Twilight's Serenade by Tracie Peterson Page B

stopped there first.”
    Lydia got to her feet. “I should go to her. She’ll be quite upset.”
    “I’ll go with you,” Kay said, getting to her feet.
    “We can drive you,” Evie said, also standing. “I’m sure that more news will come in as it’s available. Perhaps we could even contact someone elsewhere in California to see if we can get additional information.”
    “That’s a good idea,” Lydia said, taking up her shawl. “I know someone in Sacramento. I could telegraph them and see if they can give us insight.” She turned to Britta. “Can you tend to supper?”
    “Yes, Mother. I’ll see to everything, and Yuri is here to help if I need anything else.”
    Lydia looked to Yuri and once again felt a sense of relief. “I’m glad you’re with us.” She pushed aside thoughts of how bad the situation might be. There was no sense in borrowing trouble. Kjell and Dalton could very well be perfectly fine.
    Then again, they might be dead.

    “I’m sorry about this,” Yuri told Britta.
    She nodded, still unable to comprehend the news. “I don’t know what to think. Earthquakes can be . . . devastating.” She looked at him, hoping he might contradict her comment. When he didn’t, she continued. “But Father and Dalton are very sensible, and Mother says they were staying in the finest hotel in San Francisco. Surely that would afford a great deal of protection.”
    She got to her feet and turned away as tears came to her eyes. What if they were dead? What if they were buried under the rubble, fighting for their lives? It was too horrible to think about. A sob escaped her and Britta buried her face in her hands.
    Hearing Yuri’s chair move, she was certain he would come to her. Even so, when he took her in his arms and turned her to face him, Britta wasn’t ready for the charge that coursed through her. She cried all the harder, and he pulled her against him.
    “It will be all right,” he promised. “God hasn’t forgotten them or us. We will pray for their safety and return.”
    Britta buried her face against his chest and let her tears flow. Since returning home, she hadn’t allowed her emotions to best her, and now with this news, it seemed that everything had come rushing to the surface. Why did life have to be so difficult? Why were there so many painful choices and situations? She clung to him, as though letting go might forever banish her to some unknown void.
    I love him so dearly, she thought. I need him more than ever, and he can’t even see how much he means to me.

Chapter 8

    Y uri tried hard to get to know the girls better. With Laura it was easy. She was his, and she was a fun-loving child. Often she would come and take his hand, pulling him along to see some new discovery.
    “See, Papa,” she would say and point to a bird or a rock that she found particularly interesting. Sometimes she would stop and bid him listen to the wind in the trees. With a smile as big as the sun, she would look up at him and whisper, “Pretty.”
    He found his affection for her growing each day. In the past, Marsha’s jealousy over his interest in Laura had caused her to treat the child in a hateful, vindictive manner. She not only treated Laura poorly, but she taunted Yuri, telling him that she wasn’t even sure Laura was his daughter. Yuri hadn’t cared, however, and that served only to cause Marsha to treat Laura all the worse. Perhaps that was why he’d eventually stopped trying. He remembered when he’d tried to help Laura learn to walk. Marsha had been angry at the attention he’d given the child, and without warning she snatched Laura up and tied her into a chair, where the little girl sat for hours on end. Yuri had tried to intercede—to point out that Laura needed to get down and play, but Marsha told him to go back to what he knew best—his bottle.
    Yuri shook off the memory. Marsha was gone. She couldn’t come between him and his daughter now. He was free to love Laura, free to give her