Loving the Right Brother

Brody was about to deny it, then stopped to reconsider. “Yeah, I guess maybe it is. Surviving and thriving against the odds is an accomplishment to be proud of.”

Something in the way he said it caught her attention. “Are you talking about the town, or yourself?”

“Actually,” Brody admitted, “I was thinking about you.”

He knew she was right, that they had to get going, but he was in no hurry to leave. Once they were outside, he fully intended to guide Irena to her grandfather’s house. It was already getting dark—they were in that half of the year where, very quickly, there would be a minimum of light available to them—and even natives had been known to lose their way in a storm. And, unless he missed his guess, the sky looked as if it was ready to blanket the area with snow.

But once he was in his car and she in hers, they couldn’t talk anymore, and he really enjoyed talking to her. He savored it now, especially since he had no idea when the next opportunity might arise. And besides, before he knew it, she’d be gone again.

He leaned his hand against the wall above her head, unconsciously creating a small alcove for them. “We all expected you to come back, you know.” Hoped, really, he added silently. “At first, from college and then after you graduated. But you didn’t.”

She shrugged, looking away. “Things didn’t work out that way.” And then she looked back up at him. “You went away to college, too,” she remembered.

He’d thought that he could forget her if he was busy enough. He was wrong. “Yeah, but I came back.”

“You had no reason not to.” She remembered that he had been one of the few who had no desire to escape Hades. “You weren’t trying to forget something.”

“Maybe I was, in my own way.”

The moment the words were out, he regretted them. He had no idea what made him say that. He kept his feeling to himself all this time, not saying a word to anyone, although he suspected that Ryan had known.

It wasn’t typical of his brother not to bring it up, not to tease him. Sensitivity had never been Ryan’s strong suit, but in this one instance, somehow his brother had known enough to leave the subject, his feelings for Irena, alone.

Except for that one time.

It was the day before he took his own life. Ryan had been oddly forthright and talkative that afternoon, going over a litany of the mistakes he’d made over the years. He remembered that Irena had appeared twice on his brother’s list. Once because he regretted treating her so badly and the second time because, Ryan had told him, he realized that he, Brody, was the one who actually deserved to have her.

“Irena deserved someone better than me, and you deserved someone like her,” Ryan had concluded that day, being unusually serious. “If it hadn’t been for me getting in the way, who knows? Maybe the two of you might have gotten married. Or at least had a lot of fun together.” Ryan had winked then and chuckled. He’d wound up having a coughing fit.

“You’re babbling now,” he’d remembered telling his brother, doing his best to get Ryan to bed so that he could sleep it off. Four o’clock in the afternoon and Ryan was already drunk out of his mind.

“Maybe,” Ryan had allowed, falling into bed like a child-worn rag doll. “But I’m babbling the truth.” Ryan had grabbed the front of his shirt, raising himself off the bed for a moment as he underscored his point. “I know you love her. It’s there in your eyes.”

He’d very gently disengaged Ryan’s fingers from his shirt and put him back down again. “You’re hallucinating, Ryan,” he’d said with feeling.

“No, I’m not,” Ryan insisted. “I’ve always known it. Maybe that was even the reason I went after her,” he’d admitted, not because he was proud of himself, but because, Brody now realized, his brother had needed to confess the deed. “Because I wanted to take what you wanted. I’m sorry, Brody, I’m sorry.” He began to cry then. “I screwed up for all of us.”

It had taken him a while to calm Ryan down again. As for the apology, at the time he’d chalked up the words as the ramblings of an alcoholic. He’d heard enough so-called confessions and protestations of regret from both his father and his brother to know that there would be no memory of this in the morning.

But instead, this time there was no Ryan in the morning.

It was the last conversation they’d had.

“What?” Irena asked now, pressing him for an answer. “What were you trying to forget?”

Brody shook his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to come off sounding so melodramatic.” He glanced out the front window again. It was looking worse by the minute. “If we don’t leave now, we’re going to wind up getting snowed in here,” he warned again. “Without any working phone lines, we’ll be stranded.”

“My grandfather would find us,” she assured him with a fond smile. “He has this uncanny instinct when it comes to family. But,” she agreed, lifting up the hood of her parka, “there’s no reason to put it to the test. You’re right, let’s go.”

Brody closed the door behind him as he followed her out. He didn’t bother locking it. Everything worth stealing had just walked out ahead of him.

Chapter Four

“You are really being here, Little One! It is so wonderful to be seeing you!”

The moment Yuri Yovich threw open his front door and saw who was standing on his doorstep, joy exploded all over his sun-weathered face. The rugged ex-miner looked at least a full decade younger than his seventy-nine years.

He gleefully swept his granddaughter into a fierce, warm embrace as, momentarily lapsing into Russian, he offered up several words of thanksgiving that she had arrived safely.

Creating a little space between them, he anointed first her left cheek, then her right in a traditional, exuberant greeting.

“I am so sorry that this is not being a happier occasion for you,” he confessed, pulling her to him once more. “I did not think you are coming until later. Why for you did not call me?” he asked, his accent thickening in the wake of his excitement at her arrival. “I would have coming to get you.”

Looking over her head, Yuri realized that his granddaughter was not alone. One arm around Irena, he motioned Brody in with the other. “Ah, Brody, thank you for bringing her to me.” He quickly closed the door to keep out the cold.

Brody smiled as he shook his head. Yuri should know better, he thought, placing her suitcase on the floor. “No one ‘brings’ Irena, Yuri. She drove herself here. I just followed to make sure she got here safely.”

Yuri turned toward Irena, confused. Had she driven from the Anchorage airport? “You are driving? With a car? How is this possible?”

Very few vehicles could make, or even attempt to make, the trip from Anchorage to Hades this time of year. September was the beginning of the six-month period that, before Shayne Kerrigan had bought a plane, the citizens of Hades found themselves completely cut off from the rest of the world.

“June flew me in, and she insisted that I use her Jeep,” Irena explained. “I offered to rent it, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

Yuri nodded with feeling, his shaggy gray hair swaying. “Ah, now I am understanding. June, she is a good girl.” Beaming, he framed Irena’s face with his massive hands. “Let me looking at you.” Joy vibrated in every word he uttered. “It is being much too long, Little One.”

“Yes, it has,” she agreed. She’d forgotten how much she loved this bear of a man with his gentle touch and flowing mane. “You and Ursula should come and visit me more often.”

“Ahh,” he made a little noise as he waved his hand at the suggestion. “I am not liking all that city noise. Better that you are here. How is your mother? Well, I am hoping.”

“She’s very well,” Irena assured him. “And very much in love.”

“Love is good,” he said with feeling, again nodding his head. The pronouncement led him to think of the larger than life woman he had finally talked into marrying him. Thoughts of Ursula always made him smile. “Ursula will be so happy to be seeing you.” And that led him to yet another thought. “Oh,” he said as if suddenly startled.

“Oh?” Irena echoed, both amused and curious. Glancing at Brody, she saw him raise his shoulders, letting her know that he had no clue why the older man looked as if he’d just become aware of something.

“I am needing to leave. I must picking up my bride from where she is working.” Yuri went to the coatrack and removed his parka. “I am telling her she should stop, but she is refusing.” He lowered his voice, as if to share a secret. “She likes being the post person.” Shoving his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, he sighed dramatically. But it was obvious that he wasn’t really upset about the situation. “Ursula is doing what she is wanting to do.” Pulling a colorful scarf out of his pocket, he draped it over his neck. “I will be coming right back,” he promised.

Yuri paused to peer out the front window. “The snow, it is stopping. You bring me good luck,” he announced, kissing Irena on both cheeks again. And then he turned to Brody. “You will staying to keep her company until I be back?”

She didn’t want Brody to be put on the spot. “Grandpa, I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No babysitter. Friend,” Yuri answered innocently. He glanced at Brody for confirmation. “And everyone is needing friend, yes?”

“Yes.” She laughed. Irena tucked the ends of her grandfather’s scarf into his jacket and then pulled up the zipper for him. “Be careful.”

“Always,” he said solemnly, kissing her forehead. And then, just as he was about to leave, he tossed off, “And when I coming back, we go.”

Surprised, Irena caught his arm to stop him. “Go? Go where?”