My Only One Page 3

  “Please call me Abby. I can’t stand formality.”

  “I’ve already gotten that impression. Then you may call me Alec, if you choose.”

  He had a wonderful name, Abby thought. She liked the dancing highlights in his eyes and his ability to parry her lightning-quick exchanges. “I’d better slow down,” she said more to herself than him. “It’s my red hair. It’s always getting me into trouble.” Touching her cheeks, she smiled up at him. “I’d better finish my explanation about Americans being so open and friendly. I’ve found that people born in the western part of the country are far more friendly and trusting than those born in the east. I was born in La Jolla, California, and where I was raised, it was the thing to do.”

  “I see. So, reaching out and touching me was a normal thing to do, even though I’m a stranger?”

  She made a face. “Well…not every stranger. You have a trusting face. Besides, you saved my life. That should merit a hug of gratitude, too.”

  For an instant, Alec wanted to suggest something far more intimate. The idea shocked even him, for he had been raised in a very strict, disciplined environment. “I think I like these western people from America,” he teased. “Before we go further, how do you feel? Are you hungry?”

  Excited about Alec and his friendliness, Abby had forgotten about her own condition. She stopped, took internal stock of herself, and then said, “I’m starving, and I feel fine, except for a sore throat.”

  “You swallowed a lot of seawater.” She had a lovely, long neck, and he ached to reach out and lightly trail his fingers along its length.

  Abby said nothing as the experience and the fear came back to her. “I—I almost died.”

  “Yes,” Alec whispered. “A terrible loss if that had happened.”

  Struck by the emotion in his husky voice, Abby studied his closed, unreadable face. Alec couldn’t disguise the feeling in his voice, however, and she allowed his comment to pass without reaction. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Is there any water around? I’m dying of thirst.”

  “Of course.” Alec busied himself getting her a glass of water from the examination room next door. She had suddenly paled when she realized she had almost died. Dr. Ryback had asked Alec to remain with Abby, the physician hadn’t wanted her to wake up alone in a strange place. Alec had willingly volunteered and had gotten the choice assignment mainly because he was one of the few men on board who spoke fluent English. Picking up the phone attached to the bulkhead of the examination room, he called mess. Letting the chief steward know that he wasn’t going to dine with the other officers as usual, he then ordered two trays of food to be brought to the dispensary.

  He returned to Abby’s bedside and handed her the large glass of water. She drank the entire contents. Alec motioned to a small room. “There is a shower in there. I have food being prepared and brought to us. Perhaps you would like to clean up before you eat?”

  Abby leapt at his idea. “Yes, I’d love to, thank you.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked down at the coarse white gown she wore. “I smell awful!”

  Unable to stop the smile, Alec released the tubing from one side of the bed. The IV had been taken out previously, so she was fully mobile once again. “I didn’t notice that the gown detracted from you,” he told her wryly. “Beauty transcends such things.”

  Heat stung Abby’s cheeks. She liked the officer’s dry sense of humor. “Our American men could learn something from you,” she said, placing her legs across the bed, the deck cool beneath her bare feet.

  It was time to leave, but Alec hesitated at the hatch. “You must tell me more of what that means while we eat our dinner later. I’ll be in Dr. Ryback’s office, waiting for you. Captain Stratman had your luggage brought over.” He pointed to it sitting in the corner next to her bed. “Once you’ve showered and dressed, come join me.”

  Abby nodded and watched as the officer pulled the hatch partially closed to give her privacy. For a moment, she sat on the bed, just getting used to the ship’s rolling movement. The deck tilted slightly one way, and then the other. The Argonaut, because of its small size, had been like a small cork on the Bering Sea, so the destroyer was infinitely more stable in comparison. Still, the dizziness came and went, and she didn’t want to risk further injury by being too spontaneous about sliding off the bed too soon.

  An hour later, she appeared at the entrance to Dr. Ryback’s office. Alec immediately stood up from behind the desk, which, like all the furniture, was bolted to the deck so it couldn’t be tossed around. When she stepped hesitantly across the hatch, Alec’s eyes widened in appreciation. Although Abby’s hair was still damp, it hung in shining copper curls about her shoulders. She wore a pair of decidedly old blue jeans that lovingly outlined her long legs. The sweatshirt had the endangered minke whale emblazoned on it.

  “Come,” Alec invited, “sit down. Our steward just brought us these dinner trays.”

  Abby chose a metal chair near the desk. “I’m so starved I could eat sushi!”

  Alec brought the tray over to her. Abby’s long fingers curved delicately around the edges of the tray. There was little about her, Alec decided, that wasn’t beautiful or graceful. “Sushi? What is that?” He went back to his seat behind the desk and took the cover off his tray.

  “Raw fish. Everyone eats it over in Japan, and it’s all the rage in the States now.” Abby stared down at the tray. There were two thick, greasy lengths of sausage, a slice of black bread, some boiled cabbage and a thin, watery soup with more cabbage floating in it.

  Alec watched Abby’s mobile features. Her fine, thin eyebrows drew into a worried line as she studied the contents on her tray. “And you prefer raw food to cooked food?” he wondered aloud. Was that why she was looking disappointed?

  “Uhhh…no, as a matter of fact, I can’t stand sushi. My friend Susan Stone, who lives across the hall from me with her daughter, loves it. We went to her boss’s home a month ago for a dinner party.” Abby lifted her head and managed a weak smile. “I didn’t realize it was a sushi party, and neither did Susan.”

  “You couldn’t eat it?”

  She shivered. “Ugh! No way.”

  Alec waited for her to take the first bite. That was proper dinner etiquette, to allow the lady to begin eating first. He was starving, so he silently wished that Abby would begin eating her meal. However, he was too polite, too much of a gentleman, to suggest such a thing to her. “And so, did you starve that night?”

  With a roll of her eyes, Abby laughed. “I grabbed Susan and we sneaked into the kitchen. The caterer made me a peanut butter sandwich instead. Susan’s a wonderful friend,” Abby said with feeling. “She puts up with me and my many eccentricities.”

  Patience was something Alec had by heritage. He watched as Abby’s hands moved gracefully as she talked. She was never still. “Then,” he said tactfully, “this meal should appeal to you. Nothing is raw or uncooked.” With more pride, he added, “The food you are about to eat is served only to the officers on board. Meat is a very rare commodity for us, and the steward has given you a double portion. Please, eat.”

  Distressed, Abby took her spoon and tried the thin soup. It was bland, with no hint of seasoning, just a slight taste of cabbage flavor to the broth. She saw the officer watching her, almost hawklike. “It’s good. Really good,” she lied.

  Unsure, Alec picked up his silverware and began to eat methodically. “While you were showering, I talked to First Captain Denisov, the commander of our destroyer. The seas are calming down, and he anticipates we’ll reach Kodiak in five days.”

  “Good,” Abby said, finishing off the small bowl of soup. She took her fork and moved it through the heaping strands of cut and boiled cabbage. It was dripping in grease, and she hesitated.

  “Is there something wrong with the food?”

  Abby chewed on her lower lip and chanced a look at the officer. “I—well, it’s awfully greasy. You know—cholesterol.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

/>   She laid the limp cabbage back on the tray and put the fork aside. “In America, half the deaths each year are due to heart attacks because we eat too much meat, and too many other foods with high cholesterol in them. The fat clogs your arteries and gives you heart problems.” She gave a delicate shrug and her voice became apologetic. “I’m sorry, I just can’t eat the cabbage or sausage, Alec. It’s too greasy. And besides that, I’m a strict vegetarian.”

  Frowning, he tried to table his hurt over her decision not to eat the costly and rare meat. “A vegetarian?”

  “Yes. I don’t eat any kind of meat, including seafood. I eat lots of other things, though,” Abby said quickly, seeing that his features mirrored injury. “Rice, bread, any kind of fruits, vegetables, lots of salads, nuts and things like that.” She watched as he grew more distressed. “I’m sorry. I imagine it’s tough to keep lots of fresh fruits and vegetables on board. You’ve done your best to feed me. It’s my problem.”

  “No, you need to eat something.”

  “The soup and bread are fine. Really.” With a slight smile, Abby added, “Did you know half the people in my country are overweight?”

  Alec motioned to her. “That may be so, but you’re too thin.” He was confused by her explanation, thinking Americans had strange ideas about food and health customs.

  Abby looked down at herself. “I know. Susan gets on me about that all the time. But I’m so busy with SOWF matters that I’m constantly traveling. And when I travel, I don’t eat much.”

  Getting up, Alec brought his bowl of soup over to her, plus a thick slice of black bread. “I won’t be responsible for you losing any more weight, then. Here, eat these. The bread is rich and nutritious. I’ll order more if you like.”

  Touched, Abby took his offering without protest. Alec could have rightfully acted rebuffed by her eccentric eating habits, but he didn’t. She watched as he ordered her another large bowl of soup and four more slices of the black bread. Not wanting to appear more ungrateful, she began to eat in earnest, even though the soup was little more than water. If Alec considered the food he ate as an officer good, what on earth did the crew eat?

  After the meal, Abby was pleasantly full. The trays were taken away by a teenage steward with sandy hair. He tried to glance at her inconspicuously, without appearing rude about his curiosity. When he left, Alec grinned.

  “You know you are a celebrity on the ship, don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “There are no women on board, and so when the crew found out we had rescued a red-haired American woman, the rumors began to fly. This young steward will go back to his quarters after his watch and tell everyone how he actually saw you, that you aren’t a rumor at all, but very much alive and beautiful.”

  “I feel very pampered and cared for, Alec. Thanks to you.”

  He smiled and barely tipped his head in her direction. “So, let me show you to your quarters. Captain Stratman has asked that when you feel like it, he’d like to talk to you on the radio. I can take you up to the bridge after we deliver your luggage to your quarters.”

  With food in her stomach, Abby felt her returning strength. “I’d like that.”

  By the time they arrived on the bridge, dusk had fallen across the Bering Sea. Abby felt the intense stares of the crew, who tried to look at her discreetly. In America, they’d gape. First Captain Denisov was a barrellike man, his hair steel gray just like his eyes. His skin was ruddy, and his smile genuinely filled with welcome.

  “Rostov, I see you’ve brought our guest to me.” He stretched out his hand in Abby’s direction. “Glad to see you alive and well, Dr. Fielding.”

  Denisov’s handshake was powerful and Abby quickly released his grip. She gave the skipper her thanks not only for the rescue, but for the care afterward.

  “It’s nothing.” Denisov gestured to the rear of the bridge. “Take a look. There is the Argonaut, who is in surprisingly good shape after the collision.”

  Abby was glad that Alec remained at her side. The destroyer had several spotlights focused on the Argonaut from its array of radar, radio antennas and other equipment positioned above the bridge. The small trawler was being expertly towed from the stern of the destroyer. Denisov ordered the radioman to make contact with Captain Stratman for her.

  Alec led Abby to the console so that she could talk to the American skipper. He showed her how to operate the microphone and then handed it to her.

  “Abby!” Stratman boomed over the radio, “Are you all right, girl?”

  She laughed and held the microphone close to her lips while looking out the thick window toward the Argonaut. “I’m fine, John. Just fine.”

  “Thank all the saints. Girl, I thought for sure you were goin’ down for the count.”

  Abby glanced up at Alec, who stood relaxed and yet alert nearby. “I had a very brave navigation officer by the name of Second Captain Alec Rostov save my life, John.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t see your rescue. I had my hands full just getting the Argonaut out of the way of that Japanese catcher. Hey! Things are cookin’, gal.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Did you know that the Soviet helicopter that rescued you photographed the whole event? And Brad got it on video, too. Captain Denisov has agreed to lend us a copy of their film and a copy of a follow-up article that’s being prepared by a reporter from Izvestia. How about that? Brad is already on the radio with Anchorage about what happened. Some SOWF representative, a Tony Cummings, is flying out to Kodiak to pick up the film and article and take them back to Anchorage for release to the press. He’s going to take Brad’s video of the collision, too. Tony’s hoping that the national news networks will carry the story. Ain’t that great? We might get national airtime!”

  “Oh, John, that’s wonderful! Wonderful!” Abby glanced up at Alec. His features were shadowed and thoughtful, his eyes never leaving her face. It sent her heart pounding suddenly in her chest. Distracted, Abby asked, “John, what are you doing about the Japanese ship? Have you filed a protest yet? Did they stop trying to follow the pods of humpback whales?”

  “Whoa! One question at a time. No, girl, I’m afraid they haven’t stopped hunting the whales. Yes, I’ve filed a protest, but you know how that goes. The U.S. hasn’t been enforcing the Pelly and Magnuson Amendments that’re supposed to slap the hands of these countries illegally hunting the endangered whales. So you know my protest will fall on deaf ears in Washington. Listen, don’t worry about all these details. You nearly died out there this morning. Just get well. I’ve already got repairs underway here. We’ll patch up the Argonaut in Kodiak and be ready to come back out here and give ’em hell again.”

  Her fingers tightened painfully around the microphone. “John, we’ve got to stop them! I don’t care what the cost.”

  “The cost was almost your life today, Abby,” he warned seriously. “Next time, we might not be so lucky.”

  “Next time, we’ll do the same thing,” Abby whispered, her voice vibrating with anger. “Those whales have no way to protect themselves from a harpoon. We’re all that stands between them and death. No, John, we’ll be going back out as soon as repairs are made to your ship.”

  “Okay, girl, you always did get your way when you wanted it.” He laughed. “But stand by for action. If Tony can get us national news coverage, it ought to really turn up the heat internationally on the Japanese, Icelandic and Norwegian whalers who are defying the ban on endangered whales. Good work, girl. Gotta sign off for now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning, eh?”

  “Okay, John. Thanks…thanks for everything. It took a lot of courage to stare down the mouth of that catcher this morning.”

  With a chuckle, Stratman said, “Now I know how Jonah felt just before the whale swallowed him,” then he signed off.

  Abby handed the microphone back to Alec and thanked him.

  Denisov came over. “I think you should know, Dr. Fielding, that we’ve been communicating with your U.S. Coast Guard stationed at Kod
iak.” He smiled slightly at Alec and continued. “Apparently your brave encounter with the Japanese whaler is making waves of its own with the press from around the world. The Coast Guard informed us just before you came up to the bridge that they are giving us permission to enter Kodiak with the Argonaut. But there is one more surprise. The international press awaits both of you in Anchorage.”

  Abby glanced up at Alec, who was scowling. “What does that mean, Captain Denisov?” she asked.

  “A very large press conference is being prepared for you once we anchor in Kodiak.” The stern planes of Denisov’s face became more serious. “Captain Rostov, you have just been ordered by fleet headquarters to act as liaison officer to Dr. Fielding for the coming two weeks. When we arrive in Kodiak, both of you will be picked up by Coast Guard helicopter and flown directly to the Hotel Captain Cook in Anchorage for the press conference. The video and the film will be shown, and both of you will answer the press’s questions.”

  Stunned by the turn of events, Alec cleared his throat. “Sir, I’m not really a public-affairs officer—”

  “Moscow has faith in your ability to tell the story as it happened,” Denisov replied. “When you reach Anchorage, you are to escort Dr. Fielding to the various press and television stations. A Coast Guard officer will also be your liaison. Congratulations. Glasnost at its finest will be seen in action by the entire world.”

  Alec nodded, stunned by the news. “Thank you, Captain.” He saw Abby smile, her eyes shining with such life that the assignment seemed insignificant compared to the fact he’d be with her for two weeks. The thought was tantalizing. Provocative.

  “Wonderful!” Abby added, giving both men a winning smile. “It will give me a chance to show you a little of America, Alec.”

  Denisov’s eyebrows rose, no doubt over Abby’s informalities. Hiding his nervousness, Alec smiled. “With glasnost a priority, Dr. Fielding, I’ll be happy as a representative of the U.S.S.R. naval service to be shown your country and way of life.”