I didn’t run.
His lips touched mine, feather soft.
I stepped into his embrace. I allowed my arms to slide up around his neck and pushed all thoughts of flight away. It was incredibly cold, but neither of us noticed. His mittens fell to the ground. My fur hat tumbled off as his hands slid into my hair. Perhaps, he wasn’t worried about lice after all.
“Cut!” Rhys Adaire’s voice rang through the icy Siberian morning. “It’s a wrap, you two. I’ve got my shot.”
Liev stumbled back, his cheeks bright.
“Um…” He stuttered and he stared at the ground, rubbing a circle in the snow with the toe of his boot. “Interestingly enough. I’m glad the wolves didn’t eat you, Faina. And…my folks wanted you to come to our house for the Christmas feast.”
I scowled at the TV crew and retrieved his mittens and my hat. “And did your father, the priest, instruct you to give me this message in such a manner?” I touched my fingers to my lips and took a careful step back, lest I launch myself upon him and renew our kiss.
“Now look, you were about to be eaten and suchlike…it was my duty to give the message in whatever way seemed right.” His blush grew brighter. “And…I have missed you, more than you could know. I needed you to see that before you could run away again.” He held out his hand. “I would be honored to escort you to dinner, Miss Faina. It will be just the ticket, what with you starving and freezing and chased by wolves. Will you come?”
He had a point. A Christmas feast did sound like “just the ticket.” And though it pained me to admit it, I did spend a fair amount of time running away. I looked at Liev’s hand, and then up into his eyes. Perhaps I had not given him sufficient time to explain himself before I took flight. It had been six years, a lot can change in that amount of time.
I took Liev’s hand and stepped closer. “Yes.”
Chobo pranced over and sat on my toes, her curly tail thumping. I wished I’d kept some of the reindeer jerky for her. “Good girl, Chobo. Good dog.” Chobo slurped my arm and woo woooed out an enthusiastic “you’re welcome.”
Then, hand in hand, we found the hidden door behind the stone alcove. Liev and I descended the secret stair and walked through the escape tunnel toward town, where my first Siberian Christmas feast awaited.
21
A Christmas Gala After All
One Year Later
The soft lighting from the ballroom glowed and the gentle strains of the orchestra filled every empty space in the castle.
Instead of joining Rasia’s wealthy friends, the townspeople, and the orphans on the dance floor, I stood by the window looking out at the dark winter night.
This particular window was the perfect vantage point from which to catch a glimpse of the orphanage. The flat, gray building remained unchanged on the outside, but inside it was a new creation. We were alike that way.
I had arrived in Siberia on the wings of tragedy. Chaos and murder and the best of intentions gone wrong. But I had not stayed there. No longer was I that broken little girl, trapped in a place without love. I had given my heart to those around me. I had rocked babies until my love was spent and learned to keep rocking them, even then. I had left Ms. Melora and her cold, efficient ways behind and forged something new.
The evil in life is so palpable that it could snatch away one’s breath and freeze one as surely as the relentless cold of a Russian storm.
But God had not walked away when tragedy took me by the hand.
I had become something else in the moment our plane crashed. And now I was changing again. I had become a Russian, an orphan, a different girl than before. It wasn’t for a grand noble reason. It was all an accident.
But He had done the same for me. God put off his royal robes and donned a dusty tunic. He had accepted the insults of the priests devoted to serve Him, and a bloody end nailed high for all to see.
Could I refuse to live the life I found myself in, when I knew that He had lived out such a terrible change for my salvation? For the salvation of us all?
He had helped me chose love when I could have filled myself with hate. God had showed me that good things come even in the midst of the darkness.
Though nothing made sense, I was not abandoned. God was at work. His powers extended beyond our ability to destroy.
My hair was no longer a ragged sweep of blonde against my neck. It was long enough to pile up into a cascade of curls, complete with a very girly tiara. The girls from the orphanage had chosen it from a catalogue for me.
At only nineteen, I was an important woman now. The wealthiest individual in our vicinity and the main force behind the changes at the orphanage. But besides all that, I was the one who had loved them. I smiled. Perhaps their choice was wiser than I realized. Didn’t everyone who chose to love receive a crown?
My old home had changed with me. I wore my mother’s gown, a last gift from my father packed away safely in the long black box within Kirill Volkov’s old trunk.
The orphanage had fresh paint and new floors. Instead of plain gray walls, there were murals depicting stories from the Bible and famous children’s literature. I had converted an old storage room into a library with thick carpet, bean bag chairs, and row upon row of colorful books. Next spring, if my investments in the local fish market brought a profit, I would install an actual playground. Neither of us were the same as we had been, the orphanage and I.
The heavy layers of satin in my dress rustled as I stepped back from the window. The dress was all shades of blue, like a sunlit river that changes colors the deeper one looks. Blue like the dark depths of a fishing hole rustled about my feet. Then the gray-blue of heavy, rushing waters. The paling blue of the lakeshore on a summer day. Followed by the splashing blue of a waterfall under sunlight. My father had chosen well. A late Christmas gift, the card read, just because he loved her. It was amazing the gown had survived, just like me.
I started as work-worn hands lightly cupped my shoulders.
“The children wait. They want to see if you tell the truth and have actually learned to dance.”
I turned around.
Liev’s smile stilled my breath. He was incredibly handsome in a crisp, black tuxedo. His dark hair was newly cut and the clean scent of leather and forest mixed with the faint spice of his shaving soap. He took my hand, kissing my fingertips as though I were not just an orphaned girl who had once been bald. As though he were not a simple valenki maker and the son of a poor village priest. As though we were something amazing and rare.
And I supposed that we were. God had made us, the craftsman and the homeless waif. God made us to do great things in simple ways and forgotten places.
I slipped my arm into his and he guided me to the grand stair.
Candlelight danced from ancient, tiered candelabras and flickered in ten foot mirrors. The scent of rich foods mingled with the smell of the roses that Rasia and her decorators had shipped in. Children spun and laughed and licked sugar off their fingers. Children who could laugh, because I had held them on dark nights when we were alone.
These little ones didn’t sit in corners rocking themselves in silence. No, these babies lived, because I had been thrown among them, hurting and dying for love. Yes, there was beauty here, even in the sorrow.
I descended the stairway on Liev’s arm, and the children rushed forward. They rumpled my dress with hugs and left sticky places on my cheek with their kisses. Together we danced. Under the candlelight, to the strains of music that seemed to truly be made for Heaven.
Later we feasted upon roast boar, goose with apples, venison, and whole fish drenched with herbs and butter. After tasting blini with caviar and herbs we finished the evening by indulging in every variety of sweet. Russian plum cake, cheese and cherry sweet bread, apricot torte, Napoleon cake, and baked apples. The sweets were served with steaming Chinese tea poured from a silver samovar.
I popped a blueberry tartlet into my mouth, licking the sweet sour cream topping from my fingers before any of
our more proper guests noticed.
I would have preferred my parents return, rather than this lavish feast, even with the knowledge that a great amount of money would be donated to the orphanage after tonight.
If my ten-year-old self had looked forward to this day, she probably wouldn’t have recognized me. But I had survived and there was good here too. Beauty and hope in the middle of the weeping; that is what God had stayed by my side to bring about. I would take it. There was heartache as well, but the beauty was enough for me to go on.
Liev bowed over my hand once it was clean and pastry free. We danced one more time. Then he knelt in the center of the ball room floor with a simple gold band and his heart in his eyes.
I ignored the fact that I was still a teenage girl and that he was only twenty-one. I pressed down the instinct to run from the room. A lifetime commitment was a huge thing. Fear curled around my spine and nothing came out when I opened my mouth. But I knew what I wanted. Since my voice had abandoned me, I simply held out my left hand as my pulse raced in my ears.
Liev slid the ring onto my finger and softly kissed the inside of my palm. His eyes were laughing as he stood, although his arms pulled me close for another dance. He had seen the entire struggle on my face, but that was OK. Liev knew me and loved me all the same.
With his ring glinting from my hand, I let my gaze run over the faces of the crowd.
All were smiling, not just the children, but the villagers and wealthy guests as well. To them, I was not a ragged-haired waif without a past or even an actual name. I was a friend, an employer, someone who had tugged on their heartstrings and then demanded that they do something real about it. I was more than an orphan to these who didn’t even truly know me. How much more was I in the eyes of my Lord?
So I put the mysteries of the past behind, took the hand of my love, and trusted that there were good things ahead. Would there be tragedy? Of course there would. But I knew that there would also be beauty and glory and love.
God was ever working, even in the very depths of our dark and terrible world.
Liev pulled me against him for a kiss, and I slid my arms around his neck and let the moment between us freeze in time. As he cupped my jaw in his wide, strong hands, I melted into his embrace. It was a miracle.
I thanked the Lord for all that He had accomplished with just two simple souls in the wilds of Siberia. God was doing amazing things out here in the bitter cold. That was something I could take a stand for. No, Faina Hailey Ann Barnett-Smith would not be fleeing anymore.
Liev and Faina’s Siberian Christmas Feast Recipes
Siberian Dumplings or pelmeni
Dough:
2 large eggs
½ cup water
1 Tbsp. olive oil
½ tsp. salt
½ tsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. sour cream
3 cups flour
Filling:
1/2 a large onion, grated
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 chub country sausage
3-5 dashes hot sauce
Garnish:
black pepper
fresh dill
melted butter
Dip in lemon juice, sour cream, or vinegar.
Procedure:
To Make the Dough:
Wisk together the wet ingredients.
Add the salt and sugar.
Change mixer to the bread hook. Slowly add flour until a soft stretchy dough is formed that no longer sticks to the side of the mixer.
Wrap in cellophane and let sit 30 minutes in the refrigerator.
To Make the Filling:
Grate the onion and sauté in olive oil.
In a bowl, stir onion into raw sausage and hot sauce.
Putting it all together:
Boil a pot of salted water or beef broth.
Roll dough into 1” thick snakes.
Cut off a chunk of dough about the size of a gumball.
Roll out the dough into a thin circle, making sure there are no holes.
Place 1 tsp. of the raw meat mixture into the circle.
Fold over into an ear shape and press closed; there should be no air bubbles.
Fold up the corners of the ear into a little packet shape. Or you can just leave them shaped like ears.
Once you have ten dumplings, drop them into the pot. When they rise to the surface let them boil for 1-2 minutes longer. They should boil for at least 5 minutes total.
Remove with a slotted spoon.
Drizzle in melted butter.
Sprinkle with black pepper and dill.
Serve with melted butter, lemon juice, sour cream, or vinegar.
****
Salmon Potato Salad—losos’-kartofel’nyy salat:
Ingredients
8 ounces roasted, smoked, or canned salmon, flaked
2 large red potatoes, cubed and boiled until just tender
1 bunch of green onions, diced
2 ribs celery, diced
6 small radishes, thinly sliced
2 Tbsp. fresh dill chopped, plus dill for garnish
1 small garlic clove, crushed
4 large hard-boiled eggs, diced
2/3 cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream
1-2 Tbsp. lemon juice
salt and pepper
Procedure:
Cube and cook the potatoes until tender, about 20 minutes, cover and cool in the refrigerator.
Hard boil the eggs. Let cool, peel, and chop into small chunks.
Finely chop all of the vegetables and herbs.
Whip the cream until frothy but not completely stiff. Add the mayonnaise, lemon juice, salt, and pepper.
Mix all the ingredients together in a large bowl. Garnish with dill and chill until ready to serve.
****
Russian Blueberry Tartlets—chernika tartaletki
Pastry Dough:
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 Tbsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup very cold unsalted butter, grated with a cheese grater.
2/3 cup ice water
Filling:
3 cups fresh or frozen (unthawed) blueberries
½ cup fresh diced lemon
3 Tbsp. sugar
3 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
Finish:
1/2 cup sour cream
3-4 Tbsp. sugar
2 Tbsp. lemon juice
Garnish:
confectioners’ sugar
whole mint leaves
grated lemon zest
Process:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
In bowl mix flour, sugar, and salt. Using a cheese grater, grate in the cold butter until well mixed. Sprinkle in water while stirring until a firm dough is formed. Wrap dough in cellophane and refrigerate.
In a separate bowl, mix together blueberries and cut lemon pieces. Stir in 3 Tbsp. of sugar and 3 Tbsp. of flour.
Roll out pastry dough and cut into 4” to 4 ½” circles.
Press the dough circles into a greased muffin pan.
Fill pastry with blueberry mixture.
Bake for 15-20 minutes.
In bowl, stir together the sour cream, lemon juice, and sugar.
When tarts are finished baking, spoon sour cream mixture over top of the tarts while they are still hot. Sprinkle with powdered sugar and garnish with fresh mint leaves and a small amount of grated lemon peel.
Thank you…
for purchasing this Watershed Books title. For other inspirational stories, please visit our on-line bookstore at www.pelicanbookgroup.com.
For questions or more information, contact us at [email protected].
Watershed Books
Make a Splash!™
an imprint of Pelican Ventures Book Group
www.PelicanBookGroup.com
Connect with Us
www.facebook.com/Pelicanbookgroup
www.twitter.com/pelicanbookgrp
To receive news and speci
als, subscribe to our bulletin
http://pelink.us/bulletin_
May God’s glory shine through
this inspirational work of fiction.
AMDG
Free Book Offer
We’re looking for booklovers like you to partner with us! Join our team of influencers today and receive at least one free eBook per month. Maybe more!
For more information
Visit http://pelicanbookgroup.com/booklovers
or e-mail
[email protected]
The Volk Advent Page 10