Twilight's Serenade

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Twilight's Serenade Page 14

by Tracie Peterson


  Phoebe’s mother clapped her hands. “And you both dance so nicely. Like little ballerinas.”

  “What’s that?” Connie asked.

  “I shall show you some pictures of ballerinas in a book,” Phoebe’s mother replied. “They are wonderful dancers.”

  “Can I be a ballerina?” Connie asked her mother.

  Just then Gordon bounded into the house with Alex at his heels. “They’re starting!” he proclaimed. “The passengers are coming ashore. Aunt Evie and Uncle Josh said to come right away.”

  Britta looked to her nephew. “Would you go down to the boat shop and let Yuri know?” Britta asked her nephew. “He’ll want to come with us to the dock.”

  “Sure. Then I’m going back in case they come on the first launch.”

  “We’re leaving now, too,” Phoebe assured him. “Come along, children—your father has finally come home!”

  Yuri caught up to Britta when they were halfway to the dock. He took hold of Laura and found that Connie immediately took his free hand. “I like you, Yuri,” Connie told him.

  “He’s not Yuri. He’s Papa,” Laura corrected.

  “He’s not my papa,” Connie countered. “My papa is on the big ship with Grandpa.”

  Laura seemed puzzled for a moment, then said nothing more. Britta couldn’t help but chuckle. Yuri glanced over at her with a smile.

  “It’s a good day,” he said in a barely audible voice.

  Britta couldn’t agree more. “It is a good day. One of the best.”

  The dock was teeming with activity, for the arrival of any ship was always cause for celebration. Britta stood back with Yuri and the children while Connie joined her mother and the others to draw as close to the water as possible. She fixed the moment firmly in her mind: the sun shining brightly with only a few wispy clouds to decorate an otherwise brilliant blue sky, the breeze sending only the smallest of ripples across the water and gently rocking the boats in the marina.

  Putting her hand to her forehead, Britta shielded her eyes from the sun in order to see the passengers in the approaching launch. There at the front were her father and brother. “There they are,” she announced.

  Yuri nodded. “I see them.”

  “I can’t see,” Laura said.

  Yuri lifted her and pointed to the boat. “See. There they are.”

  “Can’t see,” she insisted.

  “I’ll take her down with us if you like,” Kay said, coming up from behind them with Ted at her side.

  “Would you like to go down to the water with Kay?” Yuri asked his daughter.

  Her enthusiasm was evident. “Yes! Yes!”

  Britta laughed and Kay held out her hand. “Come along, then. The boat will soon be here.”

  Laura fairly danced along as Kay and Ted took hold of her hands. Britta put Darya to her shoulder and couldn’t help but smile at the sight before her. It was only when Yuri began to speak that she turned and forgot the others.

  “I’ve thought a great deal about what you said—that you love me—that you’ve loved me all these years.”

  She met his gaze, feeling rather nervous. “And?”

  “Well, I have to tell you that I was surprised by it. I mean, I knew you cared about me, but I figured it was like a sister for her brother.”

  Laughing, Britta only uttered one word: “Hardly.”

  Yuri gave her a quizzical look. “You’re unlike anyone else I’ve ever known.”

  “I feel the same about you.”

  “I don’t know why. I’ve been nothing but a mess most of my life. And you can’t begin to understand how I’m hardened by all that I’ve endured. And frankly . . . well, I don’t think I’m at all what you need in a husband.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Britta replied as casually as she could muster. She didn’t want to appear overly excited by the fact that Yuri was finally speaking of marriage.

  “I just can’t imagine that you know what you need, either.”

  She fixed him with a stern expression. “I’ve loved you since I was seven. I’ve watched you practically destroy yourself and then recover; you think I don’t know my own heart?”

  “Britta, you don’t know what the past has done to me,” he said honestly. “I don’t want to love anyone, because I fear I’ll only make a mess of it again.”

  “Liar. You’re afraid you’ll be hurt. Well, welcome to life. It’s full of hurts but also full of pleasures, and you don’t get the latter without risking the first.”

  He considered her statement for a moment. “I just don’t know, Britta. I think if I were to ever fall in love with anyone, it would be you.” She couldn’t keep from smiling, but before she could get a word out, he added, “But I just don’t know how long that might take. How long are you willing to wait?”

  “I’m not,” she said, surprising him. She could see in his expression that this was far from the comment he’d expected. Good, she thought. Let him be shocked—confused. She shifted the baby and waited for him to speak.

  After what seemed an eternity, he finally asked, “What do you mean by that? Have your feelings changed?”

  “No, but I’m done waiting. I’ve waited for seventeen years. I think that’s long enough—don’t you?”

  “But I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I can hardly be blamed for that.”

  “No, but you can remedy the situation. I believe you will fall in love with me,” she said with more confidence than she felt. She hoped she could gain his love—prayed he might fall passionately in love with her. But she wasn’t exactly sure it would happen. Was she being naïve?

  “Well, that was sort of what I was saying. Maybe in time—”

  “We don’t have a lot of time. The girls need a family now. They need us.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  Britta knew there was no going back now. “I want you to marry me, and I want you to do it right away.”

  His eyes widened. “What?”

  “Yuri, I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to marry you. If you feel you can’t love me right away, then fine. We’ll live platonically. We’ll be good parents to the children.”

  “That’s hardly fair to you. You deserve a husband who is madly in love with you. Britta, you’re a beautiful young woman. You could have anyone.”

  “I want you.” Her words were straight to the point. She was determined to fight this battle and win the victory. “You said if you could ever love someone, it would be me. So marry me, and let’s stop wasting time.”

  “What if love doesn’t come?”

  Britta felt a momentary flash of fear. What if it didn’t? Could she spend the rest of her life in a loveless marriage?

  “I have to believe it will. As time passes and you see the benefits of true love, you’ll let down your guard and learn to trust me.” She met his blue eyes. “Yuri, I’d rather at least try than to lose you forever. If you’re unhappy, then I’ll let you go. I’ll return home to live with my parents and raise the girls, and you can go your way. But I’ll never stop loving you.”

  Britta left him to consider her declaration and made her way down to where her father and mother were locked in a tight embrace. “Father!” she cried as she drew closer.

  He looked up and smiled. Mother pulled back, revealing the tears that stained her cheeks. Father took two awkward steps toward her and opened his arms to her. “Britta . . . oh, you’re a sight for these eyes.”

  He hugged her, careful not to squeeze Darya too tight. “My, but this little one has grown. Look at her.”

  “We’ve missed you so much. Are you all right? How were you hurt?”

  Kjell laughed. “I promise to answer all of your questions later. Right now, I just want to look at you all and enjoy the sight.”

  “And what a sight,” Dalton said, leaning over to give her a peck on the cheek. “You are looking as ornery as ever, little sister.”

  “Might I say that your new scar gives you a distinguished
look?” She eyed the three-inch mark across his forehead. “If you grow your hair out a bit, no one will ever notice it, and you can go back to looking like the mischievous fellow I know you to be.”

  They all laughed at this. Yuri joined them and he and Dalton embraced in a hearty hug. “I didn’t know you’d come back,” Dalton told him.

  “There’s so much for us to discuss,” Yuri replied. “I’ll look forward to catching you up.”

  “Yuri has changed a great deal,” Phoebe threw in at Dalton’s questioning expression.

  “She means I got off the hooch and got right with God,” Yuri clarified.

  Dalton laughed and gave him another hug. “Well, that’s the best news you could ever tell a fellow.” He sobered all at once. “I was sorry to hear about your wife, Yuri. Real sorry.”

  “It’s all right. God taught me a great deal, even in that.”

  He turned to Kjell. “Good to have you home.”

  “Thanks, Yuri. I guess I owe you a great deal for taking care of my gals. Lydia said you were a godsend.”

  “I like to think I blessed them, even in a small way. They’ve been more than good to me and the girls.”

  “Well, you let me know if there’s anything I can do for you,” Kjell said with a pat on Yuri’s back.

  To Britta’s surprise, Yuri immediately said, “There is one thing.”

  Everyone fell silent and looked at him. Apparently no one had expected Yuri to seek a reward for what he’d done.

  “What is it, Yuri?” Kjell asked without a hint of condemnation.

  “I’d like your permission to marry Britta.”

  Britta’s mouth dropped open. She had hoped for this but hadn’t figured it would happen—at least not this soon. She flashed her stunned father a smile. “Well, do say yes. I’ve been waiting for this since I was seven years old. We have plans to make.”

  Everyone laughed, but Britta could see the concern in her father’s and mother’s eyes.

  Chapter 16

  July 1906

  A midst Fourth of July celebrations, Britta and Yuri were quietly married on her parents’ front lawn. Britta had never been more pleased about anything in her life. She finally felt whole—like there had always been a Yuri-sized piece missing in her life and now it was complete.

  “You may kiss your bride,” the pastor declared.

  Yuri looked hesitant—almost fearful. Britta smiled. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook. If she was going to win his love, she needed to start now. “Well, are you going to kiss me, or am I going to have to kiss you?”

  Friends and family who heard her question laughed, but Britta kept her gaze fixed on Yuri. He bent as if to give her a quick peck on the cheek, but Britta wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her lips. She kissed him with seventeen years of pent-up passion, and when she pulled away, she could see the surprise in his eyes. She smiled again.

  “See there . . . you lived through it.”

  The family came forward to wish them well, but Britta could sense her parents’ apprehension. She especially hated the worry in her mother’s expression. Her mother had suffered a horrible loveless marriage, and Britta was certain that she feared the same would befall her daughter.

  “I pray you will be happy,” Mother told her. Taking hold of Britta’s hands, she held them tightly for a moment. “It seems just yesterday you were but a little girl, and now you’re a bride.” She shook her head and released Britta’s hands as she turned to Yuri. “Please take good care of her.”

  “Goodness, Mother. It’s not like we’re going anywhere,” Britta declared. “We’ll just be living in the cabin down the hill—not even five hundred feet away.”

  “I know,” her mother replied, “but things are different now.”

  Britta tried not to betray her concern. Mother was right. Things were very different now. She found herself wondering for just a moment if they’d done the right thing, but just as quickly, she pushed her worries aside. Of course they’d done the right thing. It was exactly what she had hoped for—prayed for.

  “The food is ready,” Kay announced.

  “We should eat before it gets too cold,” Britta said. “Come on.” She took hold of Yuri’s hand. “Hungry?”

  He looked at her oddly for a moment. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost believe it was a look of desire mingled with confusion. “Yuri?”

  “I could eat,” he said in a barely audible voice.

  She laughed to keep from showing how nervous she suddenly felt. “Then let’s not keep our guests waiting.”

  The picnic supper was the perfect way to end the day. The family was together, sharing not only the joy of the wedding but the return of Kjell and Dalton. Only Kjerstin and her husband were absent. There had been no time to get word to them, but a letter had come just the day before with wonderful news: Kjerstin was pregnant, and they had decided to remain where they were rather than take the mission in the Aleutians. Britta heard her mother already talking with Father about arranging a trip for when the baby arrived.

  “I want to offer a blessing,” Father announced as they gathered around the long plank tables. “If we could all join hands.”

  The party quickly fell into order, and even the children seemed to understand the importance of the moment. Britta felt Yuri’s warm fingers close around her hand, and she realized how she longed for his love, his touch. She could only pray that his trust and affection for her would soon follow.

  “Father, I thank you for this day and for the blessings you have bestowed upon this family. I thank you for the children you have given us and for the joy they have been. I pray you will surround Britta and Yuri, Laura, and Darya and make them a strong, loving family. Give Yuri the wisdom he needs to be a godly husband and father. Help him to seek you in all that he does. Let Britta be a godly wife—obedient and loving—always fixing her heart first on you and then on the things of this earth. Bless these children and watch over them as they grow. May Yuri and Britta always be a light to them—a light that shines your love and hope. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Britta looked and saw tears in her father’s eyes. She couldn’t help but drop her hold on Yuri and reach out to embrace him. “Thank you,” she whispered in her father’s ear. “And please don’t worry.”

  He held her close for a moment. “I won’t worry. I will pray, however.”

  She nodded. “I should hope so.”

  Dalton found a moment to be alone with Phoebe, away from the celebration. Standing there, looking out at the distant harbor, he couldn’t help but thank God for another day with her. He hadn’t talked much about San Francisco and what had happened, but now he felt the need.

  “How I feared I’d never see your face again,” he said, pulling her back against him. He leaned his chin on the top of her head, catching a whiff of the sweet floral scent of her perfume.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I feared the same thing. I was so desperate to know you were all right. I wanted nothing more than to get aboard a ship and come find you.”

  “That is a nightmare I’m glad you did not have to endure.” He continued to hold her tight. “I didn’t know the half of it myself for weeks afterward. When I saw even the briefest glimpse of the devastation, I knew that I was only alive because God clearly had ordained it. He had something yet for me to do.”

  “He knew I needed you—that we all needed you. Oh, Dalton, I could not even imagine how I would get by without you. The very thought sickened me, and I had to push it aside.”

  “You would have found a way,” he said, turning her to face him. “You are stronger than you know, Phoebe. I would want to know that you could go on—that you would be strong for our children.”

  “Don’t ask me to tell you that I would,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. “Because I just don’t know. I can’t make that promise.”

  He reached out and wiped the tears that fell upon her cheek. “Phoebe, I love you with all of my heart, but I would hate
to believe that you get your strength only in me. God is the one who will always be there for you. You can’t expect me to do His job.” He smiled and pulled her close once again. “He is your stronghold—a mighty fortress.”

  “I know,” she admitted. “But I cannot bear the thought of being parted from you. I love you so dearly, Dalton. When I lost our baby, it was like I had lost a precious part of you. I felt I had failed you.”

  “Oh, my darling, you could never fail me.” He took her face in his hands and gazed into her blue eyes. “I am so sorry that you had to go through such a painful experience. I’m sorry for the child we’ve lost, but I thank God you are all right. You didn’t fail me or anyone else. I don’t know why it had to happen, but I know that God will be with us. He’ll see us through this sad time.”

  “He’s given us rejoicing even in the midst of sorrow,” she murmured. “You are here, and all is well.” She hugged him close and gave a sigh.

  In that moment, Dalton had never known greater peace. He let the minutes pass without thought of the future or the past. There was only now, only the moment.

  “But how did you get out of the hotel?” Britta asked her father, who was surrounded by family and guests. He had been telling them about the earthquake and the aftermath.

  “The hotel itself was in pretty decent shape right after,” he explained. “A piece of the ceiling had come down on Dalton, which was how he got the scar on his forehead. We managed to get out of the room and make our way downstairs, but there was such pandemonium. People were hysterical. I found that opera singer I told you about—Mr. Caruso. He was clad in his robe, clutching a framed picture of President Roosevelt, trying to find his way to safety.”

  “Why did he have the picture?” Britta questioned.

  Her father shrugged. “Who can say? Many people were clinging to items that made little sense to me. I saw one woman cradling a hairbrush and single boot in her arms. It certainly didn’t seem like the kind of thing one would worry about when trying to flee, but panic causes folks to do strange things.”

  “So what happened next, Grandpa?” Gordon asked, intent on the story.

 

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