1
Sitka, Alaska; December 29, 1888
Everyone looked so very happy.
Rosalind Caldwell shrank deeper into her coat as she stared through the frosted glass, watching as men and women twirled around the dance floor. Muted music from the three fiddlers filtered outside, creating an air of happiness despite the dark Alaskan night and the snow falling around her.
In the center of the room, one of her oldest friends, Bryony Wetherby Amos, danced with her new husband, Mikhail.
She looked beautiful with her long red hair curled with a hot iron and woven with flowers sent from California. Her hair splayed against her cream-colored dress as Mikhail twirled her in his arms, the expression on his face filled with love.
Mikhail twirled Bryony again, and her wedding dress fanned out as she laughed. The music swallowed the sound of her laughter, but Rosalind didn’t have to use her imagination to know how vibrant and free it sounded.
And Mikhail . . .
Rosalind swallowed. Hopefully her future husband would look at her like that.
The problem was, that wasn’t how marriages worked in her world. She tried to picture the faceless stranger her father would choose, who would one day call himself her husband. Perhaps he’d be older, a seasoned politician or a wealthy businessman with a calculating mind and an eye for connections. Or maybe he’d be young and ambitious, willing to do anything to climb higher in society.
She just hoped he wasn’t cruel.
She forced her gaze back to Bryony and Mikhail. Bryony tipped her head back and smiled into her husband’s eyes, and Mikhail leaned in close, murmuring something against her temple.
“You’re allowed to go inside, you know.”
She jumped at the sound of the voice behind her, then sucked in a breath and turned around.
Almost as though she’d conjured him, Yuri Amos stood a few feet away, his dark hair dusted with snow, his suit coat open despite the cold. “Yuri, what are you doing out here?”
A crooked smile tilted one side of his mouth. “Making sure you don’t catch your death of cold, it seems. If you do, I’ll have to haul you inside and set you next to the stove. Then my siblings will notice what I’m up to, and Evelina will fuss until I promise to knit you a scarf, Kate will lecture me on frostbite and propriety, and Alexei will demand to know why you froze in the first place. It’s much simpler to make sure you don’t get frostbite in the first place. Trust me on this.”
“I’m perfectly warm.” It wasn’t a lie. Her fur coat and hat kept her warm in the ways that counted.
The cold loneliness that crept into her chest as she watched Mikhail and Bryony dance was another matter entirely.
She ran her eyes down Yuri’s lithe form and over the shoulders that were neither too wide nor too slender but seemed to fit perfectly with his narrow hips. “You, on the other hand, seem to have forgotten your coat entirely.”
He shrugged, his breath fogging in the air. “I’m conducting an experiment. I want to see how long I can last before Evelina calls me an idiot.”
Her lips tilted up into a quick smile before she could stop them. He was always doing that, finding little ways to make her smile. Never mind that she had little in her life to smile about.
“You still don’t have to stand out here.” He nodded her direction.
“I do, and we both know why.” The smile dropped from her face, and she glanced back through the window, her throat growing thick as she watched Mikhail plant a kiss against Bryony’s temple. “Bryony looks so very happy with your brother.”
“She is.”
Her throat tightened even more. If Bryony had married into any other family, Rosalind would have been inside celebrating with her. But not the Amoses. “I’m glad. She deserves to be happy.”
“So do you.” The soft words filled the night, and she could feel the warmth of Yuri’s gaze on her. It hadn’t left her since he’d appeared.
Just what was he hoping to learn by studying her for so long?
Nothing good, she was certain. Just like she was certain nothing good would come of the two of them being alone out here in the dark.
“I’m going to San Francisco,” he suddenly announced.
He was? She moved her gaze back to his, then forced herself to take a long breath while her mind filled with questions.Howlong will you be gone? Why are you leaving? Will you return quickly?
