Twilight's Serenade

by Tracie Peterson

  She smiled. “She looks just like you.”

  He nodded. “I was never quite sure she was mine until I saw her today.”

  “But why, Yuri? Surely Marsha would have said otherwise. Besides, you were married.”

  “Ah, Britta, you’re so innocent. I shouldn’t be this open with you, but we’ve been friends for a long while. You’re like a sister to me.”

  She frowned and turned away. “You know you can say anything to me. I’m not naïve. I know all about the talk that was going around town—the stories about you being tricked into marriage.”

  He sighed. “It’s all true. I was drunk when Marsha talked a family member into marrying us. She told me she was pregnant with my baby, but I knew she couldn’t be sure it was mine. She was a hateful, bitter woman. I’ve never understood why she picked me. I certainly wasn’t prosperous or even useful. I spent most of my time gambling and drinking, I’m ashamed to say.”

  “Yuri, it doesn’t matter. God can forgive all of that.”

  “I know. Morris really helped me to see that.” He shook his head. “I’m thirty-six years old, and I’ve wasted most all of my life. Seems a little late to be starting over.”

  Britta shook her head. “It’s never too late.”

  The porch door opened, and Lydia Lindquist stepped out. She fixed him with a kind and motherly look. “Yuri, I’ve seen the cabin. It’s hardly livable. Since Britta is caring for the children, why don’t you stay here with us? We could even fix up Zee’s old cabin for you and the girls.”

  “I need to find work,” he replied.

  “Well, at least stay the night,” Lydia said. “You look like you could use a good meal, and we’ll have plenty.”

  He considered her offer. “I suppose I really have no place else to go. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive. Kjell and Dalton are in California. They won’t be back for another week or two. It would be nice to have a man around the house.”

  With that, she took her leave and Yuri sat back down to finish off the cookies. The Lindquists had always been so kind to him. Even Dalton—after everything he’d done to hurt his friend, Dalton had never failed to forgive Yuri. Maybe he would even allow him to come back to work for him.

  “I’m glad you’ll stay,” Britta said, flashing him a smile. “I’d love to hear all about your exploits and where life has taken you. You surely must have met some interesting people.”

  “I could say the same about you. Last I knew, you had gone abroad. Dalton told me it was almost like someone had lit a fire under you, and you couldn’t leave Sitka fast enough.” He chuckled. “But you were always going full speed ahead, weren’t you, Britta?”

  She seemed strangely upset by his words and got to her feet. “I should probably check on the children.”

  She left without another word, and Yuri could only wonder what he’d said to cause such a rapid departure. Britta Lindquist was definitely a different sort of woman. She seemed all open and smiles one minute, then mystery and refrain the next.

  He shook his head. “Females. What do I know about them?”

  Chapter 6

  Time to get up,” Kjell told his son. Dalton moaned and yawned. He stared through groggy eyes at the ceiling. He felt as if they’d only just gone to bed.

  “What time is it?”

  Kjell checked his pocket watch. “Five. If we’re going to get things finalized and get a telegram off to your mother, we need to be on our way.”

  Dalton slowly sat up. “Too bad we planned to leave the day after the opera. Staying up so late sure doesn’t make for an easy early morning.”

  “I know that well enough. I didn’t want to get up, either. Having a bed this soft and comfortable is dangerous.” Kjell gave a chuckle as he tossed Dalton his clothes. “If I had this at home, I might never get any work done.”

  Dalton nodded in agreement and started pulling on his clothes. “This is a grand place. I don’t think I’ve stayed anywhere as nice as this since being in Kansas City with Evie.”

  “It is very fine,” Kjell said, securing a latch on his bag. “Still, I do prefer the quiet comforts of home. The city is much too noisy for my desires.”

  “I agree,” Dalton admitted. “Ma and Phoebe might have enjoyed it, though. Think of all the things they could find to do and buy.” He thought of Phoebe and how good it would be to see her again. They’d barely been gone a month, but he missed her terribly.

  “That’s exactly why we left them home,” Kjell replied with a chuckle. “We would still be here another month if we’d brought them along.”

  “But they would have enjoyed—” Dalton felt the room begin to shake. He glanced up at his father to ascertain whether the movement was just his imagination. The tremor didn’t last long, however, and Dalton threw Kjell a smile. “Well, that was a surprise.”

  “I’ll bet it woke folks up,” his father replied. “I guess they get these earthquakes all the time here.”

  “Probably no worse than at home,” Dalton said. “So, do you have everything?”

  Dalton glanced around the room to see if he’d forgotten anything. He spied the book he’d been reading on the bedside table. “Guess I can pack this. I won’t have time for reading until we’re well on our way home.”

  He picked up the copy of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. “This is intriguing; you really should read it some—”

  The room began to shake again. Dalton lost his footing and fell as the ceiling rained plaster and the windows shattered not far from where he lay.

  “Father?” he called against the roar of the earthquake.

  “Looks bad,” Kjell called out.

  Dalton eased up on all fours and crawled away from the broken glass. “We ought to get out of here.”

  “I agree,” Kjell said, grabbing his bag.

  Dalton reached for his suitcase as a huge piece of the ceiling separated. “Watch out!” he cried, hoping his father would somehow heed the warning fast enough. But then time ceased to matter.

  Yuri sat on the Lindquist porch contemplating the future. He’d awakened early, hearing the baby cry. From the hallway, he could hear Britta singing a lullaby to soothe the infant. Her presence comforted him, but he couldn’t really say why. Perhaps because Britta, like Kjerstin and Dalton, were as much siblings to him as his own brother and sisters had been. Now, watching the morning dawn, Yuri wondered about his family in Russia. He hadn’t heard from them in years. If they were there now, he knew they would offer him help with Laura and Darya. His sister Natasha might even want to take them on to raise with her own children.

  “I thought I heard you up and about,” Lydia said as she stepped onto the front porch. “How did you sleep?”

  “To be honest, I was pretty restless. I couldn’t seem to sort through all my thoughts,” Yuri replied.

  “I can well imagine. You’ve been given a great deal to consider.” She took the seat beside him. “I hope you know how much it pleases me to see you here. You look so much better than the last time I saw you.”

  “I was in a bad way,” Yuri said, remembering when he’d left Sitka. “To be honest, I didn’t figure to live long after I left. Liquor had such a hold on me, and I couldn’t think of anything but that next drink.” He rubbed sleep from his eyes and eased back in the chair. “So much is different now.”

  “Indeed, it is. However, I hope a place to stay won’t be one of your worries. You are more than welcome to remain here with us. My aunt Zee passed on about five years ago, and her cabin has been empty ever since. We could fix it up for you and the girls. It might give you a chance to get to know them and figure out what you want to do.”

  “Whether I keep them or find a home for them,” Yuri began, “I have to find a job. Do you suppose Dalton would hire me again?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised, especially in light of your reformation.” Lydia smiled. “It’s really all he’s ever wanted for you. He loves you quite dearly.”

  Yuri nodd
ed. “No brother could have been closer. I miss that—I miss him.”

  “He’ll soon be home,” Lydia told him. “He and Kjell were anxious to return once they sold the boat. They were planning to bring many supplies back with them. Dalton has a new order for the local cannery, and I know they wanted the boats delivered by the end of June. He has some good help with the boys he’s hired from Sheldon Jackson’s school, but I think he would always have a place for you.”

  “He told me that he would, long ago when he bought the place from me—well, really, in a sense, from my father.” Yuri shook his head. “What a disappointment I have been to my folks.”

  “But, Yuri, you can write your father and let him know how God has changed you.”

  “I haven’t heard from any of them since Mother died. Of course, I didn’t really try to stay in touch—not even with my brother.” He sighed. “I don’t think any of them would have wanted to talk to me. I broke their hearts.”

  “So let them know that things are different now. Let them know God has turned your life around and that you’re a new man.”

  He sighed. “How can you be so sure my change is permanent?”

  She laughed. “You are the proof I need. You’re enjoying this new life, I can tell. Of course, you’ve had the shock of losing your wife and acquiring responsibility for two little girls, but even that can’t deter the joy of being free from the demons that once held you captive.”

  “That’s exactly how it feels. Remember that story in the Bible where Lazarus is raised from the dead? He was all bound up in burial cloth, and they had to free him up. That’s how I see myself. I was all tied up in drink and destruction. Morris James came along and helped me turn to Jesus, and He called me out of the grave—out of my burial cloth.”

  “It’s a sweet liberty that none of us should ever take lightly,” Lydia said.

  “But some folks don’t have to sink as low as I did. Some folks just accept God without a struggle and they never know the misery I lived through.”

  “That’s true. But we’ve all sinned, as the Bible says, and the consequences of those sins are as varied as the sins themselves. Your sins are truly no worse than mine, but perhaps the scars you bear are.”

  “You’re a very wise woman, Mrs. Lindquist.”

  “You know to call me Lydia,” she said with a smile. “I might as well be your auntie, for all the time you spent here as a child.”

  “Those are good memories. I always envied your family.” He sighed. “You never seemed to struggle or have any real problems.”

  Lydia surprised Yuri by laughing. “You know the truth of Dalton’s birth and kidnapping. You know how evil my first husband was, and how his family treated me and tried to separate us from Dalton.”

  “I’d nearly forgotten. I guess you have had your griefs to bear.”

  “We all have, Yuri. It’s just that bearing them with the Lord makes all the difference.” She fell silent and looked off toward the water.

  For several minutes they sat quietly, watching the morning unfold. Yuri considered her offer of a place to stay. He didn’t relish the idea of returning to the ramshackle cabin he’d shared with Marsha. There was nothing there he wanted or needed.

  “I suppose I could stick around here with you until Kjell and Dalton get back. I could do some work for you to earn my keep. Chop wood and such.”

  “That would be nice,” Lydia said. “Britta and I can care for the girls while you’re busy. Kay can help, too. I know you probably don’t remember her too well, but she’s been a great addition to our family.”

  “Frankly, I was usually too intoxicated to remember anything very well,” he admitted. “I’ll have to decide soon what to do with the children. They’d probably be better off without me.”

  “How can you say such a thing?” Britta questioned as she joined them on the porch. The screen door slammed into place behind her.

  Yuri found himself taken aback momentarily. Britta’s dark brown eyes pinned him to his chair. Though petite and angelic in appearance, Yuri could see a fiery determination in her eyes that betrayed her strength.

  “They don’t really know me, Britta.”

  “But that doesn’t mean they can’t get to know you. Laura is starved for affection. She needs your love. You’re all she has, and even if Darya . . .” She fell silent and looked at her mother before turning her gaze back to Yuri. “Even if Darya is just a baby, she needs love and attention.”

  “I told Yuri that he and the girls can live indefinitely at Zee’s cabin,” Lydia said. “I figure we could clean it up and make it a nice little home for them.”

  Britta nodded. “I agree, and I could come and take care of the girls for you while you worked.”

  “But what about the orchestra?” Lydia questioned.

  Yuri saw Britta flash her mother a look of disapproval. “What’s this about an orchestra?” he asked.

  “It’s nothing really. I was offered a position in England, but I’ve decided against taking it.”

  “Because of the girls?” he asked, frowning.

  “No,” Britta replied. “It’s much too far from the people I love. I don’t want to move to England and leave my family again. I’ve been gone far too long as it is.”

  “I can’t let the girls be the reason you give up a dream,” Yuri countered. “If you’ve had your heart set on this, then you need to reconsider.”

  “I promise you both,” Britta said firmly, “Laura and Darya are far more important to me than the orchestra. You’re more important, Yuri, although I think you’re too pig-headed to understand that.” She stormed off, slamming the screen door again as she went back into the house.

  Yuri looked at Lydia in surprise. “She still has that lightning-quick temper, I see.”

  Lydia didn’t smile, and this worried him. Perhaps she felt he should have made a better effort to encourage Britta to take the position. Yuri rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I hope I didn’t say the wrong thing. You seem vexed with me.”

  “It’s not you, Yuri. There’s something going on with Britta, and I can’t quite figure it out. Of all my children, she’s been the most secretive. After your sister Illiyana died in Russia, Britta truly seemed to close herself off.”

  “Well, they were best friends,” he murmured.

  Yuri hadn’t thought about Illiyana in a long time. She and Britta had been so very close. Her death to consumption had only caused him to drink all the more as he faced the possibility of his own mortality.

  “Britta’s always had a mind of her own,” he added, trying to forget the pain of loss.

  “Indeed she has, and it hasn’t always worked to her benefit. When she came to us saying she wanted to travel and attend school in the States, we thought it quite a departure from all she had voiced before. Still, we wanted to give her every opportunity, even though it meant seeing her leave Sitka.”

  “She left so quickly.” Yuri barely remembered returning to Sitka with Marsha at his side, but he did remember hearing Dalton’s news that Britta had gone. He didn’t know why it stuck out in his hazy thoughts, but the situation had saddened him. Britta had always been a good friend. He smiled to himself. She had always adored him, and maybe that’s why Yuri enjoyed her company so much. Britta never looked down on him. She held him in admiration since he’d saved her life when she and Illiyana had been lost on the mountain. There were so few honorable moments in Yuri’s life that he was convinced this was why he’d been particularly sorry to hear of her departure.

  “I’ll talk to her again,” Yuri announced. “I’ll make sure she’s certain about the orchestra and not just doing this for the children. I can always ask Natasha to take the girls. Of course, transporting them there would cost a lot of money.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. There are other ways to see to their needs. I don’t want Britta giving up an important future on account of my problems.”

  Lydia nodded. “You know, it’s also possible Britta’s sister and husband woul
d take the children if you believe you cannot keep them. Kjerstin hasn’t been able to have a child, and I know she longs for one.”

  “I’ll think on that. It would be a good fit. I know the girls would be well cared for by Kjerstin.”

  Perhaps that was the answer. Then Britta could go on with her life and not worry about trying to see him through his complicated messes.

  Britta focused on scrubbing the dirt from one of Laura’s dresses while the children napped. She tried not to think of Yuri giving up the girls to someone else. She loved them. She found her life had a true sense of purpose in caring for Laura and Darya. What would she do if he sent them away?

  Kay returned from hanging out clothes on the line and looked at Britta with stern resignation. “I suppose you’re still not going to tell me what else is going on.”

  “Why do you suppose anything else is going on? You’re always so suspicious of me.”

  The native woman laughed. “That’s because you deserve suspicion. You’re always hiding something, and this time is no different. I thought we were friends.”

  Britta sighed. “We are, Kay, and you’re right. There is something else. I just don’t feel at liberty to discuss it right now. I promise you, however, that I will talk to you about it. Probably before I talk to anyone else.”

  “When will that be?” Kay put the basket on the ground and cocked a brow. “Maybe I can help.”

  “Talking with you is always helpful,” Britta admitted. “I just feel that this situation requires a great deal of introspection. I can’t really take this to anyone else.”

  “You’re still fretting over the girls, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am. Now that Yuri’s back and talking about finding someone else to take them, I have them on my mind a great deal.”

  “They aren’t yours,” Kay said matter-of-factly. She put her hands on her hips as if for emphasis. “This isn’t like the time you wanted to take on caring for that orphaned bear cub.”

  Britta remembered the event from her childhood. Someone had shot the cub’s mother and either didn’t realize she had a baby or didn’t care. When the cub wandered into the Lindquist yard one day, Britta had found herself completely charmed. She wanted to raise it, but her father had said it would never work. The cub couldn’t live with people and no other bear would take it for her own cub. The baby bear was put down to save it from a worse fate, but Britta honestly thought that killing it was the worst that could happen. Now that she was older, of course, she knew better. That death had been quick and hopefully painless, whereas being left to die of starvation or being torn to bits by some other animal would have been cruel.