by Dianne Drake
Dimitri headed for the door. Once there, he turned back to Michael. “If you were to leave here a.m.a. tonight—” meaning against medical advice “—I would suggest that you go straight to a little cabin down the main road and find yourself a warm place with a hot-blooded Russian doctor and start fighting for that reward.”
“I’m afraid that warm place might turn out to be chilly one,” he replied.
“But chilly usually warms if you have the patience.”
Michael listened to Dimitri’s footsteps fade down the hall, then jumped out of bed, traded the hospital garb for his own, and ran to the closest exit. So far tonight Alek had ignored him, his mother had rebuked him and Dimitri had warned him. If he were smart, he’d run for the Jeep and get the hell out of Elkhorn, and leave the lot of them to their own little follies.
But for one brief moment in the airplane he’d allowed himself to envision more with Alek than she wanted to give him. And he wanted that. For the first time in his life, he truly knew what he wanted.
“Don’t get used to this,” Alek warned her team as she hefted several tin plates outside with leftover scraps from her freezer. She’d cooked her dogs a hodgepodge of those unlabeled, unrecognizable frozen things—the dribs and drabs she’d frozen over the months with the full intention of pulling them out and eating them someday. All had been buried in a thick frost when she’d retrieved them, and she’d simply dumped them into a large pot to defrost them. “You know most dogs don’t have it this good,” she said, bending down to receive her fair share of licks and nuzzles from them.
“Most people don’t, either,” Michael commented from the back doorway.
“I thought you were to stay in the hospital tonight.”
“And I thought you were coming to see me.” He stepped back to let Alek pass by, then followed her through the kitchen. “I waited.”
“I was busy.”
“Which is just as well, because I finally had a talk with Dimitri. Nice man, as it turns out.”
She shot him a surprised look. “And you two didn’t beat each other up? Actually, I don’t think you could take another good beating, and I think Dimitri would get the best of you. Good thing he took pity.” The look in his eyes was so serious it scared her. She was so close to wanting him, but what she and Michael had would never go beyond that last kiss. “So, have you changed your mind about him?”
“Maybe, but I talked with my mother, too. I tried to, anyway, but she wouldn’t say anything about it other than it’s none of my business.”
“Which is what Dimitri told me. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the last of it.”
“Which means I can leave here right now. Go back to Seattle and my job there. Forget all of this ever happened.”
“If that’s what you want.” She straightened up, then wandered into the living room, thought about laying a fire for the night, then decided to turn up the propane heater. It was easier, and the fire would have been too cozy. Tonight, she didn’t want cozy.
“You kissed me, Alek. What was that about? Because from where I was, it didn’t seem like it was about you wanting me to leave here.”
She shrugged, trying to put on an air of indifference. “One of those spur-of-the-moment things that happen, I suppose. Giving in to the moment. Overcome with relief.” An impulse borne of something she would not allow to invade her thoughts.
“And that’s all it was to you?”
“That’s all,” she lied, then turned away from him before he read that lie on her face. “No big deal.”
“You know Dimitri doesn’t want me to leave.”
“That’s what he told you?” she asked, staring out the front window to the desolate street. The snow wasn’t particularly deep for October, but it got dark earlier now and people didn’t wander out much. Michael shouldn’t have come out because there was nothing here for him—not what he wanted.
“That, among other things.”
She finally turned around to face him. “Well, the one thing you can always count on from Dimitri is that he’s always going to tell you something. He’s been telling me since I was seven, and it’s never slowed down.” She smiled fondly. “Sometimes he even tells you what you want to hear, but most of the time it’s what you need to hear.”
“You’ve lived with him that long? I guess I didn’t realize that.”
“Actually, he delivered me. He was the first person to ever lay eyes on me, and he never hesitates to remind me of that, especially when he wants something.” Maybe a fire would be good after all. It was something to do, something to keep her busy. Grabbing a handful of tinder she kept in a basket on the opposite side of the room from the fireplace, Alek carried it over to the hearth and arranged it on the bottom of what would soon be her wood stack. Something else Dimitri had taught her. Start with the little things first then let them burn their way up to the big things. In a fire, as in life.
“So are you going to tell me?” Michael persisted. “I’ve been pretty open with you, and you haven’t told me anything more than the fact that you’re a…” He cut off his words.
“A what? A virgin? I was hoping you’d forgotten that, along with the kiss.” She hadn’t meant to say it, but she had. It didn’t matter, though, because that much was true.
“Is that why you’re so afraid of getting involved, Alek? Because you’ve never…?”
She shook her head. “Trust me, Michael. There are a lot of reasons to fear an involvement, but never having gone to bed with a man’s not one of them.”
“Then what it is, Alek? What keeps you so aloof? You act like you want to come near then when you get close you turn and skitter away like a frightened deer.”
She grabbed up a few small logs then piled them in the fireplace, rearranged the kindling and struck a match. Just as she’d expected, the sparks caught and soon the fire was sufficient to burn on its own. When she was confident it would burn well, she walked over to the thermostat, switched down the heat and finally turned back to face Michael. “My mother was a mail-order bride. Someone my father sent off for. A prostitute, actually. She wanted America, but not Alaska, so she left before I was out of diapers, then my father, who didn’t want a family—only a wife in his bed when he was home—fell off an ice cutter one night on a drunken binge and left me an orphan. Or abandoned by a mother who never came back for me, or however you want to look at it. The Romonovs took me in, but Olga wouldn’t adopt me because of my dubious heritage. She was a proper lady and my mother was the prostitute wife of a drunken sailor. So you can’t blame Olga for not wanting me.”
She paused for a moment, trying to find the next words. Then she continued, “Dimitri doesn’t know that I know about Olga, and I’d thank you not to tell him because it would break his heart.”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” he said softly.
“He’s always been so good to me, even when I pushed him away. And he never cared about my background the way Olga did. So that’s my story. Alek Sokolov comes with rejection issues, and I reject before I can be rejected. It’s not always the most pleasant way to live my life, but it works.” The words came out so stiffly they didn’t even sound like her, but once they were out she was totally drained, emotionally and physically, and all she wanted to do was go to bed, pull up the covers and wait for Michael to go away forever. Which he would now that he knew the worst of it. “Now that you know my deep, dark secrets, you can leave. Unless you still intend on going after Dimitri, in which case you can do it from somewhere other than my house.” She pointed to the door. “Either way, get out!”
It had been an hour and she still hadn’t heard him leave. Twice she’d dragged herself from bed to take a look out the window, but both times his Jeep was still there parked next to hers. What was he waiting for? For her to drop another ugly secret on him? Because there were no more. That was it. Everything she had in her little store.
Maybe she hadn’t told him in the best way. Something other than a fit of temper would have been more
proper. Have a nice civil chat over tea. And, oh, Michael, by the way, let me tell you about my parentage.
There really was no good way to put it. She’d overcome her lot in life thanks to Dimitri, but not her heritage. And she’d heard the snickers from the schoolchildren that she would turn out to be like her mother. That had been Olga’s fear, too—the thing that had stopped her from having parents again. She’d overheard the discussions so many times, when Dimitri had wanted to adopt her and Olga had refused.
But to bring Michael into it? She shouldn’t have, but for once in her life the need to be honest had far overcome the need to hide. And he deserved her honesty. Even if it didn’t make any difference, anyway.
Alek shut her eyes for the twentieth time, hoping that sleep would come, but when it didn’t she finally sat up, dropped her feet to the floor, and stood up—to pace.
“Walking in circles isn’t going to make me go away,” Michael called.
She didn’t answer.
“You can walk all night, and unless you crawl out the window, you’re going to have to come by me sometime.”
Again, she didn’t answer.
“And if you think you’re the only one with parent problems…”
Alek threw open the door to the living room and glared at him. “What I told you isn’t exactly a parent problem,” she said tersely.
“But the fact that you think your parents make you less worthy is a problem, Alek. You inherited their DNA but that doesn’t have to control your life and, if anything, the way you’ve lived your life should show you that you’re anything but less worthy. You are a strong woman, even though I’m not sure you know how much. And once you do know—know it deep down in your heart—you’ll stop pushing people away because you’re afraid you’re not worthy of their love.”
“And you’re a psychiatrist now? You’re going to put me down on the couch and analyze me? Well, you’re wasting your time, Michael. I’ve been through analysis. I know what I’m about, and I’m able to be pragmatic about it. I am what I am. So are you happy? Not only do I bring a rich history of inherited family debauchery to the table, I have a psychiatric history as well. Which makes me a jolly ball of fun, don’t you think?”
“It was Olga’s loss that she never wanted you for a daughter. And you are Dimitri’s daughter, in spite of it. So why are you so hard on yourself?” he asked. “You’re intelligent, beautiful, successful…you have a man who adores you.”
Her eyes softened. “He always has, even when I fought him. But me being here made his life hell when Olga was alive because they were always at odds because of me.”
“I wasn’t talking about Dimitri,” he said gently.
“Don’t!” she cried. “We can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Can’t anything, Michael. I mean, yes, I’m attracted to you. I might even have some feelings…”
“Might?”
“Okay, so I do have some feelings. But I don’t want an involvement. Not now. Maybe not ever. It’s too difficult.”
“That’s what you say, but I was kissed by someone who did want an involvement, Alek. I was there. Remember? Half that kiss was mine.”
“You base so much on a kiss?”
“Because that’s all I’ve had from you.”
“I’m a virgin, remember?” she snapped. “I’ve given nothing to anyone, so don’t think yourself special, because it was only a kiss.”
“Only a kiss, and the truth. Which was so much more than a kiss. You know that, don’t you, Alek? What you told me—”
“What I told you was the reason I don’t get involved.”
“That you’re not worthy of being loved? That you’re afraid no one will? It’s difficult when you won’t allow them to, Alek. You do push people away…everyone but Dimitri. You keep your distance from your patients, keep your friends at an arm’s length, like I saw you do that night in Beaver Dam, and never let anyone get too close.”
Michael finally got up and crossed the room, then pulled her into his arms. She didn’t go willingly, and she couldn’t find it in her to relax into his arms, but the illusion of what this could be about felt so good. Before she even realized what she was doing, her arms were around him and her face was pressed to his chest. “My father told me my mother didn’t want to be a mother and that’s why she went away. I ruined that marriage, which started my father drinking and got him killed, and I came close to ruining Dimitri’s marriage.”
“You were a little girl, Alek. Everybody else involved in that situation was an adult and their decisions, however flawed, had nothing to do with the little girl and everything to do with their own personal needs. It wasn’t you! It was never you!” He wrapped his arms even tighter. “You do want love, sweetheart, which is why you fight so hard against it. You want it but when it gets close you don’t think you deserve it. And it’s close, Alek. As close as you’ll let it be. One day at a time, if that’s what it takes.”
She stiffened a bit, but didn’t pull away. “I wanted to belong somewhere,” she whispered. “That’s all I ever wanted.”
“And I wanted to be a better son to my father, but I couldn’t because he sent me away from his deathbed when I was wiped out on amphetamines, and he told me not to come back until I was clean. He said that my mother deserved better than me for a son, and forbade me going near her until my filthy habit was cured.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“So was I. I made bad choices, and my father made the only choice he thought he had. Neither of us got what we wanted and that’s something that can’t be changed.”
“He died before you could make amends?”
Michael nodded. “When my mother—and my father—needed me most, I was off in drug rehab, dealing with the dependency and avoiding the issues. And I failed once, Alek. I went back to work, tried to pretend everything was normal, but then one little pill got in my way. Just for some sleep was what I told myself. But that night I couldn’t sleep because my father was telling me to stay away from my mother until my filthy habit was cured. He’d been dead for six weeks, but he was still telling me, so the next morning I went back into rehab and finally confronted the whole ugly mess. I think that was when I really knew that some things cannot be changed, that we have to go on and make the best of what we have in spite of the mistakes and choices.”
“For one pill? You went back for one pill?”
“One leads to two, and I didn’t want to get to two.”
She smiled weakly. “And now you’re hell-bent on being the dutiful son?”
He chuckled. “Even when my mother doesn’t want dutiful.”
Alek took in a deep breath, and stepped away from him. “So what about us, Michael? The secrets are out but it doesn’t really solve anything between us, does it? You have your problems and I have mine. How can all that ever be anything more than grueling for either of us?”
“Grueling? You really know how to cut to the bottom line, don’t you, Alek?” he said. “For God’s sake, I’m trying to work it out with you, and all you do is tell me why we can’t.”
Earlier, Dimitri had said that sometimes the best rewards were the hardest earned. Problem was, he wasn’t sure he was going to earn the reward no matter how hard he fought for it, because Alek had to fight for it, too. And he wasn’t sure that she would.
“So tell me why we can, Michael,” she whispered. “Tell me why, and how.”
“I love you, Alek. That’s all I can tell you. I do love you.” He waited for her response, waited to hear her say that she loved him, too, because this was also her hard-earned reward, every bit as much as it was his. But she didn’t, so he stepped away from her. “That’s all I can say.”
“And your holiday is over, isn’t it?”
Instead of waiting for an answer, Alek returned to her room, locked her door, slid to the floor and wept for the first time since the day her father had died.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WAS easier this w
ay, Michael decided. He’d drive back to Nome, catch a commuter to Anchorage and be back in Seattle by that night, if all went well. Then tomorrow morning…well, he wasn’t sure of it yet, but he’d already called his lawyer, so at least the gears were set in motion to release him from his contracts. That was the first step. The second was returning and fighting for Alek. He chuckled. Fighting Alek Sokolov to win Alek Sokolov. He was excited about that—a new life to live, new medicine to practice, and a love that would be well worth the effort. Although he wasn’t kidding himself. She was going to take effort. “One day at a time, Alek. That’s all I’m asking for. One day, with an option to negotiate the next.”
If he’d said anything to her beforehand, she would have argued, run away, fought him off, or all three. So he hadn’t. But soon he would, and he smiled, thinking over his return. Next time he came to Elkhorn he would stay, and put everything he had into the relationship—his heart, his soul, and the right amount of stubbornness—because that was what it was going to take to convince Alek that their life was meant to be together. And she did love him. He knew that, even though she was reluctant to see it or admit her own feelings. “And I’ve got all time in the world, Aleksandra Sokolov,” he said as he sped down the icy roadway. “All the time and no place to go but back to you.” And the medical practice he should have always been in. With Dimitri’s blessing, of course, fighting for Alek and becoming part of the medical team at the Romonov clinic…even if he still wasn’t clear about the situation between his mother and Dimitri. That, like his relationship with Alek, would have to be taken on faith. And today he had all the faith in the world that this new life was where he belonged, even if it was in Alaska.