Susan Downs - Ekaterina

“Well maybe that’s more of a …request.” He wove his hands into her hair. “Maybe I can give you a reason to stay.” He kissed her, gently, testing, and discovered that she had moved beyond the tentative stage to acceptance. Her lips were sweet and warm, and full of that unconditional love he’d always longed for. Full of Kat.

No, she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now this is Moscow at night.” Vadeem tucked Kat under his arm. As they walked down the cobblestones of Red Square, he felt mesmerized as much by the wonder of her nestled close as by the star-strewn sky. It glittered like diamond-studded velvet against a jeweled crescent moon. In the lunar light, the church of St. Basil the Blessed glimmered, red and blue, green, and gold—the colors of the crest that had been safely delivered back to the Russian Church.

The glory of it seemed as surreal as the fact that he’d been nominated as ‘Hero of the Motherland.’ A medal of merit pended approval by the duma during the legislative body’s next session.

Except, the hero status Vadeem truly longed for was in Kat’s eyes. Vadeem led them onto the bridge that spanned the Volga River. Kat hummed contentedly, stirring within him a well of emotions still unfamiliar to his thawing heart. Each time, it brought a fresh wave of amazement, and often a wash of betraying tears. He managed a shaky breath and blinked them away.

“Thank you for bringing me to the ballet,” Kat murmured. “The Bolshoi Theater is more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

“You’re welcome.” Vadeem stopped and watched the river as it flowed, its ripples peaked silver as the moon kissed them. He leaned against the rail, pulling Kat close, and played with her hair as the wind teased it. He loved its silky feel through his fingers. He could stay here forever, drowning in her enchanting aroma, surrendering to the magic in her amber eyes. He touched the key, now hanging by a gold chain around her neck, amazed at all it had unlocked for him. For her. “I’m glad you’re here to share it with me.”

Emotion clogged his throat as he drew his arms around her, pulling her close. Her fingers ran through the hair at the nape of his neck, and sent a warm shiver down his spine. Oh yes, he could stay here forever, and longer. He smiled, his gaze going to the heavens in silent gratitude.

If Kat had taught him one thing over the past four weeks—the first week spent trying to keep her alive, the next three enjoying the fact that he did—it was that his darkest moments could be survived if he kept his eyes on God, on the light. Vadeem did that now, smiling at the stars above and the moon in its mysterious, eternal radiance. Like the moon, always there, never absent—even when he couldn’t spot it with the naked eye, God would never leave him. As if to add an exclamation point to that truth, God had given him Kat, his precious Katoosha , an explosion of light in Vadeem’s life. A delightful, invigorating, sometimes exasperating, reminder of God’s love.

Now, if he could just pass muster tomorrow. “What time is your grandfather arriving?”

Kat threaded her fingers through his. “Two o’clock.” She drew back from him, leaving her fragrance in her wake, then she smiled and wiggled her brows. “Nervous?”

Nervous? He was about to meet the illustrious Grandfather Neumann, the equivalent, or perhaps worse, of Kat’s father. Nervous didn’t even begin to describe the way his stomach turned inside-out or the general kasha quality of his knees. “A little,” he said.

“Don’t worry. He’ll love you.” She pressed her forehead to his, her gaze in his, close and hypnotic. “Just like I do.”

He couldn’t help but kiss her. She was so full of life, of hope, and when he pulled away, he felt it all on his tingling lips and the explosion of joy in his heart. He swallowed, still trying to get used to tugging vulnerable words from his chest. “I love you too.”

He kept that moment in the forefront of his mind the next day at Moscow’s Sheremetova 2 airport as he stood, shifting weight from one leg to the next. “Which one is he?”

Kat jumped up and down like a preschooler. “Tall, white hair, lanky.”

Oh, the one holding a brief case, walking like an athlete? The one with piercing dark eyes who looks like he could eat me alive? Vadeem’s courage careened to his toes and he grimaced. Kat didn’t notice, but flung herself into her grandfather’s arms. The old man braced himself well, obviously used to her exuberance. Vadeem waited until Kat had hugged him enough to make up for her adventure, and the next few Christmases, then extended a hand.

“Vadeem Spasonov, Mr. Neumann. Welcome to Russia.”

The man’s grip clenched his own, and his eyes warmed, despite his curt nod. “So, I guess you’re the one who kept my granddaughter alive, huh?”

Vadeem opened his mouth and wished for words.

Then the old man winked.

Perhaps her grandfather wasn’t so different Kat as Vadeem thought.

Vadeem flagged down a cab, then rode with them to the Hilton, Kat’s hotel of choice, listening to the two catch up, and Kat spin tales of bravery that Vadeem viewed in a completely different light. He’d have to get the grandfather alone and set the record straight. Still, he liked the way esteem seemed to be building in the man’s eyes. Perhaps he’d let things lie.

“Okay, Grandfather, I know you’ve had a long trip, but I have lots of questions, and I want answers.” That was what Kat had planned to say to him. Had planned it for a week, since she discovered he wanted to fly over on the pretense of bringing a suitcase of her personal effects to help her get settled as she searched for the Klassen family relatives. The KGB did have files—and Vadeem had promised to help her dust them off and trace them forward. Hope tinged their every conversation. The fact that Grandfather had decided to join the search felt somehow… healing. And she wouldn’t have to dig far under his offer to help discover ulterior motives, namely curiosity. Grandfather wanted to run Vadeem through the ringer.

She didn’t care. Not only could Vadeem stand up under the old man’s scrutiny, Grandfather came armed with answers, and if the book in her possession didn’t trigger him to spill them, well, she planned to turn demanding. To ask the Lord for some of that grit she’d unleashed on a smuggler with murderous intent.

Instead, what came out when Grandfather closed the hotel room door behind them was, in a horribly squeaky tone, “Can I… did you… um… I still have some questions.”

Grandfather Neumann turned those gentle, sometimes stern eyes on her. “In due time, Kat. Right now, I need to rest my weary bones. I am nearly eighty years old, you know.”

Kat nodded, disappointment rising up in the form of tears. “Can I just ask you one question?”

Grandfather sighed, but he nodded, his strong hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

“You said you came back to Russia once. Why?”

He pursed his lips, and stared at her a long time. Sorrow rose in his eyes, alive and flickering, as if he were reliving fresh grief. “I suppose I was on the same quest you are.”

Kat opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Grandfather had come looking for Magda’s ancestors? Questions knotted her brain and she frowned at him, furious, suddenly that he’d kept so much of her past locked away. Thirty years seemed an eternity to wait for answers. She stepped away from him. “I found her father’s journal, but I never found anything about her , Grandfather. I hope you can help me.”

Grandfather Neumann nodded and pulled her to his chest. “In time, Kat. In time.” She hung on tight, eyes closed, feeling suddenly like the eight-year-old who had see a broken stranger in a hospital bed, and wondered who he was beneath the bandaged exterior.