Twilight's Serenade Read Online Free

there was the issue of Laura. Marsha held her like a trump card. She’d ignore the baby and treat her miserably, but when Yuri showed the child the slightest bit of attention, Marsha would put an end to it. She had no desire to be a mother to Laura, but neither did she want Yuri being a loving father.
    It baffled him, but not enough to make him stick around. Yuri figured, like everything else in his life, if he dared to love he would only come up on the short end of things. With that in mind, he left. He left Marsha and Laura, Dalton and Sitka, and struck out for no place in particular. He’d been wandering ever since.
    A nagging voice told him he should go home—that he should try to make the marriage work. But that seemed more impossible than striking it rich from the gold fields. He didn’t love Marsha. He never had, and he had forced himself not to love Laura, either. Sometimes he even told himself that she wasn’t really his child at all—that Marsha had never been faithful to him. That always managed to ease his conscience just a little.
    The thing he hated the most, however, was letting Dalton down once again. Throughout their lives, Dalton had been the only constant Yuri had known. Even his parents had moved away—returning to Russia to care for aging family members. Dalton had remained, however. No matter how often Yuri turned to the bottle—no matter how many times he failed to keep his promises to stay sober, Dalton had forgiven Yuri and given him another chance.
    Just as he’d put Laura from his heart and mind, Yuri had worked with meticulous care to remove the memories he shared with his best friend. But some things couldn’t be forgotten.
    “I’m worthless,” he whispered in the chilled air. The pain in his head was fading, and Yuri found himself falling back to sleep. “I’m not worthy of love or friendship. Not now—not ever.”

    Britta stared at the run-down shack and shook her head. Her fourteen-year-old nephew stood at her side. “Isn’t much of a place, is it?” she murmured.
    “Looks like it could fall down around us. You sure you want to go inside?” Gordon asked.
    “I have to. I need to find clothes for Laura and see if Marsha had anything set aside for the baby.”
    Britta drew a deep breath and headed into the cabin. She had left the children with her mother and Kay, hoping that a trip to the Belikov house might reveal some much-needed supplies. Gordon had accompanied her at Lydia’s request, telling him that she didn’t want Britta to be alone. Who knew what kind of trouble might await her? The doctor had arranged the previous day for the undertaker to come for Marsha’s body, and folks would know that the place was now deserted. It wouldn’t take long for some squatter or renter to take over.
    Britta left the door open, despite the cold, and walked to the only window. Pushing back the dirty draperies, she allowed light to spill into the house.
    “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Gordon told her. “How could anyone live like this?”
    “I don’t know,” she replied. “I felt the same way when I first saw it. Now it seems even worse.” She began picking through the clutter, looking for anything that might be of use for Laura or the baby. She spied a small traveling case in the corner of the room.
    “If you don’t mind, Gordon, check in the other room and see if you can find any of Laura’s clothes. Look for baby things, as well. I’m going to open this trunk to see if there might be something kept in here.” She went to the small chest and pushed aside an array of trash upon it. Tin cans fell to the floor along with wadded-up paper and moldy crusts of bread.
    She knelt beside the piece and reached for the top. The trunk latches were broken, so Britta had no trouble lifting the lid. Inside she found little that would be helpful. There was an old satin gown, hopelessly stained from spills and wear. The material all but fell apart as Britta lifted it out of