Dangerously Fierce

by Deborah Blake

  Finally she made herself walk from the kitchen through the shabby but neat living room and down the hallway to her father’s bedroom, one door past the bedroom she’d moved back into six months before, thinking it would be for a month or maybe two at the most. Now it was beginning to feel as though she’d be there forever. Ironic, considering that she’d spent most of her teens counting the days until she could get away. Sometimes the universe was a bitch.

  She braced herself, then put her head up high before walking into the room. It didn’t do to show weakness around Calum McKenna; he’d jump on it like a lion on the weakest member of the pride.

  “Hi Dad,” she said in as cheerful a tone as she could manage. “I hear you had a rough day.” Her heart sank as she took in the mess still clinging to the wall near the doorway; the remains of the stew she has so painstakingly prepared that morning now looking like a piece of demented modern art in 3D meat and carrots. “You know, if you don’t like the dinner, you can always just say ‘no thank you’ like a normal human being. And why are you still awake? It’s almost two in the morning.”

  Calum glowered at her from his bed, his craggy face sullen in the dim light on the bedside table. “I know what time it is, lass. Dinnae treat me like my brain is broken just because my back is. I’m not a child to be told when to go to sleep.”

  Bethany slanted her eyes pointedly at the wall. “Well, if you don’t want to be treated like a child, perhaps it would be best if you didn’t act like one.” She went into his adjoining bathroom and got a wet cloth, kneeling down to start cleaning up the disgusting mass. “And by the way, Rosa just quit. I suppose you’re pleased with yourself.”

  There was silence from the bed for a minute. Her father wasn’t stupid, just bad-tempered and frustrated. Finally he said, “I never liked that woman anyway. She was too bossy. You’ll just have to get someone else.”

  “We’re running out of ‘someone else’s’ Dad,” Bethany said softly. “Home health aides don’t exactly grow on trees. And if you want me to keep the bar going, that means someone has to be here to take care of you while I’m gone. You won’t let me get someone to live in, which means an aide on the nights I work late at the Hook and Anchor. You can’t have it both ways. If you’re determined to have me run the bar, you’re going to have to be nicer to the people who come in to take care of you.”

  “I don’t want to be taken care of,” Calum shouted. “I don’t like having strangers in my house! And I don’t like being told what to do by a snip of a girl who thinks she’s too good to be running an honest business.”

  Bethany had heard this litany more times than she could count, and she was too tired to argue. “Well, Dad, there’s a lot I don’t like about this situation either. And as neither of us is likely to get what we want tonight, I’m going to go to bed.” She stood up slowly, one hand wrapped around the soiled towel, and the other pressed against the small of her back. “I’ll see you in the morning. Try and get some rest.”

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” her father muttered, turning off the light and easing himself back down on his pillows with a grunt of pain. “And if we’re both lucky, that will be soon.”

  In the hallway, Bethany leaned against the wall and closed her eyes for a minute. She was never quite sure if her father really meant what he said about wanting to die or not. She wasn’t sure he knew either. But if he didn’t start eating, sleeping, and doing his exercises, she was afraid they were going to find out. And as difficult as the old man was, she really wasn’t ready for that.

  Chapter 3

  Alexei woke to the faint glimmer of sunshine coming through flowered curtains and the warm weight of a body next to his. For a moment, he was caught between the strangely erotic dreams he’d been having about a woman with flame-colored hair and the reality of a new day. Then he realized that the female sharing his unaccustomed bed had four legs, a bulging belly, and doggy breath, and the pieces fell back into place.

  “Idiot beast,” he muttered, trying to move her out of the way without falling off a bed that was already too small for a man his size. “I thought you were supposed to sleep on the couch.”

  Lulu lifted her head and licked his neck, then made her ungainly way down to the floor, looking pitifully at the doorway. “Out,” she whined. “Now.”

  “Da, da, I’m coming,” Alexei said. He was never a morning person at the best of times, as his brothers had so often teasingly noted. Now he was hearing a dog talk. He needed coffee.

  He tied his bedroll together and dropped it and his saddlebags next to the front door; he hadn’t bothered with the sheets his hostess had so kindly pointed out to him - way too much trouble for one night, and he wasn’t planning on staying any longer than that. Then he made his way to the back door and let the dog outside to do her business before scooping a generous helping of food into her bowl on the floor.

  Unfortunately, a quick exploration of the kitchen didn’t turn up anything that resembled people food, and he wasn’t going to be fit to ride until he had at least one cup of coffee. Preferably a whole pot. Lulu had resumed her position on the couch, apparently worn out by the strenuous work of peeing and eating, so he left her lying there and walked up the narrow path to the main house. Hopefully Bethany was up and around, and he could beg a mug full of coffee before hitting the road.

  The path led to a kitchen, empty at the moment, but the lights were on and the door was unlocked, and no one answered when he knocked, so he let himself in. He opened his mouth to call out when he heard the sound of a voice coming from the next room. It didn’t sound happy, so he halted in the doorway.

  Bethany stood with her back toward him, already dressed for the day in jeans and a flannel shirt whose green and orange checks clashed endearingly with her hair. One hand held a phone up to her ear, the other was clenched into a fist down at her side.

  “Are you sure?” she was saying to the person on the other end. “I realize he’s - ” The fist clenched tighter, the knuckles turning white. “Yes, I know you only have limited staff, but I can’t - ” A sigh. “Okay. I understand. Well, do the best you can. I appreciate it.” She tossed the phone down on the sofa and let loose with an impressive stream of rude words before turning around and realizing that Alexei was standing there.

  “Crap,” she said. “Sorry.”

  Alexei shrugged. “I came into your home uninvited. You owe me no apologies. Besides, I am not exactly a sensitive flower.”

  Bethany snorted. “There’s an understatement. Did you need something? Is Lulu okay?”

  “Lulu is fine. She hogged the bed all night, and has already gone outside and had breakfast,” Alexei did his best to look pitiful. “I was hoping I would be rewarded for my services with a cup of coffee.”

  “Sure,” she said. “It’s on the counter in the kitchen. There are mugs right there. Help yourself.”

  Alexei began to go back into the other room, then hesitated. “There is a problem?” Not that it was any of his business, but her obvious distress was hard to ignore.

  “Multiple,” Bethany said with a grimace. “But at the moment, the crucial one is that my father chased off another home health aide last night, and the head of the agency just told me that the soonest he could get me more help is next week. And he’s not making any promises for then.”

  “Your father is difficult to work with?”

  “My father is a pain in the ass,” she said flatly. “But he also can’t be left alone all day. I get him up and dressed and fed in the mornings, and I have someone who opens the bar for me so I don’t have to go in until about two in the afternoon, but I can’t afford to pay anyone to run the place full time, whereas the aides are covered by insurance. So my father needs someone here until I get back, in theory to help him with his physical therapy exercises, although he won’t do them, and to give him his dinner, which he won’t eat. Plus, of course, there are fun things like getting him into the bathroom.”

  As if on cue, a voice bellowed from down
the hallway, “Dammit, girl, I need to take a piss! Where the hell are you?”

  “I see where you got your accent from,” Alexei said, hearing a much stronger version of Bethany’s light Scottish burr. “Not to mention some of your vocabulary.”

  Bethany rolled her eyes and pointed him toward the kitchen, then hurried in the direction of the bellow. Not quite sure why he did it, Alexei ignored the caffeine he so desperately needed and followed her.

  The man sitting up in the bed glowering at the doorway didn’t look much like Bethany, other than his fading red hair and the cleft in his squared-off jaw. Bushy eyebrows shadowed bloodshot hazel eyes, and his pajama top strained over a barrel chest and once-muscular arms. Bethany had moved a wheelchair next to the bed and was working to shift her father’s legs, with him cursing at her to go faster.

  Alexei shook his head. “Let me,” he said, pushing Bethany out of the way with a nearly gentle nudge. He scooped the older man up in his arms and carried him effortlessly into the bathroom, then waited until he was done and carried him back to prop him on the edge of the bed. Bethany was strong enough, but what was an effort for her was nothing to him. “Clothes,” he said, holding out one hand. Bethany raised one eyebrow, but wordlessly handed him a pair of gray sweats, a blue tee shirt, and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt.

  “Who the hell is this?” Calum asked, as he let himself be helped into the pants. The rest he managed on his own well enough. The change from pajamas to shirt revealed a thatch of gray hair on his chest and a colorful tattoo on each arm. “The agency is hiring giants now?”

  Bethany sighed. “Alexei isn’t from the agency, Dad. They won’t be able to send us anyone new for at least a few days. I met him at the bar yesterday and he didn’t have a place to stay, so he slept in the guesthouse last night.”

  Calum snorted. “Oh great, another stray. As if that huge dog wasn’t bad enough. I hope you’re not expecting me to feed this one too.”

  Alexei ignored the man’s rudeness, which didn’t faze him in the least. He once taken care of a Baba Yaga in the last stages of her life, and she’d been even grumpier than Bethany’s father, not to mention being able to turn him into a toad if she was having a really bad day.

  Most Baba Yagas chose to live out the end of their long lives in the comfort of the Otherworld, where they would have servants and luxury provided by a grateful queen if they so desired, but old Berta hadn’t wanted to leave the deep woods of Russia where she’d spent her entire existence, and Alexei had quietly started spending more and more time with her, until in the last year he was there all the time except when he needed to be off helping her replacement. Taking care of a crippled old Human was no big deal, comparatively speaking.

  “Breakfast,” he said cheerfully. “Good idea. I believe somebody promised me a cup of coffee.” He placed Calum into his chair and wheeled him in the direction of the kitchen with Bethany trailed behind looking somewhat bemused.

  Once in the kitchen, however, she put mugs down in front of both men and started filling the kitchen with the welcome aroma of frying bacon and eggs. Alexei poured a generous dollop of cream into his coffee, then dug into the huge heap of food Bethany set down in front of him. In contrast, Calum’s single egg on a piece of toast seemed like meager fare. The older man pushed the plate away with a grimace.

  “Not going to eat that?” Alexei asked. “Shame. Your daughter is a good cook.” He grinned up at Bethany as she put another pile of buttered toast near his elbow.

  “Not hungry,” Calum grunted.

  Alexei lifted an eyebrow. “Huh. I thought Bethany said you were Scottish.”

  “Of course I’m Scottish, ye big oaf. Do ye not hear the way I speak?”

  “Well, sure,” Alexei said. “But I’d always heard that the Scots are hearty eaters. Almost as much as Russians, who can eat more than three people from any other country. But here you sit, not even able to nibble on a piece of egg. Seems like I’ve heard it wrong.” He folded two pieces of bacon in half and stuffed them in his mouth, as if to emphasize his statement.

  “Any Scotsman worth his salt could eat a Russian out of house and home,” Calum muttered, picking up his fork. “Put some of that cream in my coffee, will you? I’m sick of drinking it black.” He scowled up at Bethany. “Are you saving all that bacon for this stranger you dragged home, or is there a piece left for your poor father?”

  Bethany walked over and put some on his plate, mouthing the words “thank you” at Alexei as she went back to the stove to get her own food. He winked at her when Calum wasn’t looking, and enjoyed the slight blush that colored her cheeks pink in response. He’d had worse mornings, and worse sights to look at over the breakfast table, that much was sure.

  * * *

  After breakfast, Bethany loaded the dishwasher while Alexei wheeled her father back into the living room. She couldn’t believe the man had actually gotten Calum to eat a real meal. Without a five-round knock-down drag-out fight, either, which was the only way she ever got him to do it.

  When she was done, she paused in the doorway to listen to the conversation, eavesdropping shamelessly once she realized what she was hearing.

  “Now then,” Alexei was saying, “what’s this I heard about these exercises you’re supposed to be doing?”

  “I’m stuck in this damned chair,” Calum said with a growl. “It’s not as though I’m ever going to be hauling in another load of fish or carrying a keg of ale. Those exercises are a stupid waste of time and I don’t see the point.”

  “Well, maybe the point is to get yourself strong enough to be able to get in and out of bed and onto the toilet without the help of that pint-sized daughter of yours,” Alexei said in a mild tone. “Nothing wrong with your arms and shoulders is there?”

  “What the hell business is it of yours, anyway?”

  “Oh, none at all, none at all,” Alexei said. “I couldn’t care less. It’s just, well, that Scotsman thing again. I’d always heard about how tough your people are supposed to be, and I’m kind of disappointed to find out it isn’t true.”

  “The hell it isn’t,” Calum roared. “A Scot is more man than some damned Russian any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.”

  “Is that so?”

  In the kitchen doorway, Bethany had to put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

  “That it is.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Alexei said thoughtfully, “Care to have a wager on it? I’ll bet you can’t finish your exercises before I can do three hundred pushups.”

  “Away and boil your head,” Calum said, his thick accent making it sound like “Awa’ an bile yer heid.” “You can never do three hundred pushups. Yer just having me on.”

  “I’ve got twenty dollars that says I can,” Alexei said. “Unless you think you can’t lift that little weight a few times.”

  Bethany risked a small peek into the room and saw her father struggling to lift the small dumbbells through the various motions he’d been given. On the floor nearby, Alexei had stripped off his shirt and was doing pushups, seemingly without effort, the muscles in his arms and back rippling in a way that did disturbing things to her insides. A dragon tattoo in black and red looked as though it was going to slither down his shoulder. She ducked back inside the kitchen before either of them could see her, a crazy idea beginning to form.

  * * *

  After he’d worn the old man out and left him sitting in front of the television, Alexei went into the kitchen to get one more cup of coffee before he hit the road. The three hundred pushups hadn’t even left him out of breath, but he had to admit it had almost been fun to get Calum to do what he was supposed to. No matter what people thought, there was more to Alexei Knight than just brawn. Maybe his brothers’ brains and charm had finally worn off on him a bit. Or maybe not.

  Bethany was waiting for him, sitting at the kitchen table with two mugs and a determined expression. Alexei had only known her for a day, but he already knew that face meant trouble
. Maybe he didn’t need the coffee after all. He’d just won twenty bucks off her father - he’d get some at a diner somewhere. He started edging toward the door.

  “Sit,” Bethany said firmly, reminding him for a moment of Barbara in one of her moods. He sat, looking at her warily.

  “If this is about the money,” he started to say.

  She shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would have paid that much just to see you con him into eating.” She raised an eyebrow. “Not to mention the floor show.”

  Alexei pulled the larger mug toward him, secretly tickled by the idea that she’d been watching him. “What then?”

  “I have a proposition for you,” Bethany said, chin lifting as if to ward off an argument she was sure was coming.

  It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Fabulous. I haven’t had one of those in weeks.”

  “Not that kind of proposition, you oaf.” But she said it with a smile. “This is business. You said you hadn’t made up your mind where you were going next. I’d like you to consider staying here and taking care of my father for the next week, until I can get another aide.”

  She went on, talking fast as though afraid to let him get the word “no” out before she had finished. “I can’t afford to pay you much, but you could sleep in the guest house for free, and I’d feed you three meals a day. And I have a neighbor who is willing to come over for a few hours in the evenings to sit with Dad until I get home, so you could still get your drinking in, seeing as how that’s so important to you. What do you say? It would only be for a week, probably.”

  Alexei gazed at her across the table. It wasn’t as though taking care of one crippled old man - and a talkative pregnant dog - would be that tough. Or that he had anyplace else to be. Spending another few days with Bethany wouldn’t be any hardship either, although he wasn’t about to tell her that. She amused him, and not much had done that in quite a while.