Adapting Desires (Endangered Heart Series Book 3) Page 14

  “You know we starting fighting because of a party? This is the kind of stuff kids argue about, not married adults.”

  “You are young,” Mrs. Levkin emphasized. “And you’ve been married less than a year. Once you’ve been together longer, these arguments will be fewer and farther in between.”

  “Is the honeymoon phase over already?” Emilia huffed. “It seems too soon.”

  Mrs. Levkin leaned forward in her chair, her face etched in confusion as she reached her hand out to rest on Emilia’s. It seemed to her that the older woman was struggling with some heavy thoughts of her own, but Emilia didn’t want to pry without provocation.

  “I told you I was married once, didn’t I?”

  Emilia only shook her head, secretly eager to hear more.

  “I only married him so I could come to this country. I was only a little younger than you, but my country was very poor, and we were always led to believe that America was a place of limitless possibilities.”

  With her tall stature and elegant posture, it wasn’t difficult to envision Mrs. Levkin as a blushing bride, though admittedly it was hard to picture her young. Regardless, Emilia could barely imagine anyone being desperate enough to be a mail-order bride—to marry a stranger as a means of escape.

  “Really?” she asked. “Did it work out?”

  Mrs. Levkin laughed freely. “Oh my goodness, no! As nice as he was in Moldova, the moment we arrived in the United States he became abusive, calling me names and hitting me when it suited him.” The older woman paused briefly and looked away before returning to her tale, the pain in her eyes evident even after all those passing years. “My limp is the result of one particularity bad episode.”

  The information reeled in Emilia’s brain. Mrs. Levkin was one of the strongest women Emilia had ever known, maybe even the strongest. Even with the extent of her imagination, it was hard to imagine how much Mrs. Levkin had to evolve to become the person she was today. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

  “I didn’t tell you this for sympathy,” she said simply. “The point is that not every relationship is perfect, and while things start out one way, they may not necessarily end there. People are always changing, but as long as you love each other, there isn’t any reason you can’t change together.

  “Maybe you should both stop trying so hard and just enjoy one another.” Mrs. Levkin laughed to herself. “One thing you two have in common is that you think too much.”

  Emilia shrugged. She had to admit the older woman had a point. “Maybe. Hopefully, when school starts again, I’ll be too busy to think.”

  Mrs. Levkin smiled widely, but looked behind her as if to make sure they were still alone. “And if a baby comes into the picture…”

  Emilia shook her head and pulled her hand away from Mrs. Levkin’s. “I don’t see Kasper warming up to that idea within the next decade or so.”

  “We have all seen how much can change within a year. Give it that at the least before you start to panic.”

  “You’re right.” Emilia smiled, but crossed her arms over herself, feeling defensive. After everything Mrs. Levkin had just shared with her, she knew she didn’t have any right to whine about being married to a great man who loved her. “I’m sorry for complaining.”

  Mrs. Levkin shrugged. “The two of you are my taste of motherhood. I take the bad with the good.”

  Mrs. Levkin stood up slowly, using her good leg as leverage for her bad one. Despite everything the older woman had revealed to her, Emilia knew that an opportunity like this would probably never come again. “I hate to sound nosy, but if I don’t ask the curiosity might literally kill me—”

  “I was only with my husband for six years,” she said with a smile. “After that I fell in love with Mr. Levkin and we ran away together. We were never technically married, but we lived together as man and wife for nearly twenty years.”

  “Wow, I thought I was romantic.”

  Mrs. Levkin nodded seriously. “I was very lucky.”

  “Yeah,” Emilia said, suddenly feeling hopeful. She parted the bedroom curtain to catch a glimmer of sundrenched icicles. “I guess I am too.”

  With her mood changed, Emilia decided not to go to Claudette’s party and gave her a quick call after Mrs. Levkin left, excusing her absence on the last minute invitation with promises to get together before they each returned to school. Once she was sure the manor was empty, Emilia called out for Kasper, unsure of where he was, but instantly concerned that all the keys to the cars were on the hooks, but his favorite coat was not. And given Kasper’s protectiveness of her, it seemed highly unlikely that he would go too far from the manor. Perhaps, she considered, he had taken one of the horses out for a ride, patrolling the property to make sure Cyrus wasn’t there.

  Laughing to herself, Emilia opened the hall closet and pulled on her riding boots. It was already dark, but the weather had been reasonable throughout the day, so she ventured the ice was minimal. She may not exactly have been considered an experienced rider, but if Kasper could ride in the dark she was determined to do so as well. She fed Tut before letting him out and took her wool peacoat from the end of staircase and headed outside. It was probably her last coat that didn’t smell like Tut or the horses, but there didn’t seem to be any sense in going back to switch it just to get Tut all worked up.

  Instead she trekked through the snow, both glad and annoyed to see most of it turned to mud rather than ice. With any luck, the winter would continue to have a minimal amount of snow, making sure that she and Kasper could visit each other on the weekends regularly. Wedging open the stable doors, Emilia shivered at the memory of President’s Day weekend the year before when a massive blizzard and bad timing kept them apart.

  Shaking off the thought, Emilia stomped off her boots and turned on the lights. It took a moment, but Nefertiti snorted in response to her gentle greeting and the promise of sugar cubes.

  “Hi to you too, girl.”

  The horse leaned her muzzle into Emilia’s hand gratefully. In return, Emilia gently scratched behind Nefertiti’s ears, taking in the attendance of all the horses. If all her hooved friends where there, then where was Kasper?

  ***

  He walked right up until sunset, ignoring the cold in his joints and the dampness in his boots. It energized him more than he had hoped, even though his fingers and toes tingled with numbness.

  Originally, Kasper had merely circled the manor, trying to figure out what bedroom Emilia had secluded herself in and trying to picture her in there. When that became too painful he moved on, counting the lights on the wreaths as they came to life in the dark. If someone had told him four years that he would have wreaths and Christmas trees and the like he would have accused them of insanity—then again, if they also said that he would have a beautiful, young wife who loved him he would have said the same thing.

  Naturally, Kasper knew it was asinine to argue about something like a New Year’s Eve celebration, especially when they hadn’t yet agreed upon what they would do about her schooling situation. Certainly, Kasper had considered simply joining her for her final semester. After taking a two month absence for his wedding and honeymoon it would be some time before he could—or at least should—take time off like that again.

  He already knew Emilia was going to complete the remainder of her clinical, with or without him. Still, he considered, maybe if he could find a bodyguard she liked, or obtain a dog that could protect her in any situation, it would be less stressful for him. It was a frightening situation to think of Emilia with a firearm, and entirely too late to enroll her in self-defense courses, though even if she had some kind of black-belt, Kasper doubted it would make him feel any better.

  Sighing, he sat on one of the stone benches submerged in the wooded concave of the property. Once sure none of his employees were around, Kasper removed his gloves and clenched his hands. Despite what the doctors had told him, and the before and after pictures, Kasper was pleasantly surprised by the results of hi
s two surgeries, and was bold enough to imagine what he would look like if he had gone through with the remaining ones.

  He moved his fingers until there was steady feeling in them again, still unaccustomed to the lack of cartilage between his smallest finger and ring finger. With the swelling down, his hand was already starting to retain a slightly more normal appearance.

  His face, of course, was still hideous. Regardless, there could be no denying that there was some improvement just from his new nose. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Kasper greedy for more. And if it were not for Emilia and his preemptive condition that would keep any respectable doctor away from him, Kasper would be in line for more.

  He had already considered that he could probably pay someone off. Kasper was hardly an expert in the medical field, but he was sure that given how much Emilia’s schooling was costing, the intense debt a young plastic surgeon could accumulate would make them willing. Not to mention how malpractice lawsuits could bankrupt even experienced surgeons. How much would Kasper have to pay for one or two of them to finish fixing his face? Would he even dare to trust any of them with his hands? Being ugly was one thing, yet it was entirely another to lose fingers or feeling in his hands—to be unable to play an instrument with the same quality or feel his bride’s flesh with true appreciation.

  No, Kasper decided. His hands were not worth the risk.

  At least one other surgery would need to be performed to complete his cheekbone—probably two if he was honest with himself. The repair of his ear was slightly more difficult, especially considering it was usually done within the early years of the defect. The reconstruction of his new ear would let him live without the prosthetic, and the mere thought of that alone was enough to excite him. Despite this, the work on his jaw had not even begun, and without aesthetics the oral surgeon would not consider dental implants for him…

  Overall it was his timing that had been at the heart of his burden. If technology had been at its peak five years ago when he was slightly younger and had nothing to lose he would not have hesitated. Yet now he did have something to lose, something far more important than he ever could have hoped for. And even if he put his medical needs until after she had begun her career, Kasper knew his selfishness would not be forgiven if he did not survive.

  Kasper was also concerned about what Emilia would want to do after graduating. Adding that to all of this baby nonsense only gave him a throbbing headache. He could not help but wonder if he were not a genetic half of himself if she would insist on having a child of his. Kasper gagged at the mere thought before resigning himself to better thoughts. It had taken him a long time to accept his love for Emilia Ward, and if he could learn to tolerate a mangy mutt for her sake, continue to spend the remainder of his life in his body, then perhaps he could also learn to deal with a sticky-fingered little brat as well.

  Especially if it would make her happy.

  Vaguely, Kasper wished there were some flowers available in the garden so he could bring them inside. Flowers were an acceptable form of apology, weren’t they? When he dismissed the thought, it also occurred to him that the poinsettias and wreaths she insisted on having would probably be in decay soon enough, and with the already falling pine needles of that silly tree, there was more than enough for the compost pile.

  Still, he had to admit, he enjoyed his first Christmas, and he was inclined to think of the holidays and events that would come in the future. He smiled to himself, feeling more eager to apologize than ever when he could see smell the smoke. He cursed outright and quickened his pace. Despite her many talents, Emilia had never been particular good at cooking, as he came closer it occurred to him that such an intense scent couldn’t be coming from the kitchen alone. Was she upset enough to bury herself in an extreme cleaning project like the fireplace?

  Unfortunately, that thought was obliterated by the sight of an inferno—a mirage he hoped was the result antibiotics and fruitcake. As if on a pogo-stick, his heart began violently thumping in his chest. Time seemed to slow down as he ran to the front of the manor, shouting inconsequential nonsense. And no matter how quickly he told his feet to move, it seemed like a small eternity until he reached the front yard to see the flames erupting from the foyer.

  Of course he continued to run the rest of the way to the door, calling out her name while his mind only briefly registered that Mrs. Levkin was no longer there, but Emilia’s car was. Still, instinctively he paused on his run to the house to search in her car, peering into the windows and loudly pounding his fist on the hood until the fear reminded him she was not there. Perhaps she was with Mrs. Levkin? Or had taken the dog out somewhere? Maybe, just maybe, he hoped, she had taken one his cars to her friend’s house—his mind dismissing the thought when he remembered how she disliked driving stick shift.

  With shaking hands he checked his cellular device. Other than several missed calls from the security company, there were no calls or messages from Emilia. Still, he attempted to call her, his panic only becoming worse when there was no response and he could see nothing but dark smoke through the windows. Calling out for her seemed redundant as the smoke alarms, routed into the security system, were screeching throughout the house. With any luck there would be reinforcements shortly.

  Though he tripped over himself and his legs felt impossibly thick, Kasper made his way back to the left side of the house, the smoke being the only thing from stopping him from grabbing the hot doorknob of the front door. Still, with a few good kicks to the service door, he managed to bar it loose enough to stick his head through, calling to Emilia through the smoke and erratic beeping of the smoke detectors. Coughing like a lifetime smoker, he held his breath and squatted down, trying to push himself further but unable to do so.

  “Emilia!”

  Once more, there was no response, and the only visible entity through the smoke was the raging flames quickly making their way from the hall. Despite his tall frame, Kasper weaseled himself through the basement door, grabbing a tea towel from the kitchen countertop and army crawling on the tile floor. Even this normally cool surface seemed hot to the touch, and the towel he was using to cover his nose and mouth was less than agreeable.

  Trying to see through the smoke proved as fruitless as calling out for Emilia. Every attempt to scream her name resulted in the sharp inhale of additional smoke, making his head swim and his lungs crinkle like paper in his chest. Despite all of this, the obvious was not lost on him. If Emilia was still in the house, then she could have been unconscious—she could have been dead already.

  Chapter 13

  He squirmed around the kitchen island, unable to reach the fire extinguisher under the sink because of the impending flames from all sides of him. While the glow of red and orange swelled around him, Kasper’s lungs burned, flaring with each inhale and exhale his measly body attempted. He knew he should have made himself as small as possible, but since leaving the kitchen was out of the question, Kasper stood up and on the tips of his toes, relief flooding him when he realized the fire had not yet climbed the staircase. If Emilia was still in the house, it was entirely possible that she had found another way to get out of the smoldering house.

  Kasper doubled back around, stumbling as the dizziness overwhelmed him. Stars clouded his eyes as he crawled through the busted door to the outside. Once outside though, the oxygen available wasn’t sufficient enough. If he breathed all the air in the world it would never be enough. Damn those lungs of his! If he had only held his breath for a bit longer!

  Cold seeped through the fabric of his trousers when he collapsed to the ground. Coughing and swearing still, the snow he rubbed in his eyes did little if anything to relieve the burning in his eyes and the pain of his singed face.

  Before he could stop them, a set of soot clad arms pulled him away, speaking in a code of numbers through a gas mask. Though he still struggled to remain conscious, Kasper was aware of the ghastly red and yellow trucks parked in his yard, their loud blue and red sirens ringing in
the air. He tried to curse, to protest, but his vocal cords stung as if they had been pricked by thorns and his lungs were no longer capable of retaining air by themselves.

  Hands wearing yellow rubber gloves put an oxygen mask on him. A dozen voices talked all at once, shouting and relaying numbers and directions at each other. They seemed to be working hurriedly, but just what were these people doing? Kasper’s vision was cloudy at best, but he could still see no signs of Emilia. Didn’t they know she was more important on a bad day than he could be on a good day? Why did he not want her going to that party again? Something about wanting to keep her safe? Fear for her well-being? Watching men in heavy Kevlar suits roll out black and yellow hoses, it occurred to Kasper how asinine his protectiveness had been when she was not even safe in her own home.

  “My wife,” he managed to croak. Clearly the words were too distorted to be heard. What if her only way out of the house had been to jump from a top floor? What if she was lying broken and bleeding in the backyard and these idiots were too stupid to look for her?

  People he guessed to be paramedics held clipboards and changed the latex gloves on their hands, easily ignoring how Kasper pulled at them—a child’s attempt for attention. He assumed they were asking him questions because he could see their mouths moving, but he could not hear the words, hardly felt the stethoscope on his chest or the blanket draped over his shoulders. Still, they were focusing on him? Working to put out the fire? What kind of imbeciles were these people? His mind screamed at him, yelled and roared. If his heart had legs it would have kicked at him.