Page 35 of Echoes of Twilight (Dawn of Alaska #4)

35

Thanksgiving Day

O f all the ways she’d imagined meeting Mikhail’s family, walking into their house without him at nearly midnight to find herself instantly surrounded by six other people—all of whom had refused to go to bed until Alexei and Evelina returned—hadn’t been it.

There were so many names to remember. Three of Mikhail’s siblings were married: Sacha, Evelina, and Kate. And they all had spouses with names that needed remembering. Then there was Alexei. Tall and dark and serious, he was impossible to forget, though he didn’t make her nearly as uncomfortable as Preston Caldwell or the governor. And finally there was Yuri, the youngest of his full-blooded siblings, who, at midnight, seemed to have the energy of a seven-year-old boy rather than a twenty-two-year-old man.

He’d wrapped her in a giant hug the moment she entered, then asked what she planned to do to cheer Mikhail up, since he’d been moping about the house ever since he returned from the wilderness. They made her tea and brought out cookies and peppered her with questions about the expedition and what she did back in Washington, DC.

Finally they’d shown her to a small room with a handmade quilt and plain wooden trim around the window and door. It wasn’t nearly as fancy as anything at the Caldwell mansion, or even at her father’s house, but the Amos family home was filled with so much love and warmth, she’d rather spend a thousand nights in the small room than one night anywhere else.

But even though she lay her head down on the cool pillow and pulled the warm quilt up over her shoulders, she couldn’t sleep, not knowing that Mikhail was spending the night in a cold, hard jail cell.

Not knowing that her family was perfectly fine with putting him there.

So she tossed and turned, hovering in and out of fitful dreams until dawn painted the sky and mountains in vibrant hues of pink and purple. Then she slid out of bed, took off the nightgown that Maggie had let her borrow, slipped into her dress from the day before, and padded down the stairs.

She’d expected to find the first floor of the house empty, but when she pushed through the swinging double doors of the kitchen to make herself some tea, she found Evelina sitting at the table with papers sprawled in front of her and a kettle of hot water on the table.

The other woman looked up, a kind smile spreading across her face. “You’re up early. Was everything in the room to your liking?”

“It was perfect, thank you. Very comfortable. I had trouble sleeping, but it’s entirely my fault, I’m afraid.”

“Ah. I had trouble sleeping too. I’m tempted to blame it on the baby, but I have a feeling the same thing that kept you up kept me up as well.” Evelina jabbed a thumb at the hutch over her shoulder. “Grab yourself a cup, then sit and have some tea. I know I told you that we’d talk tomorrow, but since just the two of us are up, can I ask some of my questions now?”

“Questions about the expedition?” She moved to get one of the teacups from the hutch. It was painted a bright blue, but a white circle sat on each side with pink flowers in the center. She assumed the pattern was Russian, though she knew so very little about Russian culture. “I’m happy to tell you anything that might help Mikhail.”

Evelina sent her another one of those smiles, warm enough to melt butter on a cold winter day. “Well, then, why don’t you start at the very beginning?”

She told the woman all of it, from the first moment she met Mikhail, to when he told her she was burying her talents by giving her journals to Richard, to when Richard fell off the logs, to when Mikhail pulled her from the river. She tried not to leave out a single thing—other than their kisses, but she had a feeling Evelina knew those happened too.

Others woke and headed to the kitchen as the sun rose higher in the sky. Yuri wrinkled his nose at the tea and brewed a pot of coffee, then sat down at the table to listen to her story while Sacha and Maggie wandered in and pulled out some teacakes to serve with the coffee and tea. Then Kate and Nathan came downstairs, and finally Alexei—who looked just as tired as Bryony and Evelina.

At one point Evelina asked her if she wanted to move to Alexei’s study, where their conversation would be more private, but everyone in his family was already seated around the large scarred table, listening to everything she had to say. And all of them seemed so utterly and completely kind that she couldn’t imagine leaving them.

Somewhere near the end of the interview, Kate and Maggie rose from the table and started making breakfast—flat Russian pancakes that filled the kitchen with the scent of flour and sugar.

“Is there anything else you’d like to add?” Evelina asked, recording a few more things in her notebook.

“I think I told you everything.” Bryony sipped on her steaming tea.

“Thank you so much.” Evelina reached across the table and clasped her hand, then sent her another one of those soft smiles.

“Will anything I said be able to help Mikhail?”

“Absolutely.” Evelina squeezed her hand. “Like I said last night, I’m hoping to get this case thrown out first thing Monday, before it even has a chance to go to trial.”

Bryony blew out a breath. “I hope you’re successful.”

The kitchen door banged open, and Ilya rushed in, his black eyes shining. “Sacha said you’re making blinis.” He rushed around the table, nearly knocking over a chair, and slid to a halt beside the stove.

“We might be making blinis, but you won’t be getting any if you race around the house like that.” Kate didn’t even try to look apologetic as she threatened to withhold the wonderful smelling food. “Where are your manners?”

The kitchen door banged open again, and two children with red hair rushed inside.

“It’s Tanksgiving, Maggie!” A boy of maybe five or six raced around the table and tugged on Maggie’s skirt.

She patted him on top of the head. “It sure is, Finnan. Now head on over to the table. Breakfast is almost ready.”

The girl who’d come in with him had gone straight to the hutch and started setting the table with Inessa.

They worked together as Maggie and Kate plated the food, and a few minutes later, the entire Amos clan was crowded around a table that was far too small for them, in a room that seemed equally too small for their boisterous voices.

But Bryony could only smile. She’d take the familiar, comforting chaos of the Amos household over the cold quietness of the Caldwell mansion any day.

After Alexei prayed for their food, the family started eating. She poked her fork at the thin pancake that had been filled with jam, then rolled up and sprinkled with powdered sugar.

“Just cut into it with your fork and take a bite.” Ilya spoke around a mouthful of food. “But you better hurry, because there’s not enough for everyone to have seconds. You gotta finish first for that.” The boy went back to shoveling food into his mouth.

Evelina shook her head. “We’ve tried to teach him manners, truly we have. Everything just goes out the window when he’s hungry.”

Bryony used the edge of her fork to cut off a bite, then raised it to her lips. Rich, sweet flavors exploded the second the food touched her tongue. She didn’t have to wonder why Ilya was inhaling his food.

A knock sounded from deeper inside the house.

“I’ll see who it is.” Alexei finished chewing, then wiped his face and left the room.

Bryony took another bite of her food, stifling a little moan. “I think this is the best breakfast I’ve ever had.” It was certainly better than anything the Caldwells’ fancy French chef had served them.

Kate paused, her own bite of food only a few inches from her mouth. “It’s our mother’s recipe. We make it on special occa?—”

“I demand to see my daughter immediately!” A booming voice carried into the kitchen.

Bryony stopped chewing, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Ah, excuse me. It sounds like the knock at the door was for me.”

She started to push her chair back from the table, but Yuri stopped her with a hand to her back. “Do you want to see him, luv? You don’t have to. Alexei’s perfectly capable of handling things.”

She didn’t want to see her father, no. She had a feeling Heath was at the door too, and she didn’t want to see him either, but it wasn’t very fair of her to expect a man she’d met only twelve hours ago to handle her problems for her.

“Thank you, but I should probably go.” She pushed her chair out farther and stood, but Yuri stood with her.

“Do you care if Yuri and I come along?” Evelina set down her fork and pushed back from the table as well. “Just to make sure nothing gets out of hand?”

Her throat grew thick. How many times had Mikhail talked about his family with her? She hadn’t understood it when he mentioned them, hadn’t known how a man could have so much love for the people he was related to.

But now that she was here, standing in the Amos family kitchen and having people she barely knew offer to support her while she spoke with her father, it made sense.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“We’re happy to do it.” Evelina looped their arms together and led her through the swinging double doors.

The moment they were in the hallway, snippets of conversation became clear.

“I’ll pass on your message,” Alexei said in a calm, measured tone.

“You’ll do no such thing,” her father snapped in return. “I’m not leaving until I see my daughter.”

“We’re in the middle of a meal. It will have to?—”

“It’s all right.” Bryony dropped Evelina’s arm and came up to stand behind Alexei. “I can talk to?—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” her father shouted, his eyes narrowed into two thin slits. Heath stood on the porch beside him, his arms crossed over his chest. “You snuck out of the Caldwells’ house behind our backs and came here of all places? Didn’t Heath explain to you how delicate of a line we need to walk right now? The Caldwells will be furious when they learn of this.”

She stiffened. “I didn’t come here. I went to the jail to see Mikhail, because what you’re doing is wrong, and I wanted to tell him that and let him know I would support him.”

Her father reached out to grab her arm, but Alexei was faster, moving his entire body between them.

“You need to come home with us.” Her father peered around Alexei’s shoulder, his face red. “I demand it.”

“No,” Alexei snapped, his voice as cold as ice, though it held no anger. If anything, it carried a deadly sort of calm. “Women make their own decisions in my house. If she doesn’t want to go with you, I won’t allow you to force her.”

Her father opened his mouth to respond, but Bryony met his gaze over Alexei’s shoulder.

“You forget yourself, Father. I’m not anywhere close to home. It’s not possible to return there today or tomorrow or even the day after that. But even if we were near home, I wouldn’t want to go anywhere with you. I’m staying here in Sitka.”

She hadn’t planned to say such a thing, hadn’t put so much as two seconds’ worth of thought into the idea. But the moment the words were out of her mouth, they felt right.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her father tried to shove Alexei aside, but the businessman didn’t move so much as an inch.

“You’re the one being ridiculous, Father. I don’t care if I end up renting a one-room apartment and working for the grocer, I’m not going back to Washington, DC, with you, and I’m not going to lie for you either.”

“No one’s asking you to lie.”

“No, you just expect me to say nothing while you try to blame Mikhail for Richard’s death. Then you expect me to follow you home and marry a man who will give you endless funding for your research, regardless of whether I’ll be happy.” She took a step closer to Alexei and her father. “The happiest I’ve ever been in my life is here in Alaska. I’m not leaving, and I’m not going to sit by and do nothing while you distort what happened in the wilderness.”

Her father’s eyes flashed. “If you do this, don’t ever expect to hear from your brother or me again. I’ll forget I ever had a daughter, and you won’t get anything from me, not even in my will.”

Heat pricked the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let the burning turn into tears. She didn’t know what her future held, even if she was staying in Alaska. She couldn’t claim to understand the kind of love and support that the Amos family had for each other. And she certainly hadn’t figured out how to be the servant with ten talents from the Bible.

But she knew, without a doubt, that if she left with her father, she’d become the servant who buried his talent in the dirt.

And that was the last thing she wanted.

So she looked back into the familiar pale blue eyes she’d known for twenty-two years of her life. “I’m staying, and there’s nothing you can do to change it.”