Twilight's Serenade (25 page)

“Do you love my sister?”

“Why are you asking this again?”

“Do you love Britta?” Dalton’s tone grew irritated. “It’s not that hard of a question, Yuri.”

Taking a deep breath, Yuri sat down on a nearby rock. “Please tell me what this is all about.”

“Phoebe told me that you two married out of nothing more than convenience for the children. I want to know if that’s true.”

“In part, it is. Britta felt that the girls needed a mother and father under one roof. She suggested we marry, and eventually I agreed.”

“Eventually? What’s the matter? Isn’t my sister good enough?”

“She’s too good. That’s the problem. She deserves much better than me.” This seemed to dispel Dalton’s initial anger. “Look, Dalton, the arrangement is between Britta and me. You don’t need to be in the middle of it.”

“Maybe not, but I care about my sister’s happiness. You made a pledge before God to also care about it. You promised to love her, and I want to know why you don’t.”

“I never said I didn’t love her.”

Dalton looked at him in disbelief. “You let her cook and clean and care for your children, but you offer her no tenderness—no comfort. How lonely she must be.”

“I’d like to make things better for her, but I don’t know what’s best. Do you suppose I should annul the marriage and set her free?”

Dalton’s expression was one of shock. “I do not. What’s wrong with you? How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“I want her to be happy.”

“And you don’t think she can be happy with you? Good grief, man, she loves you. She lost her heart to you long ago. Phoebe said she’s never seen anyone so completely devoted to another person. Britta would stay married and loveless for the rest of her life if it kept her close to you.”

“But I want better than that for her.”

“So do I,” Dalton said, coming to stand in front of Yuri. “That’s why I’m here. Why can’t you allow yourself to love her?”

Yuri shook his head. “I do love her. Maybe more than I even realized. Still, I’m afraid. I don’t want the past to repeat itself in this marriage.”

“Then don’t let it. My sister isn’t Marsha. She didn’t trick you into marriage. She may have initiated it, but she didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. There had to be a reason it appealed to you.”

He considered that for a moment. “Britta never turned against me for my mistakes or expected too much of me. She accepts me just as I am. She doesn’t try to change me, but rather encourages me.”

“Who could ask for more in a wife?” Dalton said with a smile. “And she is pretty. You have to admit that much.”

“I never said she wasn’t. Her beauty isn’t the problem. I am. I have all these doubts that I can be what she needs me to be.”

“Well, so do I—with Phoebe. I always worry about being what she needs. That’s just the way it is. Those doubts cannot rule our hearts, however. You know what you need to do, Yuri?”

He shook his head.

Dalton grinned. “You need to court your wife. You need to let go of your fears and give her your heart.”

“What if it’s too late? What if she decides she doesn’t want it?”

Dalton laughed heartily. “You really don’t know my sister at all.”

Chapter 20

D
alton stared at his mother in disbelief. “Here? My brother is here?”

“I’m afraid so. We went to tell Evie first.” Lydia glanced at his sister. “I didn’t want Marston surprising her as he had me.”

“Why has he come?”

“He says he’s dying. He has come to make restitution.” Her words were flat and lacked the compassion she so typically held for others. Lydia could see the disbelief in her son’s eyes. She couldn’t blame him; she felt it herself. Could Marston be telling the truth? Was it that simple?

“Where is he?” Dalton questioned.

“Kjell said he took a room at the hotel,” Evie offered.

“Well, I suppose I should go and speak with him,” Dalton said, getting to his feet.

“You don’t have to do that,” Lydia told him. She got up as well, but not nearly as fast. The ache in her hips brought on by the rainy weather caused her to move more slowly. She straightened and met Dalton’s blank expression.

“Dalton, it’s not necessary. He can’t possibly expect you or any of us to believe him. He’s caused this family too much harm. Just because he says he’s changed—that he’s here to make things right—doesn’t mean we should listen to him.”

“While it is difficult to believe that Marston could have changed,” Evie began thoughtfully, “I know God is capable of working to recreate anyone. I will go and hear him out. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

Dalton nodded. “I’ll go with you. The sooner we hear what he has to say, the sooner he will leave. I can’t imagine he’ll want to remain in Sitka any longer than is necessary. Once we hear him out, hopefully he will depart.”

“I think you’re both making a mistake,” Lydia said, crossing her arms. She didn’t want her son to have anything to do with the man, but she could hardly stop him. “Marston Gray may be old, but mark my words: He hasn’t changed. I can feel it when he speaks to me.” She turned to her husband. “You once told me that such uneasiness was often the Holy Spirit’s way of helping us to recognize evil.”

“That’s true enough, Lydia, but I agree with Dalton. If you go to him collectively and stand up to him, perhaps he will say what he has to say and return to Kansas City.”

Lydia felt as if they’d all turned on her. Though she knew that what her husband said was probably true, she didn’t like giving Marston even that much room to maneuver.

“I’ll do whatever you suggest, but I won’t trust him,” she finally said.

“Nor will I,” Dalton agreed. “I didn’t suppose we should trust him, Mother.” He reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He cannot hurt you anymore.”

She met her son’s gaze. “He can if he hurts you.”

Dalton smiled. “He can’t hurt me—not if I don’t let him. I am not a fool.”

“He says he wants to leave us his fortune,” Lydia said.

“We don’t need his money,” Evie said. “We’ll tell him to leave it to Jeannette or Mitchell. After all, they’re likely to be the ones who’ll oversee his funeral expenses. That would be the appropriate way to manage the matter.”

An hour later, they were suggesting just such a thing to Marston. He looked at them and shook his head. “My funeral has already been arranged and paid for. Jeannette’s husband would only drink my money away and waste it on those drunkard sons of his, and Mitchell agrees with me that the money should be given to you three.”

He eased back in his chair. “I realize this makes you uncomfortable, and that was never my intention. My lawyer had suggested I simply leave the money to you in my will, and he could send a letter of explanation. I suppose that might have made it easier, but you know me. I was never one to do what was easy.”

“Yes, we do know you.” Evie’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but Marston took it in stride.

“I know that I don’t deserve your kindness—”

Dalton raised his hand to interrupt. “No one here wishes to remember the pain of the past. However, that doesn’t mean we are inclined to forget and trust you again.”

“Nor would a reasonable man expect you to,” Marston said, nodding. “That would be completely irrational—even foolhardy. No, I don’t come seeking trust or kindness even. I merely wanted to extend the olive branch. To do what I could in the sight of God and man to make restitution.”

Watching his older brother carefully, Dalton tried to figure out what he was really doing in Sitka. Like his mother, Dalton didn’t trust Marston Gray. There was something that just didn’t seem right.

“Tell us about your sickness,” Dalton requested. “What exactly is wrong?”

“The doctor believes it to be cancer of the stomach,” Marston replied without blinking. “It has caused me a great deal of weight loss and much pain.” He glanced at Lydia and Evie. “I’m sure that news must please you.”

“Stop it,” Dalton protested. “No one here wishes you such a fate.”

Marston shrugged. “I don’t hear either of them saying so, but I’ll take you at your word. Anyway, the disease is progressing quickly. Every day I find myself weaker than the day before. Realizing my time is short, I felt it important to seek you out. Whether you believe that or not, it is the truth.”

“Well, now you’ve come and shared this with us,” Evie stated. “You know how we feel about your money, so take it and go back to Kansas City.”

Lydia nodded and got to her feet. Kjell and Dalton did likewise, but Marston remained seated. He looked at her apologetically. “You will forgive me for not rising. I’m afraid my strength is played out from visiting you earlier.”

She turned away without a word. Dalton could see that his mother was deeply troubled by the encounter. He hoped his father would take her home and get her as far from Marston as he could. It was obvious the man still had the power to hurt her.

Evie rose and turned to Marston once more. “You really should return to Kansas City. At least there Mitchell’s family might care for you in your final days.”

Dalton saw his brother’s face contort as if he were wrestling with her comment. “You know, I spoke of this with several people before coming here. I did not make this trip without great reservation. It was not my intention to bring my unwelcomed presence back into your life as much as to show my contrite and spiritually renewed heart. I suppose like Judas in the Bible, however, there shall be no peace for me.”

“Judas never sought peace,” Dalton’s mother snapped back. She glared at Marston, her anger burning bright. “He sought his own way—a way to prosper his coffers even though it cost Jesus His life.” She drew a deep breath, and Dalton knew she was attempting to still her anger.

“I honestly do not wish you harm, Marston. And believe me, it took a great many long years for me to come to this place. Therefore, if you have no peace in your life, then I suggest you reconsider your spiritually renewed heart and seek the Scriptures for what’s missing. I can assure you, for my part, I simply no longer want to be bothered with you.”

She turned and took hold of Kjell’s arm. “Please take me home.”

Dalton exchanged a glance with his father before watching his parents leave the room. His sister followed but paused at the door.

“I agree with Lydia. I would rather be left alone after this. I have no desire to share in your fortune. My memories of you and my life before Sitka are all sad and marred with pain. I prefer not to think on them at all.”

With that she was gone, leaving Marston to look to Dalton. “Well? Will you also leave me now?”

Folding his hands on the table, Dalton narrowed his eyes. “Why are you really here?”

The following day, Britta heard all the details regarding Marston’s surprise visit. She had never seen her mother more irritated when discussing a topic than in watching her react to the arrival of Marston Gray. Twice she’d seen her mother take refuge in her bedroom, pleading a headache. Obviously this man was the cause.

Britta considered the past and all the stories she’d heard about Marston Gray as she rolled out a pie crust. What a strange and violent history in their family background. Watching Laura rolling out her own tiny pieces of dough while Darya slept, Britta couldn’t imagine enduring all her mother had lived through.

“Hello? Britta?”

“I’m here in the kitchen, Kay.”

Kay popped her head around the corner. “What are you doing?”

“Making a pie.” Britta held up the rolling pin.

“I’ll finish that for you. Yuri is waiting outside.”

Britta put the rolling pin aside and dusted flour from her hands. “What are you talking about? Waiting for what?”

“For you, silly.” Kay gave her a grin. “He asked me to watch the girls so that he could take you on a walk. Now, take off your apron and go.”

For just a moment, her stomach did a flip. Yuri wanted to go for a walk? What was he planning? “Laura, you play nice for Kay, and Mama will be back in just a little bit.” Britta put her apron aside and headed for the door. She took up her coat and went outside.

Yuri stood at the bottom of the steps. As she came through the front door, he reached up to take hold of her hand. “It’s much too pretty to stay inside all day. I thought perhaps you would accompany me.”