Free Dawn's Prelude by Tracie Peterson Page A

you sent about your father and husband dying. I knew you wanted to come north but didn’t figure to see you so soon. I thought you’d still be laying plans for the trip.”
    Lydia studied her aunt. She was different than she remembered. At forty-five, Zerelda Rockford was a most unconventional woman. She had given her hair a blunt cut at the shoulder, and it gave her face an angular appearance.
    “Here, she can have this room,” Zerelda said, opening the door.
    Kjell followed her in and deposited Lydia on the bed. “Is there anything I can do to help you out? You need wood brought in, Zee?”
    “That would be good. You can build up the fire, too. The day has a chill, and we need to keep Liddie warm.”
    “I’m really not helpless,” Lydia said when her aunt began unbuttoning her suit jacket.
    “You look pretty bad off. Your eyes are sunken. I’d say your fluids are depleted, and you probably haven’t had a decent bit of food in a while,” Zerelda said. She smiled down at her niece. “You look just as you did as a girl. I can’t believe so much time has passed.”
    “A lifetime of nightmares,” Lydia whispered. “And now this. I haven’t been able to keep food down since we set sail. It was all just too much.”
    “Well, it’s behind you now. I’ll take good care of you, and soon you’ll be up and running. You bring that violin of yours?”
    Lydia was so exhausted that she’d not even given it much consideration. “I did. Can we ask Kjell to bring it in?”
    “Of course.”
    “There were times the violin was all that got me through the bad times. Floyd was so . . .” Her words trailed into silence.
    Zerelda stroked her hair. “I know, and I’m so sorry. Had I any say in the matter, I would have convinced Zachary to send you to me rather than to sell you off in marriage.” She shook her head. “But despite the man’s poor judgment, I can’t believe he’s gone.”
    “My father thought he was doing the best for the family, I’m sure. He wrote me a letter of apology before he died. I’m not entirely sure I forgive him, but I am happy to say he left me enough money to comfortably live out my years.”
    Zerelda helped Lydia from her jacket and then unfastened the button on her skirt. “Doesn’t do a body any good to withhold forgiveness. The devil is the only one who stands to gain anything from that.”
    “Then the devil gained a great deal in the Gray household. You’ve never met more vindictive people, and forgiveness isn’t a word in their vocabulary.”
    “Your letters truly painted an ugly picture.” Zerelda went to the foot of the bed. “Take hold of the bed frame.”
    Lydia did as she was instructed while Zerelda pulled her skirt off. Lydia barely had the strength to hold on to the iron post. The coolness that swept over her body made Lydia realize her condition. Lying there in her petticoats, chemise, and corset, she felt almost naked. What if that man Kjell returned?
    As if reading her niece’s mind, Zerelda went to the door and closed it before retrieving a nightgown from the trunk at the foot of the bed. “This should be a great deal more comfortable.” Without asking Lydia’s permission, Zerelda unhooked her corset. Lydia tried to sit up, but dizziness washed over her anew.
    “The room won’t stop spinning.”
    “Sometimes it’s like that,” Zerelda said. “Some folks get what they call motion sick.”
    She maneuvered the rest of Lydia’s clothes from her body, then placed the nightgown over her head. Lydia found she barely had the strength to put her arms through. She fell back against the pillow and sighed.
    “Goodness, but you’re skin and bones. I’ll get some soup going for you as soon as I have you tucked into bed.”
    “I can’t eat,” Lydia said, feeling sick at the thought.
    “You’ll be able to take a little soup. I have a special recipe that helps with the nausea. Then I’ll give you some tea to help you sleep. You’ll see,” Zerelda said,