From Russia With Love

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From Russia With Love Page 3

by Colleen Coble


  “Do you think Irina would like to come with me?” Grace asked.

  Tatiana’s arms tightened around her daughter, but when she saw the gentleness in Grace’s eyes, her tense shoulders relaxed. She spoke gently in Russian to Irina, then handed her to Grace. The little girl went willingly enough and stared up at the older lady with round blue eyes. She reached up and patted Grace’s white hair.

  Gabe suppressed a grin. Mother hated to have her hair messed up.

  But, surprisingly, she didn’t seem to mind as she cuddled Irina and headed toward the escalator. “I’ll meet you at the baggage terminal,” she called over her shoulder as she went.

  Gabe couldn’t help but watch Tatiana’s face as he led her through the terminal. The Indianapolis International Airport was clean and well lit with many beautiful shops and lovely tiled floors. He remembered the ancient Moscow airport he’d been in just two weeks ago and knew she had to be contrasting this airport with the ones in her country. Expressions of wonder and awe flashed across her face as they passed the fast-food places and shops. No wonder the shops were so full of overpriced trinkets. It didn’t take much to impress people who weren’t used to such abundance.

  She saw him looking at her and shrugged. “Never have I seen so many things to buy,” she said. “In my country, it is hard just to find food to buy. It is much to understand.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he said. He flushed at her look of incomprehension. “I mean, you haven’t seen anything yet. There are many stores and shops in every town. My mother will enjoy showing you around.”

  “But not you.” The words were not a question, but a statement.

  Gabe shrugged. “I didn’t have any choice in the matter. If it were up to me, you’d be on the next plane back to Russia. But I love my mother, and her health has not been good. Maybe you’ll be good for her.”

  “You will not give me a chance to show I can be a good wife?”

  “I don’t want a wife. I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is.” Okay, well, maybe he was a bit dissatisfied, but he wasn’t about to admit it to her. He saw his friends with cozy homes, wives, and children—and sometimes wished he could find the right woman for himself. But it certainly wouldn’t be a mail-order bride his brother had ordered for him. What would people think? Did Mike think he was such a poor catch he had to get a wife who’d never met him? And he didn’t know how she felt about God. He wanted a wife who loved the Lord like he did. Mike just had not been thinking when he concocted this harebrained scheme.

  Tatiana didn’t answer his pronouncement that he didn’t want a wife, and he was glad she dropped the subject. It made him feel like a worm squirming on a hook to know he could do something about her plight.

  He stepped onto the escalator, then realized she wasn’t with him. He turned and looked behind him.

  She stood clutching the handrail, her eyes wide with terror. “I cannot.”

  He bounded back up the slow-moving escalator to where she stood. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just an escalator.” He saw her shoulders shaking with fear.

  “I know what it is. Russia is not primitive. These conveyances we have, too. But even in Russia I cannot ride on one. The terror, it rises up and I freeze.”

  He laid his hand on her trembling shoulder. For just a moment he wanted to sweep her into his arms and comfort her. What was wrong with him? It was as though Mike’s revelation that morning had addled his brain. He wasn’t reacting properly to anything. “It’s okay. We can take the stairs.” He pointed to the set of stairs a few feet away.

  By the time they found her baggage, nearly half an hour had passed. He wondered if Mother was getting impatient. He grabbed the suitcase and strode toward the door with Tatiana trailing him. He heard the purr of the engine of his mother’s gray Chrysler LSD as the terminal’s doors slid open. She popped the trunk as soon as she saw him, and he tossed the suitcase in the trunk and slammed the lid.

  The window on his mother’s side slid down noiselessly. “Mike brought me down, and I had him take your car home so we could travel home together. Do you want to drive?”

  “Sure.” Just so he didn’t have to chitchat with the Russian woman. She made him feel like a heel, which was probably exactly what she wanted. Once this trip was over, he could bury himself in the office and leave her in his mother’s hands.

  His mother opened the car door and clambered out. He slid behind the wheel while she settled in the backseat. Tatiana slipped into the seat right behind him, and he could feel her staring at the back of his head. Gabe just wanted this trip over and the woman safely ensconced in the guest cottage where he didn’t have to see her or think about her. And when he got his hands on his brother, he was going to throttle him.

  three

  Tatiana’s eyes burned with unshed tears. It was hard to talk past the lump in her throat. Mrs. Salinger—Grace—as she insisted Tatiana call her, pointed out things along the way as they drove back to Wabash. Tatiana tried to pay attention, but her thoughts were in such a whirl, it was hard to concentrate. What difference did it make that America was beautiful, even covered in snow, or that there were wonderful shops and huge supermarkets and malls everywhere she looked? She wouldn’t get to stay and enjoy it. Irina wouldn’t be allowed to enjoy it. She cast a glare at the back of Gabe’s head. Why wouldn’t he give her a chance? Perhaps he would find he liked her if he let himself get to know her. After all, she had been a good wife once.

  He was so smug and safe here in his homeland; she didn’t know if she even wanted to marry someone so hard and uncaring. He would have put her and Irina back on the plane without another thought if it hadn’t been for his mother.

  Irina, buckled into the seat belt beside her, leaned against Tatiana’s side. Grace asked her about her life in Russia, and she told her about her job as a cook, about Sergio’s death, and the way they’d lived. Grace had fallen silent, finally, and the hum of the big engine was seductive. Tatiana’s body ached with weariness. Maybe she’d just close her eyes for a bit herself. Her eyelids drooped as she settled back into the leather seat.

  Tatiana woke with a start. The car was no longer moving, and she realized the press of her daughter’s warm body was gone. She jerked upright. “Irina!”

  “It’s okay,” Grace said soothingly. “I’ve got her. We’re home.” She opened her door and handed Irina up to Gabe. “Take her up to the old nursery, Gabe,” she said.

  He frowned. “I thought they were going to stay in the guest house.”

  Grace sent him a look of reproof. “Not on their first night here.”

  Gabe’s lips tightened, but he didn’t say anything. He took the sleeping child and carried her toward the house.

  Tatiana swung her stiff legs out of the car and stood on weak knees, which wanted to buckle under her. She stared in awe at the front facade of the house. A wide porch, flanked on each side with massive white pillars, swept the front of the three-story brick mansion.

  “One house this is?” she whispered. Trees lined the long driveway they’d just come down, and the home seemed to be nestled in a small woods. Tatiana couldn’t hear any other cars. The only sounds were birds twittering on the nearby trees. Surely they weren’t in a city?

  Grace tugged on her arm. “Come along, dear. You’ll be frozen in no time with this wind.”

  Tatiana allowed herself to be pulled along the brick sidewalk and up the steps to the massive double doors. A huge brass lantern porch light swung above her head in the wind. She snapped her mouth shut when she realized it was dangling open.

  Grace pushed open the door, and Tatiana followed her inside. Her mouth gaped again as she stepped inside the entry. Brilliantly colored mosaic tile formed a Victorian urn pattern on the floor. A cream wallpaper embossed with the same urn pattern covered the walls. The ceiling, oh, the ceiling! Tatiana had never seen a ceiling like it. It was like looking up into the sky. Clouds drifted across the blue expanse, and cherubs adorned the corners. She stood and gawked.


  Beyond the entry, she spied what was obviously a library with massive walnut shelves that lined gleaming wood floors. On the other side of the entry, she could see into the enormous living room. It was elegantly furnished with antiques and overstuffed furniture that cried out to be sat in. What must it be like to live in a home like this? Tatiana swallowed hard as Gabe came down the sweeping open stairway. She must find a way to keep Irina here.

  “Irina didn’t even wake up when I put her in the bed,” he said. “I could use a Pepsi. Anyone else want one?”

  “Would you ask Martha to fix us some tea?” Grace shrugged out of her coat and hung it in the coat closet. She held out her hand for Tatiana’s coat.

  Tatiana took it off. “Please, I can hang it myself. You must not wait on me.”

  Grace took it from her with a smile. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a young girl to fuss over. The last time was when my niece lived with us for a year while my sister was overseas.” She frowned as she looked at the coat.

  Tatiana felt a wave of heat creep up her neck and onto her cheeks. What must Grace think of her? She knew how it looked. Two waifs with threadbare coats, few possessions, and worn shoes turning up on the doorstep of such a wonderful mansion, almost a castle. Did Grace think she was a gold digger, like Gabe said? Tears of humiliation stung her eyes. These people were much too wealthy. She could never fit in here. She might as well get on the plane and go back to Russia.

  Grace touched her hand. “Don’t fret about things now, dear girl. Come into the parlor and we’ll have some tea. I know you must be exhausted.”

  Tatiana followed her into the large room and sat in the chair by the fireplace. She looked down at the beautiful Persian rug on the floor. Her shoes, laced with numerous holes in the soles, looked out of place on the obviously expensive rug. Grace sat in the chair beside her and kicked off her leather pumps.

  A thin, bird-like woman with frizzy red hair came through the door at the back of the room. She carried a delicate blue and white teapot with matching cups on a tray.

  “Missus, you shouldna been out on these roads,” the woman scolded. She placed the tray on the carved coffee table in front of the chairs. “Now you drink some hot tea and warm up. I brought you some cookies, too. They’re still warm.”

  Grace smiled. “Thank you, Martha. I’d like you to meet Tatiana Lazarenk. Tatiana, this is Martha Wells. She’s been my friend and housekeeper for going on thirty years. Tatiana is going to be staying with us for a few months, Martha. Her three-year-old daughter, Irina, is asleep in the nursery.”

  Martha sniffed. “Just so long as she doesn’t dig up my flowers. Little ones can be terrible destructive. My rose-bushes still suffer from what those two hoodlums of your brother’s did to them last year.”

  “Irina will not bother anything,” Tatiana said hastily. “She is a good child. And we will be in the small house for guests.”

  Martha’s stiff shoulders relaxed a trifle. She turned to Grace. “Would you like me to pour?”

  “No, no, you go along and finish dinner. I’ll pour. Where’s that son of mine?”

  “Which one? Mike dropped Gabe’s car off and lit out of here like he had a fire on his tail. Gabe is raiding my refrigerator and whining about being hungry. I told him dinner wouldn’t be more than a half an hour, but he thought he had to have something now. I took pity on him and gave him a couple of cookies, too.” Martha walked back toward the far door. “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

  Grace nodded, then poured the tea into the two cups. “Sugar?”

  Tatiana hesitated, then nodded. She hadn’t had sugar in so long she could hardly remember what it tasted like. Even tea was a distant memory. She eyed the cookies and found she was suddenly ravenous. She took the cup Grace handed her. The cup looked fragile, so she handled it gently. She closed her eyes and breathed the aroma as she sipped the tea. It was heavenly to roll the sweet liquid around on her tongue.

  The door opened again, and Gabe strolled into the room. Tatiana’s breath caught in her throat at his sudden appearance. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the room.

  He dropped onto the couch and stretched his long legs in front of him. “Mike seems to have turned tail and run. I don’t think he wants to face Tatiana.”

  Grace shook her head. “I’ve scolded him, too. And he deserves anything Tatiana says to him.”

  The thought of what Mike had done broke the contentment that had cocooned Tatiana. She hadn’t yet thought about what she would say to Mike. She dreaded the inevitable meeting. Did he have any idea of what a terrible thing he’d done to her?

  “Have a cookie.” Gabe’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

  She looked at the plate of cookies he was holding out. They looked delicious. All she and Irina had had to eat for so long had been bread with some occasional soup or potatoes. She picked one up. It was still warm.

  “It’s chocolate chip,” Gabe said. “My favorite.”

  She bit into the cookie, and the rich, chocolaty sweetness flooded her mouth. Her eyes widened. She’d never tasted anything so wonderful. Her stomach growled, and she hurriedly swallowed. She took another bite of the cookie, then put it down on her saucer.

  He cocked his head. “Don’t you like it?” There was a faint frown between his eyes.

  She hurried to reassure him. “It is wonderful,” she said. “But Irina will like it, too. I will save some for her.”

  His frown deepened. “There’s lots more where those came from. Martha made a huge batch of them. The cookie jar in the kitchen is full, and Irina can have all she wants. And so can you. Go ahead. Eat it.”

  Hesitantly, she picked up the cookie and stared at him. “Truly, there is more for Irina? I would not want her to miss this good food.”

  “Lots more. I promise.”

  She stared up into his gray eyes. He seemed sincere. Hesitantly, she ate the other half of the cookie. She tried not to wonder how long it would be before she and Irina were back to eating only milk and bread.

  Martha thrust her frizzy red head through the door. “Dinner’s ready. You want me to wake up the little one?”

  “I’ll get her.” Tatiana stood quickly, and a few crumbs fell from her skirt to the floor. “Nyet! Oh, no.” She’d spoiled the carpet. She frantically began to pick up the crumbs with her fingers.

  Grace tugged on her arm. “My dear girl, don’t worry about it. Martha will get it when she vacuums.”

  Tatiana reluctantly got to her feet. She felt terrible about messing up the carpet. She was so clumsy. “Where am I to find Irina?” she asked. Grace looked at Gabe.

  “I’ll show you,” he said. He stood and led the way up the wide, sweeping staircase.

  Tatiana ran her hand along the gleaming wood as she followed him. The surface felt smooth and luxurious under her fingertips. Her feet sank into the plush Oriental runner in the wide hall upstairs. She lost count of the doorways they passed until Gabe stopped at one and opened the door for her.

  A Winnie-the-Pooh theme decorated the large room. Irina lay snuggled under a Pooh comforter, and the brightly colored Pooh wallpaper lifted Tatiana’s spirits immediately. Irina would love this room. A tiny rocker sat in one corner, and a Pooh toy chest overflowing with toys sat against one wall. Even in Russia, the fat yellow bear was popular with the children. She’d never been able to buy Irina one, though.

  “How wonderful,” Tatiana breathed. It was like a storybook room. What must it be like for a child to grow up in a room like this where every item, every stick of furniture, oozed careful thought and love? Irina deserved to find out.

  Gabe grinned. “Mother has kept this same theme since we were small. I was always the Pooh bear, and Mike was Tigger. Our personalities still kind of reflect that. Mike rushes in where angels fear to tread, and I’m always hungry.”

  Tatiana couldn’t repress the smile that came to her face. She remembered what Martha had said about Gabe raiding the refrigerator.

 
“You grew up here?”

  He nodded. “When Dad died, Mother decided she wanted a condo in town. Mike and I kept the big house. But since her health has not been good, she’s come back for a while. Once she gets her diabetes under control, she’ll probably go back to town. She’s very independent.”

  He was kind to his mother. That was a good sign. Walking to the bed, Tatiana pulled back the covers. “Irina,” she whispered, “wake up, my lamb.”

  The little girl’s eyelashes fluttered, and she peered sleepily up at her mother.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Irina seemed to consider this question. “Da,” she said with a nod. She sat up and put her arms around her mother’s neck.

  Grace was seated at the table when they entered the elegant dining room. Tatiana glanced around quickly at the large walnut table, the lovely trinkets, and the dishes in the two china cabinets. Another Oriental carpet was on the floor here, too. How much money did these people have? Tatiana couldn’t begin to imagine.

  “Please sit beside me,” Grace patted the seat to her left. “Martha has brought in Gabe’s old high chair for Irina.”

  Tatiana cast a surreptitious look at Gabe. She couldn’t imagine this self-possessed man ever being a child. She sat Irina in the walnut chair and pushed it up to the table. She didn’t need the tray, so Tatiana left it on the floor beside the chair and slid into the seat beside Grace.

  The aroma of the food made her mouth water. Steaming plates of food covered the white tablecloth. Tatiana’s wondering eyes saw chicken, potatoes, several types of vegetables, hot rolls and butter, gravy, and salad. She couldn’t believe the magnificence of the feast. Did they eat like this all the time? She waited hesitantly to know when to begin.

  Gabe cleared his throat, and Tatiana’s gaze flew to his face. He and Grace bowed their heads, so Tatiana did, too. Were they praying? Yes, they were. They didn’t see her shocked expression. Hesitantly, she bowed her head and closed her eyes.

  Gabe’s deep voice filled the room. “Lord, we thank You for this bounty before us and for Martha’s dear hands that prepared it. Bless it to the nourishment of our bodies. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

 

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