Ekaterina (32 page)

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Vadeem heard Kat’s scream just as Grazovich pulled out Ryslan’s pistol from some well inside his coat. He shoved it in Vadeem’s face and Vadeem backpedaled, fast. Grazovich, ghost white and bleeding from the mouth and nose, struggled to his feet. A smile creased his face. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

Vadeem heaved in hot breaths, wondering how fast it would take to dig up the pistol Grazovich had dumped in the tall grass.

The moonlight waxed Grazovich’s twisted face a bone-chilling yellow. The thug smiled and leveled his gun. “With you out of the way, just think how much fun your girlfriend and I will have.”

Rage poured into Vadeem’s muscles as he hurtled himself toward the Abkhazian terrorist.

Shock washed Grazovich’s face. He pulled the trigger.

The shot sent Vadeem wheeling back as the bullet grazed across his arm, burning like a branding iron. He landed in a splash of pain, braced himself for the fatal follow-through shot.

In a blur of motion, Grazovich slammed into the dirt. He swore loudly, dazed and knocked silly by the bear of a man straddling him.

Vadeem blinked, his heart in his mouth.

“Sorry I’m late,” Pyotr said, as he drove his knee into Grazovich’s spine. He easily jerked the weapon from his hand. “I had a hard time finding the place.”

Vadeem gulped back relief. He had never been so happy to see a pastor in his entire life. “No problem. You’re timing is perfect.”

Grazovich suddenly roared in fury. Pyotr shoved his face into the dirt. Vadeem quickly snapped a set of cuffs on the man, ignoring a barrage of Abkhazian curses.

“You okay?” Pyotr asked as he hauled Grazovich to his feet.

Vadeem clutched his arm, exploring the shredded leather where the bullet had grazed him. His hand came back sticky with blood. “Good thing his aim was off. He almost got me in the chest.”

Pyotr grinned even as he wrestled Grazovich into a submissive position. “I don’t know, Pal. I’d say you got a direct hit right in the heart. ” The pastor looked past him, grinning.

Vadeem followed his gaze, and saw Kat, face white, her hair a tousled nest, her amber eyes wide and glistening, holding her breath in with a cupped hand over her mouth.

“Direct hit,” he echoed. He didn’t even have the chance to climb to his feet before she barreled into his arms, burying her face in his neck, sobbing.

He soothed her, crushing her to his chest. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head in the well of his neck. He felt his relief build in his eyes, turning them moist. “Sorry I scared you.”

She sat back and fury filled her expression. “Next time you decide to send me packing, I’d sure appreciate it if you’d do the honors yourself.”

Vadeem’s lips parted in shock.

A smile tugged at her lips. “I missed you.” Her voice broke, and he read everything he’d hoped to see in her wounded eyes. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

He traced her face lightly with his finger. “You just had to have a little faith, Kat. That’s all you needed.”

Her face twitched. “I thought you said faith destroys.”

He leaned close, his forehead to hers. “Oh, no, Kat, faith leads us to the treasure we’ve always longed for. Salvation. Forgiveness.” He cupped her cheek with his hand. “Hope.”

She leaned into his touch as the wind tangled her hair and swept her fragrance to him, embracing him with the joyous gift that was Kat. God’s gift. Vadeem nearly cried at the magnitude of it.

“I’m in love with you, you know.” He whispered the words, forced as they were from the darkest corner of his heart.

She smiled at him, a full, encompassing grin that was so sweet it made him ache with happiness. “So, you’re not sending me home on the next plane?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Moore, but you’re not going anywhere.”

She raised her chin. “You know, I hate it when you tell me what to do.” Tease glimmered in her eyes.

“Well maybe that’s more of a . . .request.” He wove his hands into her hair. “Maybe I can give you a reason to stay.” He kissed her, gently, testing, and discovered that she had moved beyond the tentative stage to acceptance. Her lips were sweet and warm, and full of that unconditional love he’d always longed for. Full of Kat.

No, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Epilogue

“Now
this
is Moscow at night.” Vadeem tucked Kat under his arm. As they walked down the cobblestones of Red Square, he felt mesmerized as much by the wonder of her nestled close as by the star-strewn sky. It glittered like diamond-studded velvet against a jeweled crescent moon. In the lunar light, the church of St. Basil the Blessed glimmered, red and blue, green, and gold—the colors of the crest that had been safely delivered back to the Russian Church.

The glory of it seemed as surreal as the fact that he’d been nominated as ‘Hero of the Motherland.’ A medal of merit pended approval by the
duma
during the legislative body’s next session.

Except, the hero status Vadeem truly longed for was in Kat’s eyes. Vadeem led them onto the bridge that spanned the Volga River. Kat hummed contentedly, stirring within him a well of emotions still unfamiliar to his thawing heart. Each time, it brought a fresh wave of amazement, and often a wash of betraying tears. He managed a shaky breath and blinked them away.

“Thank you for bringing me to the ballet,” Kat murmured. “The Bolshoi Theater is more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

“You’re welcome.” Vadeem stopped and watched the river as it flowed, its ripples peaked silver as the moon kissed them. He leaned against the rail, pulling Kat close, and played with her hair as the wind teased it. He loved its silky feel through his fingers. He could stay here forever, drowning in her enchanting aroma, surrendering to the magic in her amber eyes. He touched the key, now hanging by a gold chain around her neck, amazed at all it had unlocked for him. For her. “I’m glad you’re here to share it with me.”

Emotion clogged his throat as he drew his arms around her, pulling her close. Her fingers ran through the hair at the nape of his neck, and sent a warm shiver down his spine. Oh yes, he could stay here forever, and longer. He smiled, his gaze going to the heavens in silent gratitude.

If Kat had taught him one thing over the past four weeks—the first week spent trying to keep her alive, the next three enjoying the fact that he did—it was that his darkest moments could be survived if he kept his eyes on God, on the light. Vadeem did that now, smiling at the stars above and the moon in its mysterious, eternal radiance. Like the moon, always there, never absent—even when he couldn’t spot it with the naked eye, God would never leave him. As if to add an exclamation point to that truth, God had given him Kat, his precious
Katoosha
, an explosion of light in Vadeem’s life. A delightful, invigorating, sometimes exasperating, reminder of God’s love.

Now, if he could just pass muster tomorrow. “What time is your grandfather arriving?”

Kat threaded her fingers through his. “Two o’clock.” She drew back from him, leaving her fragrance in her wake, then she smiled and wiggled her brows. “Nervous?”

Nervous? He was about to meet the illustrious Grandfather Neumann, the equivalent, or perhaps worse, of Kat’s father. Nervous didn’t even begin to describe the way his stomach turned inside-out or the general kasha quality of his knees. “A little,” he said.

“Don’t worry. He’ll love you.” She pressed her forehead to his, her gaze in his, close and hypnotic. “Just like I do.”

He couldn’t help but kiss her. She was so full of life, of hope, and when he pulled away, he felt it all on his tingling lips and the explosion of joy in his heart. He swallowed, still trying to get used to tugging vulnerable words from his chest. “I love you too.”

He kept that moment in the forefront of his mind the next day at Moscow’s Sheremetova 2 airport as he stood, shifting weight from one leg to the next. “Which one is he?”

Kat jumped up and down like a preschooler. “Tall, white hair, lanky.”

Oh, the one holding a brief case, walking like an athlete? The one with piercing dark eyes who looks like he could eat me alive?
Vadeem’s courage careened to his toes and he grimaced. Kat didn’t notice, but flung herself into her grandfather’s arms. The old man braced himself well, obviously used to her exuberance. Vadeem waited until Kat had hugged him enough to make up for her adventure, and the next few Christmases, then extended a hand.

“Vadeem Spasonov, Mr. Neumann. Welcome to Russia.”

The man’s grip clenched his own, and his eyes warmed, despite his curt nod. “So, I guess you’re the one who kept my granddaughter alive, huh?”

Vadeem opened his mouth and wished for words.

Then the old man winked.

Perhaps her grandfather wasn’t so different Kat as Vadeem thought.

Vadeem flagged down a cab, then rode with them to the Hilton, Kat’s hotel of choice, listening to the two catch up, and Kat spin tales of bravery that Vadeem viewed in a completely different light. He’d have to get the grandfather alone and set the record straight. Still, he liked the way esteem seemed to be building in the man’s eyes. Perhaps he’d let things lie.

-

“Okay, Grandfather, I know you’ve had a long trip, but I have lots of questions, and I want answers.” That was what Kat had planned to say to him. Had planned it for a week, since she discovered he wanted to fly over on the pretense of bringing a suitcase of her personal effects to help her get settled as she searched for the Klassen family relatives. The KGB
did
have files—and Vadeem had promised to help her dust them off and trace them forward. Hope tinged their every conversation. The fact that Grandfather had decided to join the search felt somehow. . .healing. And she wouldn’t have to dig far under his offer to help discover ulterior motives, namely curiosity. Grandfather wanted to run Vadeem through the ringer.

She didn’t care. Not only could Vadeem stand up under the old man’s scrutiny, Grandfather came armed with answers, and if the book in her possession didn’t trigger him to spill them, well, she planned to turn demanding. To ask the Lord for some of that grit she’d unleashed on a smuggler with murderous intent.

Instead, what came out when Grandfather closed the hotel room door behind them was, in a horribly squeaky tone, “Can I. . .did you. . .um. . .I still have some questions.”

Grandfather Neumann turned those gentle, sometimes stern eyes on her. “In due time, Kat. Right now, I need to rest my weary bones. I am nearly eighty years old, you know.”

Kat nodded, disappointment rising up in the form of tears. “Can I just ask you one question?”

Grandfather sighed, but he nodded, his strong hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

“You said you came back to Russia once. Why?”

He pursed his lips, and stared at her a long time. Sorrow rose in his eyes, alive and flickering, as if he were reliving fresh grief. “I suppose I was on the same quest you are.”

Kat opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Grandfather had come looking for Magda’s ancestors? Questions knotted her brain and she frowned at him, furious, suddenly that he’d kept so much of her past locked away. Thirty years seemed an eternity to wait for answers. She stepped away from him. “I found her father’s journal, but I never found anything about
her
, Grandfather. I hope you can help me.”

Grandfather Neumann nodded and pulled her to his chest. “In time, Kat. In time.” She hung on tight, eyes closed, feeling suddenly like the eight-year-old who had see a broken stranger in a hospital bed, and wondered who he was beneath the bandaged exterior.

Grandfather finally released her, sat on the bed, and patted it for her to join him. “Now
I
have a question.” He searched her face, those green eyes as piercing as she’d remembered them. “Do you love this man?”

Kat sat down and leaned into her grandfather’s shoulder, the only grandfather she’d even known, her true grandfather, woven into her heart. “Yes. He’s the one I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

She had unearthed so few answers in Russia. But, wrapped in Vadeem’s arms, the strong masculine redolence of strength and safety rushing through her on a wave of delight, the touch of his whiskered cheek on her face, she knew she’d found a different answer. Perhaps God’s special answer for her. Six-feet-two-inches of answer, with curly dark hair that begged a woman to muss it, muscled arms that held her without hesitation, and a heart that was just beginning to learn what it meant to walk with God.

She couldn’t wait to stick around to see that happen. Yes, Vadeem Spasonov was an answer she’d journeyed to Russia to find.

Grandfather tucked his arm around her with a strength that never diminished, regardless of his age. “True love is a rare find, Kat. Hang on tight and never let go.”

She wondered at the tremor in his voice.

“Now, go downstairs and keep your young man company. He’s tied up in knots.” Grandfather gave a wry chuckle. “Tell him not to be so nervous. I like him. He reminds me of a dear Russian friend I had once named Pavel.”