Mikhail turned, then headed back toward where the trunk sat, and the rest of them followed. A half minute later, they were all trudging through the snow again, and once more, Bryony was aware of just how hard the wind was driving the snow into their faces.
But as they walked, she couldn’t help but keep her eyes pinned to Mikhail’s straight back and strong shoulders. The man was little more than a stranger, yet the moment he’d realized Heath was in danger, he’d come running without any thought of the risk he was taking.
It was one of the most selfless things she’d ever witnessed.
12
Sitka, Alaska; That Day
“So as you can see...” Governor Caldwell gestured to the trio of shipping contracts lying atop his desk, then pinned his eyes to Alexei. “Due to the suspicions surrounding the Sitka Trading Company, I’m left with no other choice than to cancel these contracts.”
Alexei crossed his arms over his chest, every muscle of his body tense. He didn’t care that he was standing inside Governor Caldwell’s immaculate office. He didn’t even care that the tic on the side of his jaw was likely giving away his anger. He had every right to be angry. “The only person with suspicions regarding my family’s company is you.”
“That’s not an accurate statement,” Preston Caldwell said from where he sat in the chair opposite the governor’s sprawling, polished desk. “I have the same suspicions as my brother.”
“Of course you do.” He didn’t know why Preston was there. He had no authority to cancel or enter into contracts on Alaska’s behalf. But the governor’s brother had been present since the moment he’d walked into the room for their scheduled meeting.
Never mind that the meeting shouldn’t have been scheduled in the first place. He’d renewed his government contracts that spring under Governor Trent—not that it was doing him any good.
“I will fight this.” Alexei picked up one of the contracts and waved it in the air. “I will write to Washington, DC. I will write to Secretary Gray, and I will tell them you terminated these contracts without cause. And don’t forget, the contracts state that you owe me a two-thousand-dollar fee for canceling early. That’s two thousand dollars for each contract.”
Governor Caldwell leaned farther back in his chair and stroked his light brown mustache, as though bored with the conversation. “On the contrary. We’re terminating the contracts because you were unable to uphold your commitments. If anyone owes a fee, it’s you. Your last delivery was a day late.”
“Because you held theAurorain port for a five-day-long search that was completely unwarranted.” Alexei shoved a hand through his hair.
“I’m afraid the contracts don’t allow any leeway in that regard.” The governor’s lips curled into a thin smile beneath his mustache.
Compared to his brother, Preston, Governor Simon Caldwell didn’t look nearly as ruthless. His light brown hair was a bit unruly, not slicked back and perfectly pomaded. When compared to the high cheekbones and thin nose of his brother, the new governor certainly appeared softer, maybe even fatherly.
But that wasn’t stopping the man from using his power to get whatever he wanted.
“All the contracts say is that the government can void them after failure to deliver goods in a timely manner.” The governor flipped the top page of one of the contracts and pointed to a clause halfway down the second page.
Had the man gone daft? “This is the shipping industry.” Alexei seethed through clenched teeth. “A delay of one day is still considered timely. A bad storm can delay ships for up to three days alone, which you know, since the Alaska Commercial Company owns ships aplenty.”
“My decision remains.” The governor leaned forward and snatched the contract out of Alexei’s hand, then set it back on his desk beside the other two. “I’m terminating your contracts, effective immediately.”
“Does this mean you’re going to stop having my ships searched?”
The governor’s lips twisted into a scowl beneath his mustache. “The RCS has the right to search any ship that comes into port.”
“You’re right, it does. But it’s not just searchinganyship, and it’s not searchingeveryship either. It’s only searching mine.”
“That’s because the RCS suspects you of carrying illicit materials.” Preston spoke again from where he sat studying his nails in his chair.
Alexei whirled on him. “And just what are you basing your suspicions on? The fact you don’t like me?”
Preston offered him a sharp smile. “Does it matter?”
It didn’t. Not really. That’s what was so frustrating. Everything about the situation felt wrong. There was no question his company was being singled out, but how could he stop it when his enemies controlled both the governor’s office and the largest company in Alaska? “As I said, Secretary Gray will be hearing from me.”
The governor only smiled. It wasn’t cruel, not the way his brother’s smiles were, but there was still something sly about it. “Go ahead and write him, Amos. See how far it gets you.”
Alexei didn’t bother to respond. Anything he said would be lost on the two snakes anyway. Instead, he turned and strode out of the office without so much as a good-bye tossed over his shoulder.
He stormed through the governor’s outer office, where two clerks and a typist sat behind desks, then into the ornate hallway. At one time, the administrative building had been the Russian governor’s mansion, but even twenty years after the transition of power, it still bore homage to its Russian heritage.
The walls were paneled in dark, polished wood, intricately carved with floral and geometric patterns that brought to mind tales of the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Wide gilded moldings framed the high ceilings too, but the Americans had replaced what had once been a series of bronze chandeliers with more serviceable lighting, just as they’d substituted flimsy brown curtains for the heavy, jewel-toned drapes that had once adorned the windows.
