[Song of Alaska 02] - Morning's Refrain by Tracie Peterson Page A

who wasn’t on his guard. Your brothers are men who have spent their lives learning the art of manipulation. They are devious and conniving, and I have no reason to believe they have changed. I don’t know them like your mother once did, but it would be wise to listen to her counsel. If you plan to go to them—to get to know them better—I ask only that you talk to your mother first. Heed her warnings and truly consider whether the changes you are making are going to be worth the price you’ll pay.”

    Phoebe sat opposite her father at the dining table. Mother had hired a local Russian woman to cook and clean, and her father was not at all pleased.
    “You should have consulted me,” he told her.
    “I thought the running of the household was to be my responsibility,” her mother replied. “I have certain obligations and duties and cannot possibly hope to keep up with everything. The woman will not be living with us, so she needn’t get in your way.”
    “Still, you know how I feel about strangers being amongst our things.”
    Phoebe had heard the argument with every move they’d made. Sooner or later, her mother would simply find a girl, despite her husband’s protests.
    “Her name is Darya Belikov. She comes highly recommended by Mrs. Lindquist. Darya is the wife of a local boat builder and has four children of her own. They live just three blocks away. She will come around noon each day and clean the house, then prepare our dinner. I’ll still be taking care of breakfast and the noon meal, so stop fretting.”
    “With two grown women in the house, hired help should be unnecessary.”
    Phoebe’s mother smiled. “Yes, but I also have three men who care nothing for picking up after themselves and certainly have no talent at mending, laundry, or candle making.”
    Tired of the battle, Phoebe’s father blew out a heavy breath and pushed away from the table. “I suppose if it must be.” He got to his feet. “I won’t be home until late. Lyman and I have a great many things to see to, not the least of which is a meeting we shall attend with a group of naval officials.” He leaned over and kissed Phoebe’s mother on the head. “I do hope you have a good day, my dear.”
    Once he’d gone, Phoebe picked up the breakfast plates and headed for the tiny kitchen. She had lived in much bigger houses in the past and found this small, run-down place to be adequate at best—that’s all that could be said for it.
    “I would think,” she said as Mother joined her with the last of the breakfast things, “that Father would weary of this argument.
    You have the same conversation with each move.”
    Mother laughed. “I suppose we do. Still, it’s his way. He knows we will have a cook and housekeeper, but he doesn’t like it. He fears that someone might learn something about him that would cause scandal for his friend.”
    “But Father has an impeccable reputation,” Phoebe said, shaking her head. “He’s never been in trouble.”
    “Everyone has things in their past that they are ashamed to admit to. Your father is no different. His family background does not always complement the man he’s become today.”
    Phoebe knew about her grandfather’s underhanded dealings and even the jail time he had served. He had owned a bank, and Phoebe’s father had worked for him. When it came out that Grandfather had swindled a great many people, it was presumed that her father was also guilty. It seemed that society was only too happy to wrap future generations in the sins of their fathers.
    “Well, I can’t imagine that anyone in this isolated place would even care, much less try to use Father’s family against him.”
    “Still, it grieves him. He had such high expectations for his future. If not for that bad fate, he might be the governor here or even president one day. At the very least, he might still own the bank his father started. Those who know the truth aren’t about to let him forget, and those who want to