The Argonaut slid along the surface, hardly bobbing at all. Abby wondered if it was the calm before the storm. In the pocket of her jeans was Alec’s latest letter, a letter that filled her with joy and sadness at the same time. He was now in Kamchatka, on the peninsula, slaving away at a desk job and acting as an assistant to an admiral of the pacific fleet.
“Eh, what about that Soviet captain? Rostov? Heard from him lately?”
“I got a letter from Alec last week just before we sailed, John. He’s okay.”
“Kinda was hopin’ for your sake that we’d meet up with the Udaloy out here somewhere.”
Abby winced inwardly, the pain in her heart always there every time she thought about Alec. “He’s been stationed in Kamchatka, John.”
“Moving up in the world, eh? Good for him.”
Wryly, she said, “I don’t know if anchoring him to land is good or not. He’s really unhappy right now.” Wasn’t she? For the past few months, Abby had hoped to see Alec by chance, somewhere out on the Bering Sea. But everything was working against them seeing each other. Everything.
Scratching his jaw, John angled a look in her direction. “You’ve changed, you know.”
“Oh?” Abby slid off the stool and stretched. She wore her jeans, a pair of sensible deck shoes and a dark green heavy sweater.
“You’ve never said as much, but I suspected you like the guy an awful lot.”
“I love him, but it doesn’t do any good, does it?”
“Not much,” John agreed in a rumbling voice. He turned the helm a bit, the Argonaut’s bow pointing in a more northeasterly direction, toward Anchorage. “Sorry that it hasn’t worked out for you two. The SOWF people are happier than hell over all that’s happened.” He grinned slightly. “I’m sure the whales are, too, but they don’t read many newspapers. They keep getting wet.”
John’s grizzled kind of humor always cheered Abby up. She stood next to him and appreciated the pale pink color reflected off the glassy sea at dusk. “If they did, I’m sure they’d come alongside the Argonaut and shake hands with us,” she said with a laugh.
Stratman nodded. “Yup, they would. Well, the ice floe is starting to muck up this part of the world and no one will be running a whaling ship around here pretty soon. What’s ahead for you?”
“I’m spending November and December in Washington, D.C. My mom will be staying with me at my apartment off and on when her work brings her to town. I’ll be helping her out quite a bit, learning the ropes of her trade a little more. I’ve got a scientific paper in progress that the university is waiting for. I’ve promised them I’d get it in before I leave for Baja in January.”
“So, I imagine your friends will be happy you’re coming home for a while.”
The gentle rocking motion of the Argonaut was always soothing to Abby. As she stood there, feet slightly apart to account for the boat’s movement, she smiled fondly. “Did I tell the latest about Susan?”
“The one who fancies that Coast Guard officer who squired you around earlier this year?”
“Same one. Susan just wrote me a letter telling me Tim proposed to her, and she accepted. They’re getting married this December, right at Christmas. Isn’t that wonderful? That’s so romantic.”
Stratman nodded. “Marriage is fine for some people, not me.”
“You’ve always been married,” Abby teased, “to this boat of yours.”
“That’s right, and she’s been a fine mistress and an uncomplainin’ wife.”
Chuckling, Abby sat on the stool. “You’re such a sexist, John Stratman.”
“And you like me despite that.”
Abby’s mouth stretched into a smile. “You’ve got finer attributes I love more. I overlook that particular flaw.”
He grinned and winked at her. “So you going home to be in Susan’s wedding?”
“Yes, I am. I’m going to be her maid of honor.”
“Well,” John chortled, “just be careful you don’t go catching the wedding bouquet when it’s thrown. You know what they say, you catch that and you’re the next to get married.”
With a shake of her head, Abby whispered, “I could catch all the wedding bouquets in the world, John, and there’s only one man I’d even consider marrying.”
“Yeah, and he might as well be in Siberia.”
“Might as well,” Abby whispered. She grew quiet. It was two months to Susan’s wedding. Two months in 1987. The year hadn’t been kind on anyone, in her estimation. Especially on October 19, the stock market’s Black Monday. Abby heard the news of the gigantic crash on the radio. When she got to Anchorage last week, she immediately called Susan to see how she was doing.
Abby smiled faintly. Although every stock-brokerage firm in the U.S. had taken a beating from the plummeting prices, Susan was in relatively good shape with her clients. Her sense not to allow her customers to invest in junk bonds had paid off. With huge amounts of stock being traded over computers at lightning speed, the market reeled from the impact. Susan had told Abby, without a doubt, that a lot of people would lose their jobs, brokerage houses would fold and new laws to control computer selling would have to be established.
Picking up her book again, Abby settled back in her seat. John was heading the Argonaut back to Anchorage now, their job in the Bering Sea done for the season. They’d saved a lot of whales this year, and it made Abby feel good, even if her heart was broken by Alec’s leaving. Susan had been right after all: some good had come out of their time together.
Chapter Twelve
“ABBY, I’LL TAKE care of all your plants for you, I promise.” Susan gave her friend a hug and then stepped back. She handed her a large bag of books.
“There’s a Time magazine in there for you to read on the flight to Baja. Guess who’s Man of the Year?”
“Who?”
“Mikhail Gorbachev. Isn’t that something?”
It was, but all Abby could think about was the other Soviet citizen she loved.
“And let’s see, what else did I put in your CARE package? Oh, yes, several good books—Indian Country by Philip Caputo, Beverly: an Autobiography by Beverly Sills, and Bernstein: a Biography by Joan Peyser. I know your love of the arts and politics, Abby. You can read these books on board the Seafarer in your spare time.”
“You’re the greatest,” Abby said, thanking her. She’d always been a voracious reader.
“Oh, and I put in a lunch, too.” Susan smiled. “Your favorite, pasta salad.”
Italian food had been the rage of the year, and Abby couldn’t have been happier about that because it was her favorite kind of food. “It will be a lot better than that yukky airline food. Thanks for saving me from indigestion.”
“You’re welcome.”
Abby smiled and picked up one of her suitcases. Tim, who was dressed in his Coast Guard uniform with his dark blue overcoat, picked up the rest of her luggage. The winter sun was shining brightly into the hallway of the apartment building, strong and welcome to Washington, D.C. Outside, a foot of snow lay on the ground, and the temperature was in the low twenties. It was January, and Abby was leaving to fly to Baja, Mexico, and begin her annual study and videotaping of the gray whales’ calving ground.
“Take the two months and enjoy yourself down there,” Susan admonished as they walked toward the exit. Courtney raced ahead and danced around Tim, who was laughing at her playful antics. In her arms was a Teddy Ruxpin doll, a stuffed bear, one of the fads of last year. It had been Abby’s gift to the little girl at Christmas—along with a plush, bright yellow Big Bird toy.
“I love going to Baja. It’s a place of joy, Susan. I cry all the time down there. To watch a mother whale give birth is only second to watching a human give birth.”
Abby thanked Tim for opening the apartment door and walked through the slush on the sidewalk to Tim and Susan’s newly purchased car, a dark blue Toyota Cressida. The sun was mildly warm, but the icy chill of winter hung in the air. The winter had been long and hars
h, one of the worst that Abby could recall. She’d used the time constructively, however, and had accomplished all the goals she’d set for herself. She climbed into the front seat and shut the door and rolled down the window.
Susan placed her hand on the window frame. “Heard anything from Alec of late?” she asked as Tim placed the luggage in the trunk.
Abby shook her head. “No.”
“I was so hoping that Alec could have attended our wedding.”
“It wasn’t for Tim’s lack of trying,” Abby said. Tim had used every tool at his disposal to obtain permission for Alec to attend their wedding. The Soviets had gracefully declined without giving any reason. Abby’s hopes of seeing Alec had been dashed—as usual.
Worriedly, Susan touched Abby’s shoulder. “I just want you to stop grieving. It’s so hard to see you alone, knowing how much you love Alec. And how much he loves you.”
“He’s never said it in his letters,” Abby reminded her softly, the pain widening in the region of her heart. “And I haven’t told him how I feel, either. I’ll get over him with time, Susan. Don’t look so worried.”
“Look at you, Abby. You’ve lost weight, you don’t laugh or smile like before. Take care of yourself, huh?” Susan placed a kiss on her cheek. “We’ll write, I promise. Get some sun down there and relax. When you come home in April, I want to see you healthy and happy. Understand?”
Abby hugged her friend, then got into the car with Tim. Maybe Susan was right, she thought. Two months at the calving grounds off Baja, the strong, warming sun and the lovely warm waters of the Pacific would be just what she needed. Taking the itinerary out of her purse, she realized that a month after she arrived, a contingent of scientists from various foreign countries, including the Soviet Union, would be coming aboard as observers of the whale-birthing activities. That gave her four weeks to be alone, to allow the whales and ocean to help her get her life back on track and in order.
*
“ABBY, THE POLARIS HAS dropped anchor nearby. Your six visitors are coming on board in about fifteen minutes,” Captain Mike Hathaway called from the bridge of the science ship Seafarer.
Dressed in a pair of short denim cutoffs and a summery pink blouse, Abby waved that she understood Hathaway’s message. She didn’t move her eyes from the video camera taping a pod of whales lolling in the distance near the shoreline. One of the mothers was about ready to give birth in the fifteen-foot deep shallows. Several other female members of the pod were gently nudging her, as if to reassure her that everything was going to turn out just fine.
The birth would be recorded with the use of telephoto camera lenses, and Abby knew she must hurry. There in the San Ignacio Lagoon, the weather was perfect, with barely a breeze to ruffle the surface of the emerald-and-turquoise water. Gulls constantly hovered overhead, hoping for handouts. Their cries serrated the blanket of silence that was always a part of the area. Occasionally whales came to the surface to blow or exhale, the sound carrying far across the lagoon and reaching Abby’s ears on board the ship.
Beneath her bare feet, she could feel the rough wood. The Seafarer, a two-hundred-foot ocean-going vessel, had been especially outfitted for such scientific expeditions. Its journeys were funded by the National Geographic Society and the World Wildlife Fund, U.S. Although the ship was made mostly of metal, the decks were fashioned from teak, but they needed another coat of varnish soon. The twenty scientists on board shared sea duties. Whether it was mopping the decks, cooking or painting, everyone pitched in and worked as a team. Abby loved it.
Lifting her chin, she saw the Polaris had dropped anchor about half a mile away, farther out in the bay, so it wouldn’t disturb the one hundred or so whales that eventually gave birth in various parts of the lagoon. Looking up at the skipper of the Seafarer, Abby called, “Mike, can you get Paul to meet those guys coming on board? I’m right in the middle of a shoot. The mother’s going to birth any minute. As soon as I’ve got it on tape, I’ll go make formal introductions.”
He smiled and waved. “You bet. I’ve got their quarters assigned. As soon as you’re done, come aft and press the flesh,” he said with a chuckle.
“No problem. Thanks!” Abby eagerly returned to the video camera set up on an aluminum tripod. The salt air was invigorating, and she inhaled it deeply. The past four weeks had begun to erase the darkness that had been with her since Alec’s leaving, and she was regaining her weight once again. Not only that, but she resembled a coffee bean, tanned golden brown by the hot Mexican sun. Her limbs were slender and strong because of all the exercise and her shared duties aboard the Seafarer. Abby actually felt as if she were thriving. The beauty of being able to watch the whales birth only increased her newfound happiness.
She heard the Zodiac bearing the foreign scientists drawing near. She frowned, hoping that the sound of the small motor wouldn’t disturb the whale mother in the distance. A huge, shining dark gray tail lifted up and out of the shallows, and Abby focused all her attention on the birth. Her fellow scientists would be taken aboard on the opposite side of the Seafarer from where she was taping, shown to their quarters and made comfortable. She’d have plenty of time to make introductions and welcome them aboard later. What was most important was recording the calving.
*
ALEC WAS FROWNING AS HE STEPPED on board the Seafarer, the last of six men to leave the Zodiac. At the top of the steel-grate ladder, he turned to a short man with a beard and thick glasses. The name tag on his shirt read, Paul Scotti, National Geographic Photographer.
“Excuse me, can you tell me where Dr. Fielding is? Wasn’t she supposed to meet us?” he asked.
“Abby will be a little late.” The man pointed across the ship. “She’s over on the port side now, in the middle of a shoot. There’s a gray whale mother calving, and Abby asked me to greet all of you. She’ll be over to welcome you on board as soon as the whale’s given birth, Captain Rostov.”
The sun was blistering hot and Alec wished for the hundredth time that he could climb out of his dress white summer uniform and take the heavy hat off his head. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and brow. His heart picked up the beat once again at Scotti’s explanation. “But she is on board?”
“Sure is. Let me show you to your cabin below deck, Captain. I’m sure Dr. Fielding will be with you, soon.”
Torn between going directly to Abby and following the friendly photographer’s advice, Alec decided upon the latter. He didn’t want to suddenly walk back into Abby’s life when she was taping an important event for the world to see. No, he’d waited this long, a few more minutes, even half an hour, wasn’t going to matter.
Just as they rounded the fantail and approached the hatch that led down to the cabins, Alec saw someone with red hair racing down the opposite side of the ship. His heart soared. Abby! She was obviously hurrying to meet the scientific group. The five men accompanying him, two Japanese, one German, one Scandinavian and one from the Soviet Union, had already gone below.
Everything slowed down to single frames for Alec as he tensely waited for Abby to round the fantail and realize that it was he standing there. She looked like a beautifully long-legged Thoroughbred in his eyes, her limbs golden from the sun, her hair drawn back in a ponytail. Alec suddenly tasted fear as never before. What if Abby didn’t love him? What if what he felt for her was only one-sided? She’d never mentioned the word. His body grew taut as she rounded the last obstacle, a huge coil of neatly stacked rope that sat in the middle of the deck.
As Abby lifted her head, Alec heard her give a little cry. She jerked to a halt, her mouth fell agape. Her eyes widened, and the flush of pink that had colored her cheeks instantly disappeared. Alec moved forward, his hand stretched out to catch her in case she fainted from the shock of seeing him.
“Alec!”
He gripped Abby’s upper arm as she swayed unsteadily. To hell with decorum. He knew in his official capacity he shouldn’t be seen embracing Abby, but he no longer cared.
“C
ome here,” he rasped, pulling her into his arms.
“Oh, my God,” she cried, her voice cracking, “You’re here! You’re really here!” She sank against him.
“It’s all right, moya edinstvenaya,” Alec whispered in a strained voice, kissing her hair, her temple, her cheek and finally, her waiting mouth. Hungrily, he molded her to him, tasting the salt of the ocean on her lips and the liquid sweetness that was only her. A little moan escaped Abby as she wildly returned his fevered kiss, her mouth wreaking havoc, spreading fire throughout his body as she claimed him with equal fervor.
Earth and sky ceased to exist for Abby. She felt the shocking strength and hardness of Alec’s body against her own, felt the way her body gave and yielded to him in so many wonderful ways. His mouth devoured hers, and she was consumed by the molten fire, the longing and lonely months without his nearness all melting away. As he framed her face with his trembling hands, she lifted her eyelashes and drowned in the sable fire in his eyes.
“My God,” she whispered brokenly, “you’re here…you’re really here. How…?”
Trying to control himself, Alec looked up. Paul Scotti had wisely left, and they were now alone on the fantail. Alec returned his attention to Abby. Gently caressing her wan cheek, he absorbed the utter happiness he saw in her blue eyes.
“Let’s go to your cabin and I’ll tell you everything,” he said. “There’s much to talk about, to share with you.”
Abby nodded jerkily. She refused to release Alec for fear she was imagining all of this. Had she been out in the sun too long? Was she suffering from the hallucinations that a sunstroke could create? Dazed, she led him below to her cabin.
Alec removed his hat upon entering, and placed it on a small bureau dresser. Abby sat on her bunk, which was attached to the bulkhead. Off came his uniform blouse and he hung it over the wooden chair at the table where her laptop computer sat. Loosening the black tie at his throat, he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and then placed the chair opposite of where Abby was sitting.
My Only One Page 17
