Chapter 19
Sitka; the Next Day
By the time Yuri strode into the meeting room at the old governor’s mansion the next evening, his eyes felt as though they’d been coated in sand.
It probably had something to do with how late he’d stayed up the night before, first reading his Bible and then poring over every last paper in the office to see if it might give him some clue as to how he could get Rosalind away from her father.
Or better yet, give him some clue regarding a crime her father committed that could get him locked in a jail cell so he couldn’t hurt Rosalind.
He’d come up with nothing.
He knew Preston Caldwell had done underhanded things over the years. His brother, the governor, was no different. But proving it in a court of law was something else entirely.
Everyone that family hired to do their dirty work was paid too well to ever confess the Caldwells’ involvement, even men who were currently sitting in prison.
Mikhail and Bryony had both joined him after dinner last night, all of them wanting to find some way that might prevent Caldwell from going after Rosalind if they helped her get away.
After he’d returned home from the temporary library, he’d told them everything about his conversation with Rosalind in the empty building, her bruises, the source of the donation money, and the real reason Rosalind wouldn’t leave Sitka. All of it.
The only part he’d left out was how badly he’d wanted to pull Rosalind against his chest and hold her, just so she could know what it felt like to be safe, even if the embrace lasted only a few minutes.
“Sorry I’m late.” Yuri opened his satchel and pulled out the agenda and his notes from last week.
“It’s all right. We were just talking about shelves.” Angus McCreedy rubbed the back of his neck. “Rosalind says she’s been to the temporary building, and we need more in there, so—”
“Actually, the first thing I want to discuss is the name.” Yuri set his papers down and plopped into the chair at the head of the table.
“We’re going to temporarily name the library after its largest local contributors, Preston and Simon Caldwell.
Meaning the library will be called the Caldwell Memorial Library. ”
“We’re what?” Arthur Bixby’s pencil clattered to the table.
“I thought you said we should bring our list of names and vote.” Mrs. Pembroke sniffed. “That’s the fair way to do it. I have mine right here.” She patted the folded sheet of stationery in front of her.
“I changed my mind,” Yuri snapped, his words causing the room to go still. “Once we have a plot purchased and construction on the new building is underway, we can revisit the subject.”
“How much is Caldwell paying you to do this?” Bixby growled.
Yuri didn’t meet the other man’s gaze. Instead, his eyes drifted to Rosalind. It was the first time he’d dared to look at her since walking into the room. He expected her to be sitting there with her head ducked and hands hidden on her lap, just as she had for the previous meeting.
But she was looking straight at him, a panicked look in her eyes. “No. You can’t do this. You said we would vote. It needs to be fair.”
That’s what he’d thought too, until he realized there was a very good chance Rosalind would end up with more than just an injured wrist if the library wasn’t named after her father.
“See?” McCreedy slapped his palm on the table. “Not even Rosalind wants the library named after her family.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Mr. Bixby had leaned over next to Rosalind and was looking at the paper on the table in front of her. “All three of the ideas listed on her paper here have Caldwell in the name.”
Mrs. Pembroke tilted her nose in the air, somehow managing to look down at Yuri and glare at the same time, never mind he was a good eight inches taller than the petite woman.
“And here I thought you would be a fair and honorable president of the library committee. Mr. Bixby already asked how much Preston is paying you to do this, and I want to know the same thing.”
He pressed his lips together. The others could think whatever they wanted. The truth was, he had a biblical obligation to help Rosalind. Psalm 82:3–4 was clear. Defend the poor and fatherless: do justice to the afflicted and needy. Deliver the poor and needy: rid them out of the hand of the wicked.
The Bible itself asked that he do justice and rid the needy out of the hand of the wicked There were only a handful of ways he could do that when it came to Rosalind, and he was going to take full advantage of each and every one of them.
Later, after Rosalind was far away from Sitka, the library committee could revisit the name issue in earnest. Hopefully Rosalind would have decided to leave Sitka on her own, but if not, at least she would be married and far enough away from her father that he couldn’t hurt her.
In the meantime, he didn’t care whether everyone else argued or assumed Caldwell had paid him off.
Rosalind gripped her hands together under the table. She’d come to the meeting tonight with so many ideas, and now she couldn’t voice a single one of them, not when everyone was mad at her.
But they weren’t nearly as mad as she was. Fury boiled in her chest every time she looked at Yuri.
What did he think he was doing, barging in late with red-rimmed eyes and a stubbled jaw that made him look like he hadn’t even bothered to shave, then announcing that the library would be named after her family?
Except she knew what he was doing. Of course she did.
He was trying to protect her.
And maybe she should thank him for that, but somehow that only made her angrier.
Because now the rest of the committee wouldn’t even look her in the eye, and no one was inclined to listen to a word she said.
All she’d wanted was for them to consider her ideas, like they had at the last meeting when she suggested purchasing a waterfront plot.
But Yuri’s pronouncement about the library name set everything off on the wrong note, and now no one could agree on anything.
They argued over chairs and shelf height and donation lists, and Rosalind didn’t get more than two sentences out the entire time.
When Yuri finally ended the meeting, she shot to her feet, ready to bolt toward the door, but Yuri’s voice stopped her.
“Rosalind, can you stay back a moment?”
More heat filled her veins, but she stilled.
Mrs. Pembroke sniffed again, then headed for the door, her nose high enough that she just might drown if it started raining.
Mr. McCreedy and Mr. Bixby followed without appearing to think much of the two of them being left alone.
The second the door clicked shut behind Mr. Bixby, she whirled on Yuri. “How could you?”
Yuri blinked. “How could I what? Name the library after your family? You know very well why I did it.”
“Now everyone hates me.” She despised the tremble in her voice, but she didn’t know how to get rid of it.
“They don’t hate you. They hate me.” Yuri jabbed a thumb at his chest. “I’m the one who did it.”
“You might be the one who forced everyone into giving you your way, but I’m the one they blame for it.” Tears filled her eyes, but she pushed them away. It was ridiculous to want to cry. Yuri hadn’t hurt her, so why did what he’d done feel more painful than her father’s fists?
“Hey, don’t cry.” He crossed the distance between them in two large steps.
“I’m not.”
“There’s a tear streaking down your cheek, Ros.”
Confound it! She pressed her eyes shut, but that only caused another tear to slip from her eye.
He lifted a hand to her cheek and swiped at her tear with his thumb. “Will you let me take you away from here yet?” he whispered.
She shook her head. “No, but I’m working on it. I promise.”
“That’s what you said yesterday. How are you working on it? Did you write your charities and tell them they wouldn’t be receiving money from you for six months? Do you at least have letters for me to mail?”
“No.”
He dropped his hand. “I’m going to get you away from here, Rosalind.
I don’t care how many times I have to ask or how much nagging I have to do.
I don’t care if I have to storm into every library committee meeting for the next four months and do something outlandish and embarrassing.
You need to escape your father, and marrying the fiancé he picked for you isn’t a good way out. ”
She licked her lips. “I know. I just . . . There’s something I have to do first.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I absolutely do.”
She looked away, her gaze fixed on the ornate molding of the fireplace.
“I overheard my uncle and father talking about increasing the amount of bribe money they give to Marshal Hibbs every month. I know there’s proof of it somewhere inside my father’s study.
I want to find it and turn it over to your brother-in-law, the Deputy Marshal. ”
“What?” Yuri nearly shrieked the word, but when she turned back to face him, she found him stock-still.
“You might be confident that I can escape my father simply by leaving, but I’m not so sure. The fact that he’s bribing Alaska’s most prominent lawman feels like something I should prove before leaving. If my father’s in prison, he can’t steal my money or force me to marry Leeland.”
He shoved a hand into his hair. “You can’t tell me there’s a safe way to get that kind of information from your father. What if he finds you searching his study? What if he hurts more than just your wrist?”
“You’re the one who told me to ask God for strength and not to let my fear control me. What do you think I’m trying to do? Don’t attempt to scare me out of what I need to do. My father bribing the Marshal needs to be brought to light.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. That’s what she’d taken the verse from Isaiah 41 to mean? That God would protect her from her father while she tried to prove his involvement in a criminal activity?
He’d told her that verse to encourage her to leave Sitka, not to give her a reason to stay longer.
But should he really try to stop her from proving the bribery?
The entirety of Alaska suffered whenever Marshal Hibbs looked the other way for influential people committing a crime, and he’d done so more than once.
“Is there something specific you’re looking for?” he finally asked. “Or are you searching for a random slip of paper he accidentally left lying around?”
“My father records everything in ledgers. I’m sure there’s one that contains not just a record of the Marshal’s bribe money but a list of other people who have been bribed too. All I can tell you at the moment is that it’s not in his desk.”
She’s already searched her father’s desk? He fisted his hands at his side. “Rosalind . . .”
“You won’t get me to change my mind.” She lifted her chin.
He swallowed, every muscle of his body still tense.
“No. I don’t suppose I will.” He ran his eyes down her before bringing his gaze back up to meet hers again.
“At least promise me you’ll be careful. And if you ever feel like you’re in danger, or if your father catches you and figures out what you’re doing, I can have you away from Sitka within an hour.
We’ll leave on our skiff and go to Wrangell or Petersburg or Ketchikan, some small village where we can hide for a few weeks before taking you to a larger port. ”
“All right,” she whispered in return. “If I need to leave on short notice, I’ll send word through Millicent.”
“You promise?” he asked.
She pressed her lips together and sucked in a long breath before finally forming a reply. “Yes. I promise.”
His shoulders lost a bit of their tension, and the lines around his mouth softened. “Just don’t make me come for you too late.”
She nodded, then fled before she found herself accidently stepping into his arms and begging him to take her away from Sitka that very moment.