From Russia With Love

by Colleen Coble

  “Where’s Irina?”

  “Napping. She should awaken at any moment.”

  She stirred the sauce so industriously, it was a wonder she hadn’t worn a hole through the bottom of the skillet. Her blond hair was twisted onto the top of her head, but fine tendrils caressed her cheeks and the back of her neck. She looked altogether lovely and competent at the same time. Gabe resisted the impulse to press his lips against the nape of her slim neck. What was happening to him? He’d never felt this way about a woman before.

  “I’m sorry you had to put up with Mike’s matchmaking.” He poured a cup of coffee from the coffee butler and took a gulp.

  Tatiana raised her eyebrows. “You would begrudge the help Mike offers to me? I must find a husband. You know this.”

  “Maybe we could get you a visa to stay.” He’d been thinking about it this week. Surely, it shouldn’t be that difficult.

  She laughed. “I have no skills that are in demand by your economy, no computer training, no professional school. In Russia I am a cook. I do not think there is a need for such as I. And even if you arranged a visa, how would we live?”

  “I could loan you the money to open a Russian café. You could serve the same kinds of things you’ve been feeding us.” He raised his voice a bit in his eagerness to convince her.

  The flush on her cheeks deepened as she stared at him. “Why would you do this? You do not wish to marry me, so why do you care what happens to us?”

  “I don’t want to see you go back to Russia. Any Christian would feel the same,” he said stiffly.

  She nodded slowly. “If you could do this, I would be grateful.”

  “You would consider staying even without a husband?” Joy bubbled up inside him. He didn’t stop to evaluate why he felt such elation.

  Tatiana shrugged. “I do not think I will be allowed, but you can try.”

  Gabe felt as if a huge stone had been rolled off his shoulders. Surely, he could arrange it. Then there would be time to win her to the Lord as well. He didn’t dare poke too closely into his reasons for his relief. “Can I wake up Irina?”

  “I think I hear her now.”

  He turned at the patter of small feet. Irina burst into the kitchen, her corkscrew curls askew and the flush of sleep still on her cheeks. She rushed to him, and he lifted her into his arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she snuggled against his chest.

  “I am hungry, Mat.” Irina rubbed her eyes.

  Gabe grinned. “Me, too.”

  “Tell Mike and Jason to wash for dinner. I will put it on the table. Your mother is in the living room.” Tatiana turned away and began to rinse the noodles in the sink.

  Jason. He still had to get rid of him. His high spirits faded. Grimly, he set Irina on the floor and went to find Jason and Mike. They were just coming down the stairs, and he stood waiting for them at the bottom.

  “Dinner’s ready.” Gabe didn’t like the self-satisfied smirk on Jason’s face. A philanderer like him didn’t deserve a woman like Tatiana.

  Mike clapped Jason on the back. “Now you get to taste some of Tatiana’s fabulous cooking.” He patted his stomach. “I’ve gained five pounds in the ten days she’s been here.”

  “Could I speak to you a moment, Mike?” Gabe asked. “In private.”

  Mike’s eyes widened, and he shrugged. “Sure.” He pointed Jason toward the dining room door. “I’ll meet you in the dining room.”

  Gabe waited until Jason left. “Have you lost your mind? That man cheated on his wife and was nearly killed for it. It was all over the papers. Is that the kind of husband you want for Tatiana? What if his crackpot wife comes after her next?”

  Mike had the grace to look shamefaced. “He was the best I’ve been able to do,” he said. “I’ve mentioned her to everyone else, and no one else wanted to meet her.”

  “No one would be better than a man like that. You have to get rid of him.”

  Mike studied him a moment. “You’re jealous,” he said incredulously. A jubilant grin stretched across his face. “I can see it all over you!” He rubbed his hands together. “There’s going to be a wedding, after all.”

  Gabe took several deep, calming breaths. Control; don’t lose control. “You know I can’t marry her,” he said. “She isn’t a Christian.”

  Mike’s grin faded. “Just because she’s not a Christian,” he said in disgust. “Give her time, and she’ll be just as much a fanatic as you. You could marry her and change her later.”

  “You know I can’t do that. The Bible says not to be unequally yoked together.”

  Mike gave a snort of disgust. “You’re not denying you’re jealous, though.”

  Gabe winced at the smugness of Mike’s tone. “Of course, I’m not jealous.” His words sounded weak, even to himself.

  “It’s just another instance of that famous self-control of yours,” Mike said. “You would never be able to admit that, just maybe, you even have feelings.”

  “And you’re still trying to pin the blame for this situation on me instead of yourself,” Gabe shot back. “You’re the one who brought her here.”

  “You’ll never let me forget that lapse of judgment, will you?” Mike stalked toward the door, then gave one last parting shot. “You might let the best thing that ever happened to you slip right through your fingers.” The pictures on the walls shook with the force of the door’s slam.

  Gabe released the breath he’d been holding. That had not gone well. Why did his life seem to be unraveling right before his eyes? He rubbed his burning eyes. The best thing to do was to get her permission to stay and then get her out of the house, out of temptation’s way. She drew him way too much.

  Tatiana was laughing at a joke Jason had just told when Gabe entered the dining room. Her laughter died when he walked in, and she put the last bowl of food on the table and slid into her seat. Gabe’s jaw tightened at the glance Jason shot him, full of insolence and challenge. Maybe opposition wasn’t the best way to get rid of him. He was obviously out to score points.

  Gabe found it difficult to keep from staring at Tatiana over dinner. She looked especially lovely in a coral sweater and black slacks. Her dark blue eyes shone at the attention Jason was giving her. It was all Gabe could do to choke down his food. Everyone else remarked about the delicious Stroganoff, but he could have been eating sand and not known the difference.

  “Mat, can I watch the Barney video?” Irina asked as Tatiana began to clear the dinner dishes away.

  “After your bath,” Tatiana said.

  “We’ll have dessert in the family room,” Grace said. “I’ll entertain the men until you join us.” Grace led Mike and Jason out the door. Jason glared back at Gabe as he lingered in the dining room.

  “It didn’t take her long to get hooked on Barney, did it?” Gabe ignored Jason’s expression and helped Tatiana carry the dishes to the kitchen.

  She smiled. “Did you watch Barney when you were a child?”

  “Nope. The Cookie Monster from Sesame Street was my favorite.” Gabe patted his stomach. “We were soul mates.”

  She laughed aloud, and the sound of her laughter warmed Gabe’s heart. He leaned against the counter and watched her load the dishwasher. “Tell me about your childhood.”

  Her shoulders tensed, and she ducked her head. “There is not much to say,” she said. “My brother Anton, he was two years older. We were very poor, and always we feared the knock on the door at night. Otets, Father, worked in a factory a few blocks from our home, and Mat, Mother, took in laundry and kept us out of trouble.”

  “Are they still alive?” His heart stirred at the sadness in her eyes.

  She shook her head. “All dead. My parents died in a riot ten years ago. Anton was killed two years ago.” Her voice trailed off, and she swallowed hard. “Anton and Sergio, my husband, were demonstrating for the right to worship as they pleased. A soldier panicked and began firing on the crowd. They were both killed.”

  Gabe winced. “That’s why yo
u’re angry at God.” She might not know it, but she still hungered to know what had driven her brother and husband to take a stand. He’d seen it in her eyes last week at church—a deep-seated wistfulness as she listened to the pastor’s preaching.

  Tatiana bit her lip. “If God exists, He is cruel. I have no wish to know such a brutal God.” She turned away, but too late to hide the shimmer of tears in her eyes. It was more proof to Gabe that she longed to be proven wrong. “What kind of God would leave my daughter without a father?”

  He silently prayed for the right words. Marshaling his thoughts, he sighed and cleared his throat. “God doesn’t look at death the way we do, Tatiana. In Psalms it says, ‘Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.’ And God didn’t promise we would never have trials or tribulation in this life. He promises we will. What kind of an adult do you think Irina would grow into if she were never allowed to experience disappointment or pain, if she were never denied anything?”

  Tatiana’s eyes widened. “Ploho. Bad. She would be self-centered and impossible to live with.”

  “Can you just consider the thought that these present trials prepare us to take our places in our eternal home? That just maybe God is helping us to grow into the kinds of people we were always meant to be. With His help, we can rise above these things that come.”

  A frown creased her brow as she thought about what he was saying. “What you say makes sense. But how could a God who loved Sergio let him die in the streets like a dog? How could a loving God leave Irina fatherless?”

  “She isn’t fatherless, and neither are you. You still have a Heavenly Father who loves you both far more than any earthly father could.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she put a hand to her mouth. “I cannot speak more of this right now.” The color drained from her cheeks. “Pazhaluysta. Please. I must check on Irina. Tell your mother I will be down shortly.” She hurried from the room.

  Gabe rubbed his tight neck. Only time would tell if his words had been dropped onto fertile soil or hard ground that needed more work. And how much of his zeal to tell her the Good News was because he cared about her soul? Or did he just want her to follow Jesus so it was safe to love her? He couldn’t answer that question.

  eight

  Tatiana pressed cold fingers against her burning cheeks. Her eyes felt gritty. Why should sentimental words about a Heavenly Father reduce her to such a state? Still, Gabe’s words had hit home. She felt so alone, so bereft of anyone who cared about her. But she’d taken care of herself and Irina this long; she could continue to do so. No invisible God was going to put food in front of them.

  Peeking in on Irina, she found her playing with a set of Playmobile firemen. She watched her daughter for a moment. The toys seemed somehow appropriate. Sometimes she felt like she was in a burning house, running toward the cool air of freedom while flames of poverty and hardship raced to consume her. She shrugged at her fanciful ideas.

  “There you are, my lamb. Are you ready to watch your Barney video?” She sat on the edge of the bed and touched Irina’s tight curls. Americans had no idea of the luxuries they enjoyed, things like well-stocked grocery stores and a selection of children’s videos that was mind-boggling. And she and Irina were actually here. The thought sent a wave of profound relief through her.

  Irina nodded, then crawled into her lap and nestled her head against her chest. She corked her thumb in her mouth, and Tatiana gently pulled it out. “You’re tired. How about a bath, and you can watch Barney in bed for a little while?”

  She bathed Irina and popped her into her footed sleeper with Pooh on the front, then carried her to bed.

  Irina rubbed her eyes. “Where is Daddy? He will read me a story.”

  “He is busy with the guest. I shall read to you.” How did she get Irina to call Gabe by his name? The longer she thought of him as Daddy, the harder it would be to make the break that had to come.

  Irina’s face wrinkled, and she began to wail. “He promised.” Tatiana tried to shush her before she disturbed anyone downstairs, but her sobs grew in intensity. A full-fledged tantrum was brewing.

  A shadow loomed at the door. “I come to read a story, and I find you wailing like a banshee. If that’s the kind of welcome I get, I’ll just go back downstairs.” Gabe stepped into the room and put his hands on his hips.

  Irina hiccuped and rubbed her wet eyes. “Mat said you were too busy to read.”

  “I’m never too busy to read to my favorite girl.” He began to rifle through the books in the bookcase beside the bed. “Which one will it be tonight?”

  Tatiana watched him pull out a copy of a story about Tigger. He was so good with Irina. Someday he would be a wonderful father. Too bad it wasn’t with Irina and more children of their own. She dropped her eyes at the sting of tears.

  Gabe tucked the covers under Irina’s chin and opened the book. His baritone voice sent shivers up Tatiana’s spine, and she had a strange sense that this scene would always stay in her memory—the March wind howling outside the window, the room dimly illuminated with the bedside lamp, and the sleepy face of her daughter as she listened to the man she had grown to love. The man who would never be her father, no matter how much she wished it. And no matter how much Tatiana wished it.

  Gabe had just gotten to the part where he was singing the Tigger song. He sang, “The most wonderful thing about Tiggers is, I’m the only one.”

  Tatiana giggled. He stopped and waggled his eyebrows at her. “You don’t like my singing?”

  She bit her lip at his woeful expression and struggled not to laugh. “Many times you have sung that song, have you not?”

  He grinned. “It’s my favorite.” He gazed down on the sleeping child. “She’s out. Hard day for her?”

  Tatiana nodded. “Your mother invited a friend to bring her granddaughter over to play. Until four they played. That hour nap she had was not enough.”

  He put the book on the nightstand. “You were supposed to go to the family room while I read to Irina. Guess I forgot to tell you.”

  “You did not tell me because you did not want me to see Jason. He seems very nice.”

  “He’s a barracuda.” Gabe frowned and took her arm, steering her toward the door.

  “A–a fish?” Maybe his eyes bulged a bit like a fish, but it seemed unkind to mention it.

  Gabe’s lips twitched. “A barracuda. As in a fish that likes to prey on smaller fish. He’s not the kind of man you should be looking for.”

  “And what kind of man should I be seeking?” She stopped in the hall and stared into his gray eyes. She knew the answer to her own question, and he stood before her.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Someone who would love Irina. Someone who would come home to you every night and not go out chasing other women.”

  “Someone like you.” She touched his chest with her fingertips. Her mouth went dry at the expression in his eyes.

  He wrapped his fingers around hers and raised her hand to his lips. “Someone better than me,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  “That would be impossible,” she said. Her voice was a mere whisper, and she curled her fingers around his.

  A muscle twitched in his neck, and he swallowed. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she knew he was going to kiss her. She felt as though she might suffocate, yet hardly dared breathe. Her lips parted in anticipation, and she tilted her chin up. Gabe ran a thumb over her chin, and she shivered at his warm touch.

  He bent his head, and his lips barely brushed hers. She felt the shock of that touch to her toes. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he gathered her close. His lips found hers again, and she sank into the kiss as into the warm waters of a tropical paradise.

  He tore his lips away and thrust her aside. “No! I can’t.”

  Tatiana staggered and touched the wall to steady herself. A numbing cold sank into her, and she shuddered. Why did he refuse to let her close? His gray eyes were
stormy, and he gritted his teeth as if he struggled for control of his emotions. She could see he wanted to take her into his arms again. She didn’t understand this struggle he waged.

  Clasping her arms around herself, she stepped further away. “I–I must go to your mother.”

  “Wait, let me explain.” He held out a hand, but she evaded it.

  The numbness was beginning to wear off, and she could feel the crushing pain approaching. Blinking back tears, she hurried down the hall. She didn’t want an explanation; her heart couldn’t take hearing the rejection in words. His actions had been blunt enough. For some reason, she wasn’t good enough for the great Gabe Salinger. Well, she was good enough for Jason. He made no secret of his attraction. And that was enough—it had to be. Tatiana wasn’t about to see her daughter hungry again.

  Pinning a smile on her face, she held her head high and walked into the family room. Jason’s face brightened at her appearance, and he stood.

  “I need to be going,” he said with an apologetic smile. “Would you walk me to the door?”

  “Of course.” She gave him her most brilliant smile. He stopped at the door, and she got his coat from the closet.

  “I had a nice time tonight,” he said. “And I’d like to get to know you better. Would you care to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  Panic rose in her throat, and she wanted to say no. The thought of being alone with him scared her for some reason. She was being silly. This was what she came here for—a husband. He was the only one interested.

  Tears burned the back of her throat, but she turned a bright smile on him. “It would have to be late. For the family I must prepare supper.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine. I work until six, anyway. Would seven be okay? We could go to Market Street Grill.”

  “Yes. I will be finished by then, and Irina will be in bed.”