Read Twilight's Serenade Online
Authors: Tracie Peterson
But could I bear to break Britta’s heart that way?
June 1906
B
ritta, we need to talk,” Brenton said in his usual charming manner. “You seem to avoid me at every turn.”
She sat in the yard, mending one of Laura’s dresses, while Darya played on a quilt at her feet. Laura was pulling her dolls in a wagon across the grass, oblivious to the tension Britta felt. Britta shielded her eyes from the sun as she glanced upward and tried to smile.
“I suppose now would be just as good a time as any.” She put aside the mending and got to her feet.
“You make it sound like a chore, Britta. Don’t you remember how you used to love our discussions? We would sit for hours, conversing over coffee or tea about everything under the sun.”
“I do remember,” she said quietly. “Those days seem like a lifetime ago.”
“Not to me.” Brenton reached out to take hold of her hand. “Britta, in case you’ve forgotten, it’s June now. You promised me an answer to my proposal.”
Britta pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I can’t marry you, Brenton. It wouldn’t be fair.”
He frowned and moved closer. “How could it not be fair?”
“I . . . I don’t want to leave Alaska,” she said, unable to admit to him that she didn’t love him. Despite her frustration at his unexpected arrival, she hated the thought of hurting him. “Now that I’m home, I don’t ever want to leave again. I was born here, and I will die here.”
“And you would give up love for a place?”
He wasn’t making this easy. And while at one time she thought perhaps he held the key to her happiness, she now knew she would have to admit the truth. But instead of blurting out that she wasn’t in love with him—that someone else held her heart—Britta was silenced as Brenton pulled her into his arms and kissed her with great passion.
For a moment Britta really tried to muster up feelings that matched his enthusiasm, but it was pointless. Even with Brenton’s lips upon her own, she could only think of Yuri. It was his face she saw, his voice she heard whispering in her ear.
“Papa!”
Britta pulled back abruptly to find Yuri watching them from across the yard. Laura ran to him, and Yuri lifted her into his arms and began closing the distance between them. Britta knew she’d done nothing wrong, but it felt as if she’d just been caught cheating.
She quickly bent to pick up Darya. “I need to change her diaper,” she said and hurried to the house before either man could say a word.
Instead of going into the cabin, however, Britta hurried up the steps to her childhood home, feeling different emotions all tangled inside her. Why couldn’t Brenton just leave? Why couldn’t Yuri love her? What would happen to the girls? Too many questions and not enough answers.
To her surprise, Mother sat at the table as if waiting for her. Britta looked at her for a moment and sighed. She longed to tell her everything, and it seemed that fortune or God or both had presented her with the opportunity.
She sat opposite her mother and only then realized that Darya was nodding off to sleep. It seemed that everything was perfectly arranged for their discussion. Mother smiled at her gently.
“Why can’t life be simple?” Britta asked.
“I used to wonder that myself. It so often seems that for every glorious moment, there are a dozen that stand in opposition.”
Britta nodded. “That’s exactly how it feels.”
“Are you ready to talk to me about it?”
“Yes.” Britta thought about Brenton and Yuri. She glanced at Darya and then back up to her mother. “I’m in love.”
“I know,” her mother replied softly.
“You do?” Britta questioned and then shook her head. “No, it’s not what you think. I’m not in love with Brenton.”
“I know.”
Britta felt as if a huge load had been lifted from her shoulders. Mother had already guessed the truth. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, but she was.
“How?”
Lydia smiled. “Because I’m in love and recognize what it looks like.”
“But how did you know it was Yuri?”
She gave a light chuckle. “Britta, you have loved him since you were a child. I had thought leaving Sitka would change that for you. Hoped it, really, because he was married.”
“That was my intent, as well. When Brenton proposed and then offered me the orchestra position, I thought for sure I could make it work. I thought if I just stayed far enough away from here—from Yuri—I could forget him. But I can’t. It’s not just the children I love, Mother. It’s him. It’s always been him.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do? Yuri’s heart has a wall around it. Marsha forced him into a loveless marriage and . . .” She lowered her voice. “Darya isn’t even his. Yuri has struggled all of his life to feel that he belongs, and yet he feels so alone.”
Mother nodded. “I’ve never told you much about my marriage to Dalton’s real father, and that is because it wasn’t at all pleasant. My husband was a very harsh man who beat me.”
“Oh, Mother, I’m so sorry.” Britta shook her head. “Why was he so cruel?”
Lydia folded her hands. “I never really knew. He was determined to be the best at his business and make a vast fortune, and while doing so, he viciously eliminated anyone who got in his way or threatened him.”
Britta carefully watched her mother’s sad face. “Why did you marry him, then?”
“I was forced into it. My father arranged the marriage as a business agreement.”
“How awful.”
Her mother nodded slowly. “It truly was. However, I don’t say these things in order to dwell on the bad. Rather, I want you to know that my heart was just as hard as Yuri’s when it came to the idea of ever falling in love.”
“What changed that? How can I help him?” Britta asked.
“Your father simply loved me, and his love wore down my defenses,” Mother replied. “He was so patient with me, so gentle. I’d never known that a man could be so kind and considerate until I met your father.” Tears came to her eyes. “I miss him so much.”
“Oh, Mama, I do, too. I pray every day that we’ll hear something, but then I find myself fearing that the news will be bad.” Britta longed to go to her mother and hug her close, but Darya was sleeping so peacefully that she hated to disturb her.
“At this point, it’s the not knowing that grieves me. I just don’t want to be without him. He’s everything to me.”
Britta nodded. “I’ve felt that way about Yuri since he saved my life when I was seven.”
Her mother fixed her with a firm gaze. “Then you must do what you can to win him over—to help him fall in love with you. Pray that God will guide you and give you the right words to say. But, Britta, don’t lead Mr. Maltese on. If you don’t intend to marry him, you need to release him.”
“I will, Mama. I know that I need to. I guess I just wanted everyone to have a fairy-tale ending.”
“And what exactly would that entail?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, happily ever after—the hero rescues the princess. Just little things like that,” Britta said in a wistful tone. “I don’t think that’s asking for much, is it?”
“If only it could be like that on earth. But I’m afraid we will always have difficulties here. Jesus told us that much, but He also promised to always be with us. We get our happily ever after, Britta, but it doesn’t truly come until we go to be with Him in heaven.”
She sighed. “I suppose you’re right, Mama, but you can’t blame me for wanting at least a little of it now.”
After seeing Britta in the arms of Brenton Maltese, Yuri wasn’t sure what to do. The sight of them kissing had made him feel nauseous. He wanted to take Maltese by the collar and throw him aside for imposing himself on Britta. He found himself wanting to protect her, but in truth, he knew that Britta was strong enough to defend herself.
Still, he worried that Britta truly loved Maltese and wasn’t able to admit it because of the children. Knowing how much the girls loved her, he considered giving them to Britta. But that wouldn’t be fair to a new bride. Besides, if she married Maltese, they would go away to England, and he would never see the girls again.
“But maybe that’s the answer,” he murmured.
If Britta and Maltese were to marry, they could create a family for Laura and Darya. Then again, maybe Britta wouldn’t want the responsibility. She had a chance at a prestigious orchestra position, at living out a dream.
Yuri remembered times when she had soloed in the little orchestra Lydia directed. Britta could make the most amazing music and emotion pour out of her violin. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard. Even Lydia had commented that Britta had far surpassed her abilities.
“But she’d throw all of that away because of the children.” He shook his head. “I can’t let that happen. I won’t.”
The next day, Yuri found himself sanding the hull of the newest skiff, still contemplating Britta’s situation, when Phoebe made her way into the shop. The lack of news about Dalton had drained her of her youth. She looked tired and careworn.
“What brings you down here?” he asked.
“Gordon said you were still working. I wanted you to know that you’re welcome to join us for supper, if you like.”
He shook his head. “I’m expected at home. I should have left an hour ago.”
Phoebe touched Dalton’s workbench and bit her lower lip. Yuri could see that she was close to tears. He moved to where she stood and put down his tools. He reached out and pulled Phoebe into his arms and held her for a long moment.
“I’m confident we’ll hear something soon, Phoebe. We have everyone looking, and Lydia even hired that private investigator. It won’t be long now.”
“I try to keep my spirits up for the sake of the children, but it’s so hard. I feel so hopeless and . . .” Her voice quivered and her body shook. “Oh, Yuri, I’m pregnant. What if Dalton is dead? What if my baby never knows his father?”
Yuri was surprised by her news, but it only served to help him understand the depth of her emotions. Not only was she facing a life without the man she loved, but she was facing the reality of having another child.
He stroked her head as he might have Laura’s. “God is watching over all of the details, Phoebe. He knows exactly what has happened and what will happen in the days to come. We have to trust that He will help us through this, no matter the outcome.”
She pressed her face against his chest and sobbed. “I don’t know that I can go on if Dalton is . . . if he’s . . .”
“Shhh. Don’t even think that way.” Yuri held her tight.
Movement to his right caused him to glance up, and he found Britta watching him with a disapproving frown. She turned as soon as their eyes met and hurried back out the door. Yuri fought the urge to go after her. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression and think that he was betraying his best friend’s trust. Still, he didn’t want to desert Phoebe. There would be time to speak with Britta later.
Britta didn’t know what to think. She’d come to see why Yuri had been delayed getting home. Kay had volunteered to bathe the girls, so Britta took advantage of this and walked to town. She’d wondered if Yuri had been stalled by news about her father and brother. Instead, she found him holding Phoebe in the deserted boat shop.