

“Richard fell the next day while trying to cross a canyon on a makeshift bridge I’d made by felling three trees and rolling them together.” His throat felt thick, and a gritty sensation crept into his eyes, but he forced himself to meet the Marshal’s gaze. “I asked Richard to cross first because next to me, he had the most wilderness experience, and I wanted someone on the opposite side who could help the others if needed. But Richard dashed out onto the bridge before I had finished giving the others instructions. Then he stopped walking. I told him to keep moving. As usual, Richard ignored everything I said. He stayed exactly where he was, examining something on the opposite side of the canyon, and while he was distracted, he lost his footing.”

Mikhail blew out a breath, his lungs feeling as though they were full of broken glass. “I wasn’t close enough to help. I tried to reach him and grab his arm, but I failed.”

“When Mr. Caldwell stopped walking, did he do or say anything to indicate that part of the bridge might be unsafe?” The Marshal’s voice was clinical and matter-of-fact, which made sense, considering the man had decades of experience as a lawman. This was hardly the first death he’d investigated.

But Mikhail still found himself sucking a small breath into his jagged lungs. For a fraction of a second, he’d been certain the Marshal would question him about what Richard had seen on the opposite side of the canyon that caused him to stop.

It seemed the man was focusing on the safety of the bridge instead. “No, Richard didn’t say or do anything to indicate he felt the bridge itself was unsafe. No one else from the party had difficulty crossing the bridge either. They all made it over the place where Richard fell without any problems.”

“Thank you for your statement. It clears things up.” Marshal Hibbs stared down at his notebook for a moment, then scratched behind his ear with his pencil. “I just have one other question. Do you remember what you said to Mr. Caldwell when he stopped walking?”

Mikhail’s muscles tensed for a fraction of a second, until he realized that he could answer the question without revealing the discovery of the gold vein. “As I said before, I told Richard to keep his eyes forward and keep moving.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Very well.” Marshal Hibbs closed his notebook and lumbered to his feet. “I’m happy to see you back home and safe. Even though one life was lost, I appreciate you bringing the others back safely. I think everyone’s aware that the expedition could have gone much, much worse after Mr. Ledman’s death.”

Mikhail stood. “Yes. There’s much to be thankful for.” Except after this conversation, he didn’t feel all that thankful for anything.

“Let me show you out, Marshal.” Jonas pushed himself away from where he’d been standing by the wall, then opened the study door.

A moment later, the men left the room together, conferring in the low, serious tones lawmen often used.

The second they were gone, Mikhail looked at Evelina. “Did I handle everything well?”

His sister’s brow furrowed. “Yes, though I didn’t like his line of questioning after he learned Caldwell pulled a gun on you.”

“Why didn’t you tell us the lout pulled a gun?” Sacha crossed his beefy, muscled arms.

“I would have beat him and left him for dead,” Yuri said with a yawn.

Mikhail shook his head. “Then you would’ve been charged with murder.”

Sacha coughed. “I’m not convinced our little brother is strong enough to beat another man.”

Yuri stood to his feet. “I’m a grown?—”

“I have a question.” Alexei’s clipped tone sliced through the growing argument. “I want to know why Richard stopped walking.”

Mikhail froze.

Alexei had all but made himself disappear during the interview, standing beside the window where no one bothered to pay attention to him.

“That’s the only part of your story that doesn’t make sense,” Alexei continued. “Richard Caldwell might have been annoying and obstinate, but he’s smart enough to know he should have kept walking.”

Leave it to his oldest brother to pick up on something that everyone else had missed. Mikhail scratched the back of his head. Still, they needed to talk about it—all of them, together. “He spotted a gold vein.”

Alexei’s head jerked up. “What?”

“The vein running through the canyon was clear as day, a metallic strip surrounded by milky white rock—quartz, I assume. The others were so shaken up by the time they crossed the canyon that I don’t think anyone else noticed it.”

Yuri straightened. “Is it a good vein?”

“Yes. It runs on both sides of the canyon, and it looks amazingly rich. But I don’t know what to do about it. Should I file a claim? And if I do, will people think I pushed Richard off the bridge to get the gold?”

“That would be nothing more than a lie.” Kate’s eyes flashed. “There’s no way you would kill a man over gold.”

“But a lot of people would, darling.” Nathan came up behind Kate and settled his hands on her shoulders. “That’s the problem.”

“One of us could file the claim,” Sacha said. “Then it would be harder for people to draw the connection between the discovery of the vein and where Richard died.”

“Perhaps,” Mikhail muttered.

“I haven’t heard any rumors about a new vein being discovered.” Alexei rubbed his chin. “If it’s as good as you say, and someone filed a claim, there would be talk.”

“I can go to the land office and ask if any new claims were filed yesterday or this morning,” Evelina offered. “That will tell us if someone else from the expedition figured it out.”

“No,” Alexei snapped. “If we start asking questions, people will suspect that Mikhail found gold somewhere on his expedition.”

“So what do you want to do?” Mikhail crossed to the window where Alexei stood. Was it just him, or was the room growing more stifling by the minute? “File the claim ourselves and start mining? You know what I think of mining.”

Alexei stroked a hand over his jaw. “If we don’t file a claim, someone else will eventually discover it and stake a claim for themselves.”

“We could always file the claim and sit on it until we figure out what we want to do,” Sacha suggested.

“I know.” Yuri snapped his fingers, his face brightening. “Let’s file a claim down in Seattle. There’s a federal land office there, and if we file it that far away, it will take a while for people in Alaska to learn of it.”

Mikhail leaned his shoulder against the side of the window and stared out at the mountains rising from the sound. The view was so beautiful. So pristine. What if gold were discovered in one of those mountains? The company that owned the mine would cut down trees and tear the mountain apart. Their chlorination plants and stamp mills would forever change the place he’d grown up.

“Mining takes everything that’s beautiful and good about Alaska and destroys it.” He turned to face his family. “I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Mining makes people ridiculously wealthy,” Yuri shot back. He’d left his chair at some point but was still nursing his cup of coffee.

“We don’t know how much gold is there.” This from Nathan, who’d been silent the entire time, but just like Alexei, the silence only meant he was thinking. “It could be only that one vein. There would probably be enough there to double your family’s coffers, but there might not be more than that.”

“I’m already working on doubling our coffers.” Alexei slid a paper with a sketch of a ship across his desk. “There’s a damaged barge in San Francisco that I want to buy. It will give us access to a steel-hulled ship like the larger shipping companies are using. We might not be able to build them in our shipyard, but there’s nothing preventing us from owning one—if we can get it at the right price.”

“A ship?” Mikhail studied the drawing. “Can we afford something like this?”

Alexei winced. “It will make things tighter than I’d like, but if we’re careful with our money over the next two years, then yes. We can not only afford it, but it will put us in a solid financial position.”

“Bet there’s enough gold in that vein to at least pay for a ship, right Mikhail?” Yuri slung an arm around his shoulder.

Mikhail shrugged it off, but his little brother wasn’t wrong. “Yes, there’s probably enough gold for that, though as soon as you start mining it, everyone in Alaska will figure out what we’ve discovered.”

“I vote we do as Yuri suggested and file the claim down in Seattle,” Kate said. “We won’t be able to do anything with it until the snow melts anyway. Then a couple of us can go there and scout it out, see if we want to try mining it.”

Mikhail looked around the room. He’d be gone on an expedition by that time of year and wouldn’t be able to take his family to the canyon, but that didn’t really matter. They might not be as experienced as he was in the wilderness, but they were savvy enough.

And as much as he wanted to ignore the gold vein and keep it hidden from the world, Alexei was right about someone else finding it eventually.

He might as well claim it for his family first.