“It’s not safe for us to openly be married until we know your father is in prison.” He opened his eyes and held up a hand, then backed farther away from the bed, as though standing any closer to it might catch him on fire. “And I’m not going to do anything to compromise you either. We got married knowing that what we have wouldn’t last, that it was just a legal way to protect you for a few weeks until you can hide in Texas. That’s all our marriage is, and it needs to stay that way. Now I’m going to go for a nice long walk and let you rest without me being around to distract you.”
He was out of the room before she had time to tell him not to go, the door closing behind him with an unmistakable thud.
She sat there for a moment, staring at the door in nothing but her undergarments, willing it to reopen and him to walk back inside.
But he didn’t. And why would he? He might be right about it not being safe for them to be married until her father was in prison. But her father had kidnapped his youngest brother, for heaven’s sake. Then her father had the Amos family’s ships searched and one of them had even been seized. He’d brought ridiculous charges against both Sacha and Mikhail for things they weren’t guilty of, and attempted to have their shipyardburned down. And now he and Uncle Simon were trying to steal shipping contracts out from under them.
She’d never had anything to do with her father’s vendetta against the Amoses, but Yuri probably thought of the cruel things her father had done every time he looked at her. How could he not?
Oh, it was a miracle Yuri had agreed to help her as much as he had.
What he’d said about their marriage was right. They’d been wed with the understanding that it was nothing more than a short-term, legal formality.
Which meant she needed to resign herself to the fact that there could be no future for the two of them—no matter how badly she wanted one.
36
Sitka; Three Days Later
“Idon’t care whether you’re the one in charge.” Alexei whirled around and glared at Mortimer Quimby, the territorial secretary of Alaska.
They were in the governor’s office, where, since the moment Simon Caldwell had left, the scrawny little man had set himself to running the territory as if it were one of his ledgers.
“You can’t give the Alaska Commercial Company sole fishing rights to the waters surrounding Prince of Wales Island.” Alexei jabbed a finger at Quimby. “The Tlingit have been fishing that land for centuries.”
“He can and he will,” Preston Caldwell said in a bored tone from where he sat in a chair near the wall of books. “He’s acting governor, and the contract has already been signed.”
Alexei kept his gaze pinned on the territorial secretary, a skinny man who sat in his office from sunup to sundown and had never once been to the island whose fishing rights he was giving away. “I wouldn’t listen to his advice. He’ll be going to prison soon, and he won’t be able to bribe you anymore.”
“I won’t be going to prison.” Preston fanned his fingers out in front of him, studying his nails. For what, Alexei didn’t know. As far as he was concerned, the man appeared far too haughty and indifferent about the legal battle ahead of him. “Everyone knows my attempted-murder charged is a farce. I’ll never be convicted.”
Alexei clenched his hands into fists. “A farce? I watched your daughter nearly die on my kitchen table.”
Preston stifled a yawn. “No one will believe your word over mine.”
“They won’t have to.” Alexei stalked closer to where the arrogant man still sat in the richly appointed chair. “Or did you forget that Alaska’s medical director is the one who saved your daughter’s life?”
“It was an accident.” Caldwell brushed an imaginary speck of lint off his suitcoat, still not bothering to look at him. “She fell down the stairs.”
“You kicked her until you broke five ribs, and the fact you’re out of jail for so much as a day makes me sick.”
Caldwell’s head jerked up at that and he stood, eyes flashing. “Be careful, Amos. Unlike the Russians, we don’t have an antiquated judicial system. Americans are innocent until proven guilty.”
“And I have no doubt you’ll be proven guilty,” Alexei growled.
The first thing the judge had done upon returning to Sitka was release Caldwell on bail, just like Jonas had predicted. No judge wanted to hold a man as powerful as Preston Caldwell in prison for a crime he had yet to be convicted of. The judge had made Caldwell promise that he wouldn’t leave Sitka, but the man clearly wasn’t worried about his day in court.
Probably because he planned to bribe the district attorney to reduce the charges. Alexei hadn’t officially heard of that happening yet, but he was waiting for it.
He’d long suspected both the Marshal and the district attorney had been in the Caldwell family’s back pocket. Now he could prove it for the lawman, but not for the attorney. Hibbs was listed as a bribe recipient on every single ledger Rosalind had given them about the seal-harvesting numbers.
If the secretary of the interior ever arrived in Sitka, that would be one of the first things Alexei showed him. He was beyond ready to end the corruption that had plagued Alaska for the last four years.
The territorial secretary cleared his throat. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Amos, but we’re not here to discuss the charges against Mr. Caldwell. The agreement I signed?—”
“What agreement are you talking about this time?” The office door banged open, and Alexei found himself looking at none other than Jacob Gray, secretary of the interior.
The snowy-haired man stepped inside the office and looked around, his brows pinching before his gaze settled back on Quimby. “Please tell me you’re not trying to give away hunting or fishing rights that could be sold for a reasonable fee.”
