Alexei shrugged. “Because it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to take it.”
“Is it what Sacha said? Would you be working for Mr. Farnsworth at his shipyard?” Maggie asked.
“It’s managing his shipyard, yes.” Alexei shoved another bite of food into his mouth.
“Would it pay well?” Mikhail had gone from leaning forward to sitting back in his chair as he analyzed Alexei.
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going.”
“Let me try to understand. One of the wealthiest shipbuilders on the Pacific Coast offered you a fancy job filled with money and invited you to move down there where you’ll be near the daughter he can’t seem to marry off?” Mikhail crossed his armsover his chest. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one who sees where this is going.”
Alexei threw up his hands. “It’s not going anywhere because I’m not going to take it. I’m not leaving Alaska or any of you.”
“There was a time when that was the only thing you wanted.” Sacha wiped his beard with his napkin.
Alexei just shook his head. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Yuri leaned back in his chair. “I was already trying to picture you in one of those San Francisco suits with a stiff collar, shiny shoes, and no wood chips in sight. I doubt even a merry heart could survive that.”
Mikhail snorted into his coffee, and Bryony tried to hide a grin behind her hand.
“Don’t worry,” Yuri added, eyes dancing as Alexei scowled at him. “We’d have sent care packages—bits of sawdust and sea salt—just to remind you where you belong.”
Alexei just shook his head. “They’ll be no need for care packages filled with sawdust, I assure you. I was never meant to have what I wanted to have in San Francisco with Clarise. I have no desire to move down there now. I feel bad for Laurel more than anything. I can’t promise there’s something romantic there, but I can’t promise there’s not.” He moved his hand to his chest, rubbing his palm back and forth over his breastbone. “That will take some time to figure out, but the one thing I know is that I’m not leaving Sitka.”
He took a sip of water, then raised his eyes and moved them around the table. “But there is something of interest all of you should know. While I was in San Francisco, I sent a telegram to Secretary Gray about the villages of Klawock and Kasaan being forced to relocate and Governor Caldwell requiring anyone who trades with an Indian village to register as an Indian agent. The secretary sent me a telegram back almost immediately. He hadno idea any of this was happening, and he’ll be returning to Alaska to look into these matters himself.”
“He will?” Yuri raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t think he cared what happened here, as long as it doesn’t mess up something he’s trying to do in Washington, DC.”
“He cares if he thinks whatever’s happening will lead to poorer relations with the tribes,” Alexei answered. “He wants them to relinquish their claim to tribal lands and move to larger cities and villages. He’s likely concerned that whatever the new governor is up to will hinder that.”
“Wonder what the governor will say when Gray arrives.” Mikhail took a sip of coffee.
“He’ll probably find a way to impound another ship or take away another one of our contracts,” Alexei muttered.
“Let’s hope that’s all he does.” Bryony had gotten up from the table and was starting to dish out cake.
“Enough about this mess.” Alexei took the cake Bryony handed him and cut into it with the side of his fork. “What happened here while I was gone? Anything I should know about?”
“Nothing.” Yuri scooped up his last bite of potatoes. “It was nothing other than boring.”
Mikhail smirked. “Yuri didn’t even try to finish your audit, and I think he only answered half of your correspondence. I hope you’re planning to work twelve hours or better for the next week.”
Yuri held up his hands. “Look, I’m happy to help with the family business. Really. I’ll move down to San Francisco and manage the new shipyard, and you can send me to Portland or Seattle to see if I can procure shipping contracts there. Just don’t ask me to check shipping manifests against warehouse inventory. All those numbers are enough to drive a man insane.”
A knock sounded at the back door. Yuri exchanged a glance with Mikhail. It was strange to have someone knocking in the middle of dinner, and especially at the kitchen door. A person would have had to cross through the tree-lined backyard to reach it.
The knock sounded again, and Sacha started to push back his chair. “Let me see?—”
“It’s probably for me.” Alexei was already standing. He was seated closest to the door anyway, and he reached it in only a few seconds.
But despite the fact everyone was curious about their unexpected visitor, he only opened the door partway, his body blocking their view.
“Can I help you?” Confusion laced Alexei’s voice.
Yuri was half tempted to stand and go to the door, just to see who it was, rather than eat his cake. Then the person at the door spoke.
“Is Yuri here?”
