Page 36 of Echoes of Twilight (Dawn of Alaska #4)

36

M ikhail still couldn’t stop himself from feeling helpless. Alexei and Evelina might have visited him last night, might have told him that he was like the prophet Jeremiah, mistreated only because he tried to do what was right, but none of that took away the feelings of vulnerability and weakness that settled over him the longer he sat in the jail.

He stared down at the Bible on the bed beside him, wishing Kate were here so she could read it to him. But it was Thanksgiving, and he didn’t expect anyone from his family to leave their fancy meal and traipse up Castle Hill to the jail.

Any time he tried to pick up the Bible and read about Jeremiah for himself, the words just moved around on him, and he ended up thinking of Bryony.

Had she really snuck out of the Caldwells’ mansion and tromped all the way up Castle Hill last night—just so she could visit him?

He knew the charges against him weren’t her doing, but he hadn’t expected her to make enemies of her family over him either. That seemed wrong somehow. The Wetherbys might not treat Bryony well, but they were still the only family she had.

And yet, she’d said she didn’t want to go back there, that she’d rather stay in a boarding house than the Caldwells’ fine mansion. And she’d told him that right before she proclaimed she loved him.

Just the thought of those words coming from her mouth made him itchy. They had to be some kind of mistake. She couldn’t have truly fallen in love with him. Maybe it was just an infatuation, some kind of flirtation she imagined herself a part of while they were stuck together in the wilderness, and nothing more.

The door to the jailhouse opened with a creak, and once again he could tell who entered just by the clipped sound of Alexei’s footsteps.

Mikhail pushed himself off the thin mattress in the corner and approached the cell bars. He didn’t want to think about how he’d look to his brother. The dankness of the cellar clung to him. It didn’t help that prisoners were provided buckets to take care of their bodily needs. The buckets were emptied once a day, and the guards hadn’t been by to collect them yet today.

Alexei stopped in front of his cell, looking far too polished and fancy in a three-piece suit and shiny shoes.

“What are you doing here?” Mikhail frowned at him. “It’s Thanksgiving. I know Evelina is at home preparing a feast, and you’re not dressed to visit this place.”

“Sneaking you a bit of pie.” Alexei took his hand from beneath his coat and slid a small wooden box through the bars of his cell.

He pulled off the box top and looked down to see a small plate holding two squished pieces of pumpkin pie. His favorite.

Alexei slid him a fork next. “That sweet woman you sent home with us last night? She’s in love with you.”

And just like that, any hope of enjoying his pie drained away. “She isn’t. It’s a mistake. She might think she loves me, but I’m sure once she?—”

“There’s no thinking about it. She is fully in love with you, so don’t try telling me it’s some type of infatuation. She deserves more from you than that.”

Mikhail blew out a breath, his fork still hovering over the untouched pie. “What a mess.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, her family’s furious about her feelings for you too, so it looks like you have company. They came to the house this morning and demanded she leave with them.”

He snapped his gaze back to his brother. “Did you force her to go?”

Alexei leaned a shoulder against the bars and crossed one foot over the other, his pose just a little too relaxed. “I didn’t force her to do anything. Told the lout on my porch that women get to make their own choices in my house.”

“And then? Did she decide to go back with them anyway?” It was for the best. Sometime in the night she probably realized how big of a mistake she’d made siding with him in the situation and?—

“No. She told them the last thing she wanted was to go anywhere with them. Then she said she wanted nothing to do with how they were acting toward you, and that she wasn’t going to return to Washington, DC, but was staying in Alaska for good.”

He nearly dropped his fork onto the packed dirt of the jail floor. “She what?”

Alexei smirked. “That got your attention, I see.”

“It better not be a lie.”

“It’s all true, every last bit. Even the part about her announcing to the entire room that she plans to stay in Alaska.”

Alaska. She was planning to stay. Here. Did she expect it to be with him? “I suppose it makes sense. Her family isn’t kind. When I think about how they’ve treated her...” His throat closed, and he shoved a bite of pie into his mouth. “No one should treat their daughter or sister like that.”

“Probably not. I don’t have firsthand knowledge of everything, but it’s obvious she’s not sure what to do with us.” Something about Alexei’s stance softened. Gone was the severe thirty-two-year-old man with the stiff shoulders, and in his place was the vulnerable twenty-one-year-old who’d found himself responsible for seven younger siblings after their father’s death. “I’m not sure she’s ever been in a place surrounded by so much love—or teasing.”

Mikhail pressed his eyes shut, wishing he could be with her, sitting in the kitchen by the warm stove, watching as she took in Yuri’s antics and tried to answer a bevy of questions from Kate and Ilya.

“Do you love her back?” Alexei asked.

“I shouldn’t. I certainly never intended to fall in love with her. But...” He leaned his head against the bars of his cell door, letting the cool metal seep through his hair and into his skull. “I can’t do anything about it while I’m in here, and none of us knows how long I’ll be here for. If they can pin Richard’s death on me, it could be a decade.”

“We’ll get you out.”

“Don’t get too confident. If anyone has the power to ensure I’m locked up for half my life, it’s the Caldwells.”

“I am confident. I sat in the kitchen this morning and listened as Bryony gave Evelina a detailed account of what happened in the wilderness. Evelina will get your charges tossed out first thing on Monday morning, and we’ll use whatever gets revealed in that hearing against the Caldwells in our harassment lawsuit. Evelina is already saying she wants to subpoena Marshal Hibbs’s investigation notes and request that his bank account to be audited.”

Mikhail stilled. “She thinks the Caldwells paid Hibbs to falsify the investigation?”

“Don’t you?”

He shoved another bite of pie into his mouth, this time savoring the rich flavors of pumpkin and cream and sugar on his tongue before swallowing. “Yes, and probably not just in this instance or with our family. No one has seemed inclined to do anything about it before.”

Alexei met his gaze. “That’s changing now. The town is talking. Turns out we’re not the only ones who’ve endured some type of retribution from the Caldwells over the years. Three families have approached Evelina about filing harassment charges against the governor since she arrived in Sitka.”

“Three other families?”

“One of them is Henry Evans.”

“The town blacksmith?”

Alexei nodded. “The governor wanted to pay him a lower rate for his ironwork, since he does so much business for the RCS, but Henry decided the amount was too low and refused to do any more work. Now the governor’s office is refusing to renew his business license for next year and is replacing him with a new blacksmith from California.”

“That sounds like the Caldwells,” he muttered.

“I have a feeling more business owners and families will come forward with complaints against the Caldwells after our harassment case becomes public knowledge—especially if we end up winning it.”

Mikhail took another bite of pie, taking his time pulling the fork from his lips. “I wonder if having a Caldwell in the position of governor has tipped people over the edge. Before, everyone knew Preston was powerful and not to be crossed, but his behavior was sneaky and out of the public eye. It affected only a few people, and the rest of Sitka didn’t care enough to do anything about it. But now that Simon is governor, harassment and corruption are much more blatant. It might just be too much.”

Alexei rubbed his jaw. “I’ve had the same thoughts, and Washington, DC, can’t ignore what’s going on here forever. Perhaps the town banding together will be enough to get them to change tactics. Or—in the case of Marshal Hibbs—maybe both the governor and his brother will end up in prison for bribing an officer of the law.”

Hopefully it would be as easy as that, but the Caldwells always seemed to find a way of wriggling out of their predicaments.

“How’s the reading coming?” Alexei nodded at the Bible lying on his bed.

Mikhail scowled. “Great. Other than the fact I can’t read.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I didn’t know about your word blindness when I gave you the Bible. I can take it back.”

Mikhail glanced back at the Bible. Perhaps he was insane, but having it close by brought a sense of comfort. “No, I’d like to keep it here until I get out—however long that is.”

“Fine by me. So...” Alexei crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in a way that gave Mikhail the sudden urge to swallow.

He didn’t, though.

“What are you going to do about Bryony?”

“Not a blasted thing until I know whether I’m spending the next ten years of my life in prison.”

“I’m sure she’ll create a nice life for herself while she’s waiting for you, then.” Alexei spoke without an ounce of emotion on his face. “Here in Sitka.”

This time he found himself swallowing. “Is she that determined to stay?”

“She’s asking about rooms to rent and places she might work.”

“I hate being so helpless. I hate being stuck here, unable to do anything other than wait. Wait for court. Wait for you and Evelina to help me. If only I could just...” He gripped one of the bars with his free hand, ignoring the shaking sensation in his palm.

“What? Be invincible, like God? Be some kind of superhuman who never needs to depend on another person for anything?” Alexei tapped his fingers against his crossed arms. “Pretty sure that’s the exact opposite of how God designed marriage to work.”

Mikhail shoved himself away from the bars. “What do you know about marriage? Your fiancée ran off.”

Alexei narrowed his eyes again. “I know enough to understand you’re being a hypocrite.”

“I’m no such thing.”

“No? So tell me, did you prevent Bryony from being abducted by the Tlingit warriors who found her in the forest gathering wood?”

He stiffened. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“You love her, probably more than you love the rest of us, but this morning I heard her tell what happened on the expedition. It sounded like she needed help. A lot of help. With catching food. With getting away from the Tlingit. With getting pulled out of the Iskut River and warding off hypothermia afterward.”

Every muscle in Mikhail’s body grew inexplicably tense. “What’s your point?”

“How many times has this woman that you love deeply needed your help over the past few weeks? How many times did you give it? Does her helplessness make her any less of a person in your eyes? Does it make her any less deserving of your love?”

A lump formed in his throat.

“Or even more, does it make her less of a person in God’s eyes? Is she somehow not worthy of being one of his children because she needed extra help in the wilderness?”

His eyes felt hot and gritty, as though a fistful of sand had ended up inside them. “Of course not. That’s ridiculous.”

“Then why are you so convinced that needing help or asking for it—or depending on anyone else, even God—makes you less of a person?”

He had no words. Not a single one.

“I might not know what it is to be married, but I certainly know what it is to love a woman. And if the years since Clarise left have taught me anything, it’s this. God’s grace is sufficient for me, and my strength is made perfect in weakness. That’s from Second Corinthians twelve, verse nine, by the way. I would tell you to read it, but you can’t. And I only found that out yesterday, because you’ve been too stubborn and prideful to ask for help with reading for the past two decades.”

“That’s not true. I asked Kate to help me.”

“Really? Did you? Ask for Kate’s help, I mean? Were you humble enough to reach out to her and get help with your problem? Or did she figure out your word blindness on her own and then browbeat you into taking her help? That’s the only reason you published those articles for the newspaper two years ago, isn’t it? She probably forced you into letting her help.”

Mikhail pressed his mouth shut. There was no point in arguing. Alexei was right. About Kate. About his word blindness. About Bryony. About all of it.

“So as much as I hate that you’re stuck in this jail cell, charged with something you didn’t do, maybe this is exactly what God wants for you right now. Maybe you need to learn how to humble yourself and be weak and ask for help before you’re truly ready to love that sweet woman staying at our house the way she deserves to be loved.”

Alexei stood there for a moment, almost as though waiting for some type of response. But Mikhail had nothing other than that thick lump still lodged in the center of his throat.

His brother kept staring, though, waiting for something he had no response to.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mikhail,” Alexei finally said. Then he turned and stalked off without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

His brother would probably stop and come back—if he asked him to. Would probably stand there for hours helping to plan a detailed way to either get his case thrown out or get him acquitted and then take the plan back to Evelina.

But the words wouldn’t come. Not even as Alexei opened the door that separated the jailhouse from the guardroom, then let it slam shut behind him.