Fires of Kiev Read online

  “Is the Priest as handsome as the godfather, though?” Meredith said, flirting.

  “You think I’m handsome?” His eyes danced. “What will my family think when they hear you say that?”

  “They won’t know what to think because they don’t speak English,” Meredith teased.

  “Some things are obvious regardless of language,” Kostya countered, amused. “I don’t speak Latin, yet I’m able to follow mass.”

  “I’ll try to keep my longing stares and hopeless sighs to a minimum.” She nudged against him, smiling as they entered the gate to the church grounds.

  The church, the largest building around, was built on the highest ground in the area. As they climbed the dirt road leading to the entrance, Meredith first noticed its two dark-brown towers with domed tops. Decorated with gold embellishments around the towers, windows, doors, and roofline, the cross-shaped church was traditional Ukrainian, but exotic to Meredith.

  They entered the vestibule, and Kostya was swept away to get ready for the ceremony. Meredith entered the nave and took a seat behind the family as the chapel slowly filled. Along the walls, colorful stained glass windows filtered the light from outside. Artistic scenes from the Bible were depicted in the glass and murals that covered the walls. Large lanterns hung from the tall ceilings, creating a warm light that softened the space. Meredith’s gaze circled the room, discovering beauty wherever her eyes rested.

  The family greeted many in attendance with hugs and kisses on each cheek. Kostya stood in back, next to the girl who was to be godmother, and expertly welcomed and ushered in the attendees. Soon, Kostya’s brother, Bohdan, and his wife took their places on the front row, their baby in the arms of his godparents.

  As Meredith witnessed the christening, calm enveloped her. Maybe the ambiance of the beautiful church, or the adoration of a family welcoming a new little one created the mood, but watching Kostya as he performed the rites to be the child’s godfather made Meredith hunger for the same commitment and connection, sure as the bonds that were celebrated here.

  She wanted to be in love. She longed for a pair of calloused hands to hold her, their roughness proof of work they had completed together. She yearned for eyes, often glimmering with laughter, flawed with wrinkles at their corners, yet becoming even more attractive. He would be strong to protect his family and stand for honor, yet gentle when he came to her at night.

  Lost in thought, Meredith realized she was watching Kostya with a rather besotted expression as he held the infant, cooing and whispering. Before she could deflect it, his gaze found hers and connected. The corners of his mouth turned upward and his eyelids crinkled. She felt her face flush. Her daydream collided with reality. Could someone like Kostya love me?

  Distributing candles for the final ritual, the priest led Kostya holding the baby, the godmother, and the young children as he circled the font three times. The children held their candles proudly, but none could come close to the delight on the face of Kostya as he held his nephew.

  The infant was handed back to his mother, and Kostya’s brother put his arm around her, gazing down at his son. The Priest attended to the mass, and Kostya found his way back to Meredith to sit down. He smiled at her and winked, causing her color to rise again.

  “You can sit with your family. I’m all right,” Meredith said.

  “I can sit with you, too,” he answered, and he slid in close on the crowded pew.

  She lowered her head, and tried not to think about his thigh that was pressed up against her leg or his hand that rested casually on his knee. She imagined running her fingers along the lines on his palm and interlacing her fingers with his. Just the thought of holding his hand caused a jolt of adrenaline to her system. With his proximity as a distraction, she struggled to focus on the mass, fighting the urge to turn and stare at Kostya.

  The rest of the service went quickly, and although Meredith could not understand the language, she enjoyed the whole experience. So many moments touched her during the mass, but none more than seeing Kostya’s pride while standing with his nephew. The setting of the ceremony was perfect, from the filtered light through the windows to the people who were warm and friendly. By the time the service was over, Meredith’s heart was full.

  After the service, the Dychenko family led the whole village to a potluck picnic in an area of their land near one of the streams. It seemed that every mother in the village sought opportunities to showcase her best recipes. Pies, cakes, and pastries of all sorts were interspersed with roasted meats, vegetables in sauces, casseroles, and breads. There were hearty soups and stews and fresh fruits that were in season. People were already filling plates, both for themselves and the little children, and colorful blankets were set up on the tall grasses for the younger people to sit and eat. For older folks, several chairs had been brought from the house to make them comfortable.

  Children were running around the field, playing chase or just twirling in the sunshine. The man of the hour, the newly christened baby, nuzzled into his mother’s arms wearing a pair of blue overalls and a newspaper-boy hat.

  “I never heard the child’s name today, Kostya,” Meredith leaned into him and said.

  “Ah, Meri. He was given a fine name. His name is Kostyantin Bohdan Dychenko.”

  “Kostyantin. Is Kostya a nickname for that?”

  “Yes, I believe it is.” Kostya nodded, slyly grinning.

  Meredith hit him lightly in the arm. “The child was named after you?”

  “And his father, Bohdan,” Kostya protested. Meredith gave him a crooked stare. “Kostyantin is a name with a proud history in our family. My father’s brother, a great-grandfather…”

  “No wonder you are the child’s godfather,” Meredith said. “Congratulations, Kostya.” She looked into his eyes genuinely, and he smiled.

  “I think we need to do our part to finish this food, don’t you?” Kostya said.

  Meredith agreed and they stepped over to the tables to fill their plates. Kostya stayed by her side, helping translate when needed, and escorting her to one of the colorful blankets to sit.

  Only moments after they sat to eat, Kostya’s nieces and nephews surrounded them. It seemed that Kostya had a reputation of being the fun uncle, and he quickly arranged a game using a playground ball. A group of girls sat around Meredith and began speaking in Ukrainian.

  “They want to play with your hair, Meri,” Kostya called out, translating. “They believe its gold color is royal, and you are a princess.”

  Meredith took the barrette out of her hair, retrieved a small hairbrush from her purse, and handed it to one of the girls. Three little ladies braided and curled and twisted Meredith’s hair while she sat patiently. Kostya had taken the other children into the field and led them in a ball game that was generating joyous laughter and raucous fun. The adults all watched, clapping for good catches or fast sprints. Meanwhile, Meredith’s girls were making daisy chains with the nearby purple lavender stems and encircling her head with them. She smiled at them and reacted when they laughed, and although she did not speak the language, she found herself enjoying their attention.

  When the girls wandered into the rows of lavender to gather more flowers, Meredith got up to join Kostya. He playfully tossed her the ball then chased her, grabbing her around her waist to tackle her. When she went down laughing, a dogpile of Kostya’s little nieces and nephews loaded on top of them. Causing shrieks of joy, Kostya lifted each child off one by one, handing them off to moms and dads who were ready to go home. Helping Meredith up, Kostya led her back to their blanket, spread out between rows of lavender, with scattered picked flowers scenting the air.

  They laid down flat on their backs side by side, exhausted. When the cries of children and hum of conversation quieted, Meredith turned on her side and propped up on her elbow before scanning the clearing. “How often do you have all of them over? I’m tapped out after one afternoon.”

  “I only see them on holidays.” Kostya thought for a mom
ent. “And family events like weddings or christenings…and birthdays.”

  “So you see them all the time, then?”

  He rolled toward her smiling. “They are here a lot,” he admitted. “But in the winter, we stay indoors.”

  Meredith sighed, shaking her head at the image of the rambunctious group being cooped up indoors. “At our house, it was just my brother, Will, and me.”

  “At least you had each other,” Kostya said. “Many people aren’t that lucky.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. But he never wanted to attend the tea parties I threw for Bubbles.”

  “Bubbles?”

  “My stuffed bunny rabbit.”

  Kostya’s lips turned up, unleashing his dimples. “So Bubbles liked tea?”

  “Of course he did!” Meredith pushed his shoulder playfully. “His favorite was Darjeeling with milk and sugar.” She frowned as he stifled a laugh. “Everyone else loved my tea parties—Miss Olson, Agents Fleming and Roberts, Mrs. Needham…”

  “Who are they? More toys?” Kostya asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

  Meredith grimaced and a flush crept across her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to expose this part of her life. “They were just people who lived with us.” She bit her lip then rolled on her back, her arms crossed over her stomach. “They worked for my family,” she confessed.

  She didn’t know why she felt ashamed of her affluent childhood, but she hoped Kostya wouldn’t judge her because of it. The world Kostya grew up in was so different from hers. Where he probably fought for every scrap of privilege he had, Meredith had been given every advantage on a silver platter. Trying to explain, she continued. “They worked for us, but I thought they were my friends.”

  “I am glad that they were there to attend Bubbles’ parties. It would be sad if no one had been there to enjoy them.” Kostya lay on his side and reached his hand over to hers. “I find myself jealous of anyone who has a part of your life.” As he wrapped his fingers around hers, her insides vibrated like the strings of a violin. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as their fingers intertwined and his arm encircled her arm. Any questions about her childhood or her past disappeared from her mind. His touch, his magical, electric touch, expressed acceptance—she didn’t need to pretend to be anything other than who she was.

  He drew their hands between them as they lay parallel on the blanket. Meredith watched intently as he traced her fingers with his thumb. She could feel his gaze studying her, but she hesitated to look up at him for fear that the moment would end.

  In the quiet of the lavender, a wave of reality struck. Adventures like this never happened to her. Sure, she had friends who hooked up with virtual strangers on spring break or went home with a new friend from a bar, but Meredith had always avoided these situations to protect her reputation as Senator St. Claire’s daughter. Here, even an ordinary American medical volunteer and a student from Kiev wouldn’t have a future. What possibilities could she have with a man like Kostya?

  Yet her mind continued exploring some interesting possibilities.

  Breaking the silence, Kostya smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Pryntsesa.” He grinned, touching the crown of flowers still encircling her head. Tingles coursed up and down her spine.

  What if these feelings are more than ordinary?

  The idea was attractive, but doubts kept chasing her thoughts. Breaking the link between their hands, Meredith sat up.

  “Tomorrow I go to Kiev and then Donetsk.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “At the end of the summer, I’ll be back in America starting medical school.”

  “Mm hmm,” he agreed.

  “Doesn’t it bother you?” Meredith tilted her head toward him. Softly, she confessed, “This—our friendship, or relationship, or whatever it is—it’s just started. But it’ll be over before it even starts.”

  He sat up and for a breathless moment his gaze glided over her skin. Reaching out to her hands again, he traced her fingers with his thumb. “It’s not ending, Meri. Just beginning. This—we—are happening.” When Kostya spoke, her heart beat in triple time. Her inner optimist wanted to believe that being swept off her feet, love at first sight, a fairytale romance, was possible. But the inner cynic in her head had doubts. Her choices here would lead her straight toward disaster if she weren’t very careful.

  “Pretty words from a man usually means he’s trying to talk his way into a woman’s bed,” she said cynically. She met his tender gaze with what she hoped was a stern one.

  “Bed? I don’t see any bed,” Kostya teased. He leaned over, intertwining her fingers in his. “I would never push you. Even if this were love.”

  Love? It was like that one word echoed between them. Love. Where had that come from? Were these the lies of a man trying to score in bed, or an honest assessment of what was happening? Either way, Meredith knew she ought to pull away from Kostya and run away—far and fast. But instead she longed to do the opposite. Believing him was easy. Fighting what was happening was hard. Involuntarily, her hands curved into his, and she leaned in close.

  His lips touched hers so softly, yet with moves so sure, how could she doubt? She responded tentatively to his kiss, sampling the taste and texture of him, but retreating after just a moment. “Wait…” she breathed, frozen with her forehead leaning on his, her eyes closed to shut out the world. She couldn’t see how they would ever find each other—again—after this weekend. Meredith fought her doubts; she wanted this minute and this minute only to matter, but there was no path to a future.

  Gently backing away, Kostya pulled Meredith’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently. She felt her breath constrict, and her lips parted involuntarily. Observing her reaction, he smiled. “You feel it, too.” Meredith nodded gently and sighed.

  “I will wait as long as you ask,” Kostya said, rising to his knees and helping her up. “But now, we must see about the car and send you to Kiev.”

  Blinking through the sudden shift of mood, she stepped aside and folded up the blanket. “I’m already delayed a day. The clinic will be glad to see me.”

  “Lucky clinic,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the house, the unfinished kiss playing an endless loop inside her thoughts.

  Chapter 3

  During the few hours that were left of the afternoon, Kostya and his brothers worked on Meredith’s car. The fix was simply replacing a cracked hose, but the radiator had boiled dry, so once the car was repaired and the radiator was filled, they wanted to run it to make sure nothing else had cracked. The brothers returned just as Kostya’s mother and sisters were laying out leftovers for dinner. Meredith tried to help where she could, but with the language barrier, it was difficult to know what to do.

  All the ladies seemed enthralled with her presence, tittering and giggling like girls. She did not understand anything that they said to each other, but they kept saying Kostya’s name and stroking her cheeks and hair. They were all happy, so she simply smiled and hoped that she was making a good impression. The family sat and talked for the rest of the evening and into the night. Listening to the cadence of the conversation, Meredith felt warm and peaceful and at home.

  Just as the night was wrapping up and parents were getting the children to bed, Bohdan came to Kostya and they spoke back and forth for a moment. Kostya nodded, and looking at Meredith he responded to Bohdan.

  Addressing Meredith, he said, “Bohdan was going to take me to Kiev on Tuesday so he can keep my truck, but he wonders if I could ride with you and save him the trip. With the new baby, he’d rather stay home, yes?”

  To Meredith, there was no question. A guide to Kiev and more time with Kostya would be appreciated. “Of course, we can ride together. You can help me find where I need to go and I can take you to the university.”

  Kostya grinned and translated for Bohdan, prompting him to give Meredith a hug and kiss on the cheek. He called to his wife, who was tucking in Daria, and she was obviously pleased.

 
; In just a few minutes, the lights were out, and only the glow of the fire provided light to see. The little girls were asleep, or at least quiet, and Kostya took Meredith’s hand and stood by the door on his way to the barn.

  “I will be ready to go early tomorrow,” Kostya said.

  “Thank you for everything, Kostya,” Meredith said. Despite the low light, his shadowy blue eyes caught her gaze. Between them, the unfinished kiss from the picnic still demanded attention. Ignoring its pull, she continued. “A lot of people would have not been as welcoming, but you and your family have been wonderful. I’ll never forget you.”

  Kostya faced her, holding both her hands by her side. “Forget me? This is not over, Meri. Not even after tomorrow.”

  She felt fire down to her toes as he pulled her close to him and held her. “How can you say that when soon, I’ll be thousands of miles away?” She closed her eyes and settled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

  “Sometimes fate triumphs.” Kostya stepped back and lifted her chin with his fingertips. “I don’t know how it will be, but I know our story is written in the stars. How else could you explain how you found me?”

  Caught in the moment, she closed her eyes and sought him, dying to touch him, to share a kiss, but he slipped out the door, leaving her breathless and wanting.

  ****

  In the morning, Kostya and Meredith left early. Meredith hoped to get to Kiev to claim the medicines before another day passed. They traveled along the narrow, damaged roads she remembered from the other day when she was lost, but Kostya navigated them and brought them to the E40, the main highway into Kiev from the eastern provinces. They reached Kiev by noon, and found the medical supplier by two o’clock.

  Meredith was relieved to have the medications in her possession and was even more relieved when she was able to call the clinic from her hotel and explain her delay. So much had happened, it was hard to believe that she had only lost a day on the trip. She thought about leaving that afternoon and driving straight through into the night, but between Kostya being there and wanting to avoid a replay of the breakdown from the other night, she opted to stay in Kiev.