Twilight's Serenade

by Tracie Peterson

  “I’m truly sorry about all of this,” she told him. “I was so worried about something happening to Laura that I got rather careless.”

  “Sometimes we can allow ourselves to get overly concerned about things that may or may not ever be.”

  Britta nodded. “God is truly in control.”

  “If wishes could make life simple, then you would never have another worry again,” Yuri said softly. “Because with all of my heart, I wish only for you to be happy and at peace.”

  She grinned. “And I’m sure you wish for me to stop falling down the side of mountains.”

  “Rescuing you is getting to be a habit.”

  “I would hardly call two events in an entire lifetime a habit.”

  He chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed. Reaching for her hand, he pressed her fingers to his lips. “Maybe not, but I do have to confess that I have another habit where you are concerned.”

  “Truly? What would that be?”

  “I love you. I never thought love was possible for me, but I’m happy to have been proven wrong. This is a habit I welcome.”

  “Hmmm, a very difficult habit indeed. I tried to break it once where you were concerned,” she said rather groggily. Yawning, she closed her eyes. “But it was much too big of a task. Loving you is something I am destined to do for the rest of my life.”

  “Good thing,” he replied, feeling his heart flood with love for this woman. “Because I feel it is my destiny, as well.”

  Dalton was ready to go to bed when a knock sounded on his front door. Opening it, he found one of the hospital orderlies. “I’m sorry to come here at this hour,” the man began, “but the doctor sent me. I’m afraid your brother has died.”

  “When?” Dalton felt as if he’d fallen into a great emptiness.

  “About twenty minutes ago. We had checked on him at eight-thirty, and he was still with us. However, the nine-o’clock check proved otherwise. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you for coming.”

  “Doc said you needn’t worry about arrangements until morning.”

  “Thank him for me. I know he did everything possible to make Marston’s final days comfortable.”

  The orderly nodded, tipped his hat, and left without further ceremony. Dalton waited until the man was well up the walk and headed back to the road before closing the door. He then leaned against the fireplace mantel. Marston was gone. Just like that—his life was over. It was harder still to know that his rejection of God had been so complete. Dalton would have liked to have comforted himself by believing that Marston would have reached out to God at the last moments of his life, but that didn’t fit Marston Gray’s style.

  “I heard someone at the door,” Phoebe said, crossing the room. “Is everything all right?”

  “My brother has died.”

  “I am sorry, Dalton. I know you wanted so much for him to make things right with God. Perhaps he did. You planted the seeds. He could hardly ignore the truth completely.”

  “If anyone could, it would be Marston.”

  She considered this a moment. “You did what the Lord called you to do. You were there for him. You offered him comfort and the company of family. Given the things he did in his lifetime, I would say you went far beyond what he deserved.”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t understand why he would face death in such a manner. God’s Spirit could have offered him a more perfect comfort. Marston would have known real peace had he only accepted the truth.”

  Phoebe touched Dalton’s arm. “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s just such a waste. Marston’s entire life was a waste. He was greedy and selfish, longing only to do what would gain him the most benefit. He never extended help to anyone else or even tried to make life better for those around him.”

  “He was blind to the truth, but only because he chose to be,” Phoebe replied. “You once told me that such choices are at the very heart of free will. God desires us to come to Him willingly. He won’t impose himself upon us.” She shook her head. “You could not impose God on Marston. He had the right to choose for himself.”

  “You’re right of course, but there is still pain in his passing. He is lost to us forever, and I can’t help but wonder if I had tried harder to show him God’s blessings and benefits . . . well, perhaps he would have accepted the truth.”

  Phoebe raised a single brow. “Who can say but God? For me, I’m almost angry. Angry that anyone could be shown the truth and still deny Jesus.”

  “But Marston didn’t believe it to be truth. He thought his past to be too much for God to forgive.”

  “Of course, that could have just been an excuse,” she said, then immediately looked sorry. “I didn’t mean to speak ill of him. It’s just that people are full of excuses when it comes to repentance.”

  “You know, you’re right. And that gives me a certain sense of relief. I lived an example of God’s mercy in front of Marston. I forgave the past and tried hard to build a relationship with him when he declared such a thing was important to him. He had every opportunity to change and chose not to. The waste of it all—of a human soul—well, that grieves me. But I did all that I could. The rest was up to Marston.”

  “But it’s all right to be sad, isn’t it?”

  He gave his wife a nod and reached out to find comfort in her embrace. Death was never easy to face, but given Marston’s defiance of God, Dalton couldn’t help but feel deep sorrow—the sorrow of losing something that was never intended to be lost.

  Chapter 30

  June 9, 1912

  Yuri waited impatiently for Britta to deliver their third child. Laura played checkers with her little sister Elsa, age four, but from time to time would seek to engage Yuri in conversation.

  “When will the baby come?” she asked for at least the tenth time.

  “Should be anytime now,” Yuri replied, hoping that somehow his comment might be true.

  Elsa looked up from the game. “Papa, why is it so dark?”

  Yuri got up and went to the window. A few days before, the town had received word from the navy that Novarupta—a volcano in the Alaskan peninsula northwest of Kodiak—had erupted. Ash had progressively darkened the skies, and now it was even wreaking havoc with the livestock.

  “Remember I told you about the volcano?” Yuri explained. “The air is full of the ash that came from the eruption.”

  “When will it go away? I want to play outside.”

  “Me too,” Laura said with exaggerated frustration. “Grandma said we would go look for wild rice.”

  “Well, there’s no way of telling how long it will be like this,” he continued. “The word they brought from Kodiak said it was so dark and the ash so thick that a person couldn’t even see a lantern they were holding out in their own hand. They were fortunate to even get the ship out of harbor.”

  “That’s really dark,” Laura said, giving a shudder. “I hope it doesn’t get that dark here.”

  “I doubt it will,” her father replied.

  “Will the volcano get us here?” Elsa asked, coming to crawl up on her father’s lap. “I’m scared.”

  “No, the volcano is far away. It can’t do us any harm here . . . well, except for the ash.”

  “I would like to see it,” Laura said, sounding braver than Yuri knew her to be. She had asked about the volcano’s ability to harm them only two days earlier. “The lava sounds so wonderful. I’ve never seen lava.”

  “Me either,” Yuri told her, “but I don’t really think I’d want to see it. It burns everything it touches.”

  “Are there volcanoes in hell, Papa?” Elsa asked, her eyes wide.

  He shrugged. “I would not be surprised if there were.”

  “Mama said that Mount Edgecumbe used to be a volcano. Will it erupt, too?” Laura asked, frowning. She got up from the checkerboard and made her way to Yuri’s lap. “It can’t erupt now, can it? It has snow on top.”

  “No, it won’t erupt. It’s a dead volcano.”


  A cry of agony broke from Britta. The trio looked to the stairway. Laura spoke for them all. “How much longer will it take?”

  “Well, it took quite a while for Elsa to be born. If I remember right, it was about twelve hours.”

  “But Mama has been hurting for a long time.” Laura shook her head. “I don’t think I will ever have a baby. It must hurt a lot.”

  Elsa nodded at her sister’s comment. “She was hurting yesterday, too.”

  Yuri smoothed back his daughter’s hair. “Your mother says that the pain is worth the joy that comes when the baby is born. She was so happy when you were born that she quickly forgot about all the work to get you here. The baby will come in due time. You have to be patient. The doctor said it shouldn’t be too much longer. Grandma will let us know when the baby is born.”

  “When will Grandpa come back?” Elsa asked. “He promised to play checkers with me.”

  “He had to go to Uncle Dalton’s house to pick up some things for the baby. Be patient.”

  As if on cue, Kjell Lindquist came into the house without so much as a knock. He wore cheesecloth tied around his head, with a heavier kerchief around his mouth and nose. Both were stained from ash. He also held a gunnysack and looked much like a homeless traveler.

  Peeling off the contraption, he smiled down at the girls and Yuri. “I shook as much of this off as I could outside, but it seems the stuff just clings to everything.”

  “It’s fine. The girls and I can clean up any mess you make,” Yuri said, motioning the girls from his lap.

  “Phoebe sent cookies. She figured you might need something to bolster your strength.”

  “Mmmm, Phoebe makes the very best cookies,” Yuri declared, then glanced at the stairs and smiled. “Just don’t tell your mama I said so.”

  “Mama said so, too,” Laura told him. “She told me if I wanted to learn to make cookies, I needed to have Aunt Phoebe teach me.”

  Kjell laughed. “Your grandmother feels pretty much the same way, and I know she can make a good cookie.” He turned to Yuri. “Dalton had a chance to talk to one of the naval officials. He said the ash is killing fish and animals, and has even caused clothes to disintegrate on the line. The man advised Dalton to keep anything of value inside.”

  “What about the horses, Grandpa?” Laura asked.

  “I put them in the shed and closed the door tight. Then I covered the window to filter the dust and ash. I think they’ll be fine.”

  “You and Lydia should probably stay with us tonight,” Yuri encouraged. “That way you won’t have to go back out in this.”

  “Sounds all right by me. I know the horses will be happier.”

  Yuri took the sack from Kjell. “Did they say anything else about the eruption?”

  “It’s finally stopped, but Kodiak is taking the brunt of it. The ash has collapsed roofs, and people are dying from respiratory complications. I’m certainly glad Kjerstin and her family moved to Nome last year. I was heartbroken to have them so far away, but now I’m glad. It would have been a terrible thing for them to endure. Bad enough that so many others are suffering.”

  Yuri put the sack on the table and motioned to the stove. “Coffee’s fresh. Should I pour you a cup?”

  “Thanks, but I can get it myself.” Kjell went to the cupboard for a mug. Just then the sound of a baby crying broke the silence in the house.

  “The baby is here!” Elsa exclaimed and began to dance around.

  Yuri felt the blood rush from his head. He grabbed the back of the chair. How foolish is it to get light-headed now? he thought.

  He looked to Kjell, who just chuckled. “It’s rather like taking a blow to the stomach, isn’t it?”

  “I figured I was an old hat at this.”

  Kjell shook his head. “You never get used to it. It’s shocking and wondrous every time.”

  “Is it a boy or a girl?” Elsa asked her father.

  Yuri shrugged. “We don’t know yet. We’ll have to wait until Grandma comes to tell us.”

  “It’s a boy,” Laura declared matter-of-factly. “I asked God for a boy this time.”

  “What if God decided that you needed another sister?” her grandfather asked.

  Laura seemed to consider this for a moment. “I suppose I would have to say all right.”

  Yuri and Kjell laughed and Elsa clapped her hands. “I want to see the new baby.”

  “Patience, darling,” Yuri told his daughter. “I want to see the baby, too.” But mostly he wanted to see Britta. He wanted to know that she was all right—that she had survived the birth without any complications.

  After what seemed hours, Lydia appeared at the top of the stairs to announce that they could come see the baby. Yuri went first, taking the stairs two at a time. The girls followed at a giggling run, while Kjell brought up the rear.

  Across the blue-and-white room in a bed that Kjell had made for them the previous Christmas, Yuri could see for himself that Britta was fine. She looked tired, but very happy. “Come see our new addition,” she urged. “The doctor is just finishing the exam.”

  “Is it a boy?” Laura asked.

  Britta nodded. “Yes. You finally have a little brother.”

  Laura smiled up at Yuri. “I told you it would be a boy. God always listens to my prayers. Mama said so.”

  “But I also told you that sometimes God says no or wait,” her mother added.

  “I know. But I didn’t think it would matter to God this time,” Laura replied. “We needed a brother. We can have another sister next time.”

  Everyone but Britta laughed at this. Yuri caught her rolling her eyes instead. “I think your mother has done more than enough for a while. We will let her rest and not worry about giving you another sister just yet.”

  “What will we call him?” Laura asked.

  Lydia looked to Yuri and then Britta. “Yes, what will you call him?”

  Yuri smiled as Britta gave the slightest nod and urged him to speak. “We’re calling him Morris James, after the man who brought me to the Lord.”

  Lydia nodded in approval. “How marvelous. I think that’s perfect.”

  “Here’s your son, Britta.” The doctor deposited the baby in her arms. “He looks healthy and strong. Congratulations.”

  Yuri sat on the bed beside Britta and studied the now-quiet baby. “He’s so tiny. I think he looks even smaller than Elsa when she was born.”

  “He’s the perfect size,” Britta countered. “A perfect fit for our family.”

  “And he looks very much like Britta did when she was born,” Lydia threw out.

  “And only Britta would dare to compete with a volcano for such attention,” her father added, putting an arm around Lydia. “You probably should have named him Novarupta.”

  Everyone laughed heartily, but despite the noise, the baby slept on. The earth might well be in turmoil, Yuri thought, but here there was peace and joy.

  The days turned into weeks, and Britta found herself once again amazed at how quickly a baby could change. Morris was already growing and taking on a distinct personality of his own. Britta still found herself fretful that something could happen to the infant, just as she had worried with Elsa, but she tried hard not to let it ruin her happiness.

  Morris was a delightful child whose nature made him quite easy to handle. He seldom cried and most generally waited patiently to be tended. Now as he slept, Britta couldn’t help but gently run her finger over his soft brown hair and marvel at the gift God had given.

  “Is he asleep?” Yuri asked, entering the bedroom.

  “Yes.” She straightened and went to Yuri. “How about the girls?”

  “Dreaming away.”

  Britta embraced her husband. “So finally some time for us.”

  Yuri held her close and stroked her long hair. “If I haven’t told you lately how happy I am, you should probably hear it now. Especially since you are at the very heart of such feelings.”

  Britta pulled away just
far enough to gaze into his eyes. “I’m very glad to hear you say it, Mr. Belikov. I feel the same way about you. I cannot imagine any other life than the one we share together.”

  He put his hand to her cheek. “You don’t regret losing out on the travel and excitement of being a world-class violinist, playing for kings and queens? You don’t miss the music?”

  Britta shook her head. “The music never left me. You and the children are my music.”

  Yuri cupped her chin and kissed her ever so gently. “And you are mine. Like a beautiful serenade.”

  “Funny you should say that,” Britta said. “The oldest type of serenade was actually a composition to honor or express love for someone special. I like very much being a composition to express love for you.”

  “You’ve always been my serenade and more,” he said, gazing at her in wonder.

  “And you are mine,” Britta whispered, leaning her head against his broad chest. “So much of the past was just God’s various interludes to bring us to this moment of perfection. I have no regrets.”

  Yuri’s arms wrapped around her and held Britta tight. No orchestra could have made music as beautiful as his contented sigh. She closed her eyes and smiled.