by Caroline Lee
“Lovely? Oh, honey, I’m going to need more details than that! Have another éclair and tell me everything.”
Zelle never could keep a secret from her friend—and she did have chocolate. So she told Briar all about sneaking out—she glossed over the hows, because she still wasn’t sure who Helga had been—and meeting Dmitri. She told about the afternoon and the conversations and the way he made her feel, when he spoke to her as an equal, and respected her opinion, and seemed to understand the real Zelle Carpenter. And then she told all about his kisses, and how they made her feel, until Briar was pink with envy and they were both giggling.
“You kissed a duke, Zelle! Or is he a prince?”
“Dmitri says that the title means about the same thing. There are many ‘princes’ in his country, which is why, in England, the title was considered similar to ‘duke’.”
“Well, I’m calling him a prince, since it sounds more romantic. You kissed him! Do you love him?”
Leave it to Briar to be so direct. “I…I don’t…” Zelle sighed. “Yes. I know it’s silly, to fall in love with someone so quickly, but… He sees me. Who would’ve thought that a man like him could show up someplace like this, and be the first one to really understand me in…ever?”
“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s to-die-for handsome, either, does it?”
Zelle rolled her eyes at her friend’s smirk, and ignored the jabby elbow again. “I guess not, no.”
“And a good kisser, hmmmm?”
“Why do you keep nudging me? Just say what you mean!”
“I mean, Zelle, that he’s handsome, and special, and he kissed you beside Lake Enchantment. Obviously you’re going to fall in love with him.”
“You think that this is just some silly infatuation, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“…In so many words, no. But you’re thinking it.”
Briar put one arm around Zelle, and the slimmer girl laid her cheek against the offered shoulder. “I am not. I’m thinking that you’ve been trapped by your wonderful, over-protective parents for far too long, and it’s about time that you got out and got to experience love. Your first love.”
“He’s a duke, Briar.” Zelle heard the desolation in her own voice.
“And you think that he couldn’t love you in return?”
“He has responsibilities back home. Russian dukes do not stay in dusty Wyoming towns, no matter how nice the kissing is. He’s going to go home to his horses.”
Briar kissed her forehead. “Well, then, what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You love him, and you’re not sure how he feels about you, is that it?”
Zelle sighed. “It’s probably for the best. Maybe this is just an infatuation.”
“Do you really think that?”
There, in the garden, Zelle considered. Considered the way she’d been treated her entire life. Considered the way the men of Everland thought of her. Considered how the people around her—everyone except Briar—saw her as someone who needed protecting. Considered how it had taken a foreigner to see her as she really was; for the first time in her entire life, someone who understood her well enough to be willing to remove his shoes and relax in the grass, despite his fine clothes and finer attitude.
“No.” No, this wasn’t an infatuation. Briar had called it her first love, but Zelle knew that it would be her only. No man would ever understand her as well as Dmitri did.
“Then do something. Fight for him.”
Zelle snorted. “Like what? Run away together? I couldn’t do that to Mother and Papa.”
“Well, I was thinking of something not quite that level of drastic. Like, inviting him to dinner, maybe.”
Leave it to Briar to make her chuckle when Zelle’s heart felt so heavy. “My parents have forbidden me to see him, remember? They think he’s bad news.”
Briar leaned away, forcing Zelle to sit up and look at her best friend. “I think that you need to figure out how Dmitri feels about you. You’ve fallen in love with him, but has he fallen in love with you?” Her friend’s words set the pit opening in Zelle’s stomach all over again. What if this was all just…just fun to him? What if he didn’t feel nearly the same way about her as she did about him?
Zelle didn’t know how to respond, and Briar seemed to understand. She squeezed the slimmer girl’s shoulders, as if trying to make her understand. “The only way to figure that out is to spend more time with him, right? And the only way for that to happen is to convince your parents to let you.”
“But they—“
“They might, if you invited him to dinner, and made them all sit down together. After all, if you love him, he’s a good man, right?”
“Right.” Even now, confused about so many things, Zelle knew that. Knew that Dmitri was a good man, empirically.
“So make them see that. They’ll see the way you feel about him, and they will see that. And then they’ll let you spend more time together, and you’ll be able to find out his feelings.”
Her friend’s words sent an odd sort of lightness through Zelle. It took a moment to realize why. Optimism. She was, for the first time today, optimistic about something. She could invite Dmitri to dinner, and he’d impress her parents with his manners and his attention and his utter wonderfulness, and they’d understand why she wasn’t going to stay away from him. She loved him, and she wanted to see him as often as possible.
And maybe by spending that time with him, he’d fall in love with her in return.
“Ahh, I see that you’re cheered up now.” Briar pulled her down for a kiss on Zelle’s forehead, and then stood up, brushing dust from her skirt. “I’m heading home, then. But I mean it, Zelle.” She pierced her friend with a serious stare. “Invite him to dinner. Prove to your parents that he’s worthy of you. Make him fall in love with you. And then quit moping.”
Zelle smiled, and her cheeks felt odd. “I will. And thank you for the eclairs.”
Briar blew a kiss as she paused by the gate. “I knew you loved them, and it sounds like you need as much chocolate as you can get.” And then she was gone, and Zelle was alone in the garden once more.
Invite him to dinner. Show her parents that Dmitri was a good man. Make him fall in love with her, just like Helga instructed.
Fall in love?
Suddenly, the day was looking up, after all.
“So you’re thinking about sticking around, huh?”
“No. I’ve thought about it already. Now I’m trying to make it happen.”
Max helped himself to the bottle of whiskey Dmitri had set on the table, smiling slightly. “A prince in Everland. Who would’ve thought it?” He poured a generous serving into each of the two glasses sitting beside the bottle, and passed one to Dmitri. “Well, my father, I suppose. He always said that his parents named him ‘Roy’ because he was destined to be a cattle king.” Max swallowed all of the harsh liquor in one gulp, and then winced and stared at the empty glass in his hand. “Which would make my brother the prince, I guess.”
“Not you?” Dmitri hadn’t touched his glass.
“Nah.” Max refilled his, but left it sitting on the table. “Roy, Jr. is…” The dark-haired man laughed, but Dmitri could tell it was forced. “Well, maybe we should call you a duke, anyhow. Your Grace, maybe?”
Dmitri was willing to let the other man shy away from a subject he obviously didn’t want to touch. After all, if he was successful tonight, Max would be his partner, and hopefully his friend. “How about just ‘Dmitri’?”
This time Max’s smile was genuine, and Dmitri could see why he was a town favorite. “Deal. So tell me why you dragged me into town and poured the Gingerbread House’s terrible whiskey down my throat?”
“Oh, you had something more important to do?” Dmitri snorted when Max acknowledged the hit by picking up his glass and offering a little toast. “I have a proposition for you, but the whiskey is subpar. After we come to a
n agreement, and I find a place to stay in this town, I will see about importing some worthwhile vodka. There are certain luxuries that a man cannot do without.”
Taking a sip of the liquor, Max nodded. “I’ll join you, friend. If you’ll tell me about this proposition.”
“I want your thoroughbreds.”
The denial was swift and angry. “You can’t have them. I fought my brother and father to keep them, and I’ll damn well fight you too.”
Hoping to calm the other man, Dmitri held up his hands, palms out, and watched Max settle back against the wooden chair, whiskey still gripped in one hand. The darker man bristled, but looked less likely to jump across the table. “You misunderstand.”
“I hope so.”
“Let me tell you a story.” Max’s shoulders relaxed, but his brow remained furrowed as he listened. “My family has bred and trained horses for generations. We have been very good at it. We were given the Knez title for it, in fact. My grandfather built an empire, and my father expanded it. But I…” Dmitri’s gaze dropped to the glass of amber liquid clutched between his hands. “I have made a mess of it. My father’s death-bed demand has sent me gallivanting across three continents, and led me here. I am sure that the program is going to dermo in my absence, because Orlov can only do so much.”
“Who is Orlov?” Max shifted one ankle across the opposite knee, telling Dmitri that his new friend had relaxed.
“Count Alexei Orlov is my neighbor, back home. He is also a breeder, and has some… ideas. Good ideas, I think, about crossing breeds, not worrying so much about purity of bloodlines, but breeding for elegance and strength and speed. His grandfather, for whom he is named, became famous for a new type of horse—the Orlov Trotter—very popular. For years, he has been after my family to sell him some of our Kabarda mares, to work into his bloodline.” And for years, Otets denied the requests, refusing to allow the Volkov bloodlines to be sullied. “I have men I trust with my horses, but I left Orlov in charge of the breeding program this spring.” Dmitri sighed, toying with his glass. “And I know that his program would come first, in his mind.”
“Sounds like you should head home, to take care of things.”
“I can’t.” He knew he sounded pathetic.
“Because of Zelle.” Max finally took another sip of the whiskey, probably to try to hide the smile that Dmitri could still see.
There was no use denying it. “Because of Zelle.” He took a deep breath. “My family lost much when the Tsar emancipated the serfs. Holdings, money, prestige. There is little besides the horses left for me at home, now that Otets is dead.”
“Do you know where I lived before my father dragged us out here to Everland, after the war?” Max didn’t wait for an answer. “South Carolina.” Dmitri was vague on American geography, but knew it was in the part of the country that had once fought to be separate. Had once fought to keep their slaves and their way of life. “My point is that we—I—am familiar with the concept of not having a hell of a lot to go back for. Of working hard to start over someplace new.”
Dmitri nodded. “Yes.” And finally, he tasted the whiskey. Bah. It wasn’t worth imbibing. “My plan is to sell most of my stock to Orlov, who will incorporate them into his own program. I will bring a few dozen animals—the ones with the best bloodlines, I think—here to Everland. I will purchase property and will build a home and start a new program.” He shifted forward in his chair, elbows braced. “And I want you to be part of it.”
Max plunked his glass onto the table. “Why me? You’ll have the money to go at it alone.”
“Because I trust you. And because I want to do what Orlov has done.”
Understanding dawned in his almost-new-partner’s eyes. “You want to cross your Kabardas with my thoroughbreds.”
“Yes. And I want more. I will provide the money, if you will find and purchase more thoroughbreds to breed with my horses. In a few years, we will have a herd worth mentioning.” Again.
“No.” Max’s denial surprised Dmitri, who hadn’t been expecting it, and his smile proved that he knew it. “I’ll partner with you, because I’d be a fool not to. But I’ll buy the thoroughbreds myself. I want to be a full partner.”
Dmitri fiddled with the glass while he pondered. He didn’t know how much money his new partner had, but he understood the desire to contribute to the enterprise. So he nodded. “Done. We will each provide animals. I will provide the location. You will provide the American ingenuity.”
He held his hand out across the table, and Max’s return grip was strong. They shook, and Dmitri knew they’d make good partners. Equals.
Who would’ve thought, when he left Russia, that he’d consider staying in a place like Everland? A place full of cowboys and dust? But the more he allowed himself to get to know these American peasants—men like Doctor Carpenter and Max—the more he knew that he couldn’t allow himself to be blinded by old prejudices. Serfdom was a thing of the past, as was slavery here in America. The new ways said that all men were born equal, and as he shook his new partner’s hand, Dmitri knew it was the truth. It had taken someone like Zelle, and someplace like Everland, to show him.
“Now, I said I wanted to be a full partner, but I’ll admit that you know a hell of a lot more about how to manage this.” Max’s attention was half on Dmitri, half on the long-haired man who’d just walked through the door. When the newcomer looked their way, Max lifted his glass in greeting. “I’ll let you take the lead in figuring all this out, and I’ll start asking around for other thoroughbreds for sale. I heard there’s an outfit outside of Cheyenne with some beauties.”
“I will manage what needs to be done.” He’d spent the last three days—the days since that incredible afternoon with Zelle—figuring out how to do what needed doing. “I will—“
He’d been about to explain that he’d need to return to Russia once more, to choose the animals that would start the breeding program here in America, as well as oversee the packing of his personal items, when the long-haired stranger pulled up a chair at their table and made himself comfortable.
“I see ye’ve made friends with the mysterious duke, Max. Why aren’t I surprised?” The newcomer spoke with an accent that Dmitri finally placed as Scottish. His hair was a light brown, and fell past his shoulders, but his eyes were a friendly blue and surrounded by lines that said he laughed often. When he offered Dmitri his hand, his grip was strong. “Gordon McKinnon. Ye’re Dmitri Volkov, right?” And then a wink. “Or is it m’lord?”
Dmitri had spent years in England. Years in which he’d accepted the respect due to him as a son of a Russian prince, and a grandson of an English Earl. And yet, here, the title seemed…silly. Just like he’d felt somehow silly for wearing his finery to go walking with Zelle. Here in Everland, men weren’t lords just because they were wealthy, or because their fathers were important. Here, men were equal.
So he shook Gordon’s hand. “Just Dmitri, thank you.”
Max spoke up. “I’m surprised y’all haven’t met yet. Gordy’s in here most evenings.”
“As I would be too, if there was any decent vodka in the establishment.”
The other two laughed, and Gordon swallowed some of his beer. “Ah, ye’ll get used to it. I’ve only been in town fer a few months, but Max quickly showed me the best parts of Everland.”
“Did you escape Yacob’s clutches tonight?”
Gordon scowled at Max’s question, and the ensuing conversation taught Dmitri all about his new friend; he worked part-time for a blind musician he’d served for years as a sort of combination housekeeper, cook, and valet. Now that the musician had married—and Dmitri got the impression there was some kind of story there, but he didn’t ask—Gordon was able to spend his time working at Spratt’s Eatery, which was apparently his passion. When asked, Gordon admitted that he was the one responsible for the Beef Stroganov that Dmitri had so enjoyed the evening before.
“But Spratt is so short-sighted! A town like this deserves opti
ons.” Apparently Gordon wasn’t thrilled with his current position. “Someplace with a menu, fer heaven’s sakes.”
Dmitri agreed. “Spratt’s Eatery is rather take-what-you-get, isn’t it?”
“An’ fer those prices, I suppose Everland can’t complain, but…”
Max interrupted, which he was good at. “But Gordy’s got dreams. Once he can scrape together the funds, we’re going to have a grand restaurant, with real waiters and maitre d’s and other Frenchy-sounding stuff.”
Gordon lifted his glass, and Max joined in the toast. “An’ it’ll be gorgeous. An’ I’ll show Everland what they’ve been missing all these years.”
The three men laughed, and before he’d realized it, a half-hour had gone by. Thanks to Max’s gregarious ways, he and Gordon had become friends too. The newcomer had helped himself to Dmitri’s discarded whiskey when he’d finished his beer, and now sat back in his chair. “And ye, Yer Grace?” They all chuckled at the banter. “I heard yer in town looking fer a man. Did ye speak with Sherriff Cutter about it?”
“It’s no use.” Dmitri sighed, willing to admit defeat. “The man I’m looking for would’ve come to Everland quite a long time ago. Fifteen years, probably. And I’m sure he didn’t stay; just passed through. Perhaps on his way to Oregon?”
Max took over the explanation. “He spoke to everyone who was around back then, and no one remembered anyone by that name. Even Doc Carpenter, who seems to know everyone.”
Gordon agreed. “I’ll say. He and his wife have been here forever, although that pretty daughter of theirs doesn’t come out often.”
The flash of jealousy that rose when Gordon so casually mentioned Zelle’s beauty took Dmitri by surprise. He’d never before felt so…so possessive of a woman before. But this woman was special. This woman was the one who had him giving up his grandfather’s legacy, moving across the world, to court. This woman would be his.