My Only One. Eileen Nauman
wash across the small, neatly kept space. Everything was made of metal, except for the curtain beside her bed. Coughing violently, she pressed her fingers to her raw throat. It was then that she became aware that someone was sitting near her bedside. Abby’s eyes widened enormously and her heart pounded unevenly. A man in an unfamiliar uniform was sitting quietly observing her. His eyes held exhaustion and interest in them as he regarded her with a slight, tentative smile. He reached out and turned on a small lamp beside the bed.
“Dr. Abby Fielding?”
She blinked and struggled into a sitting position, feeling dizzy. “Y-Yes?”
“I’m Second Captain Aleksandr Rostov. I want to welcome you aboard the Udaloy, a Soviet naval destroyer. Please don’t look so frightened. You are our guest. A friend.”
Abby stared at him, his words slowly sinking into her spongy mind. “You…” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, “…you rescued me out there. My God, I thought I was going to die.”
Alec slowly rose, not wanting to cause more fear than what was presently mirrored in her lovely blue eyes. “You came very close to death, Doctor.” He smiled warmly, trying to disarm her wariness. Her hair lay in wild abandon around her shoulders. She needed to shower to wash the stiff salt brine out of those copper-colored tresses. Placing his hands against the steel tubing around her bed, he added, “Your defiance, your fight, saved you from drowning.”
Suddenly emotional because his voice was gentle with understanding, Abby clung to his dark brown gaze. “My defiance got me into a collision with that Japanese catcher. I thought it would turn aside like it had in previous days, but it didn’t.” She touched her throat, the raw feeling uncomfortable. “You saved my life. I was going down for the count.” Quickly wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes, she asked, “What about the Argonaut crew, Captain? Are they okay?”
“We’ve got the Argonaut in tow behind us. Captain Stratman and the two crew members are staying on board with a dewatering pump we’ve loaned them. The trawler sustained some hull damage and with our help, they have the leak under control. They’re fine. You were the only one who was injured.” When he saw her alarm turn to relief, he added, “We’re taking you to your Coast Guard base in the Kodiak Islands for repairs. Once we reach the U.S. twelve-mile limit, a Coast Guard cutter will take tow of your trawler. At that time, we’ll transfer you to the cutter, too.”
“Good….” Abby whispered. “And my whales? That pod of humpback whales? Did they get away?”
“There is a happy ending for everyone except the Japanese whaling fleet, who came up with no catch. Your whales are safe.”
Relief cascaded through Abby. When she opened her eyes, she melted beneath his interested inspection of her. “I’m on board a Soviet ship?”
“Yes. As our guest,” Alec stressed.
Suddenly nervous in Alec’s presence, Abby nodded. “Thank you so much.” She gripped his hand that was resting on the tubing. It was a strong, powerful hand belonging to a man who obviously didn’t sit behind a desk any more than necessary. There was an incredible sense of strength about the officer, and yet he was treating her as if she were a frightened child, with gentleness and understanding.
Alec didn’t move, the coolness of Abby’s fingertips brushing the back of his hand. Her touch had been fleeting. Pulverizing. His heartbeat soared. “Are all Americans like you?” he asked as she removed her hand.
“Like what? Willing to risk their lives for whales?”
His mouth curved into a grin. “Perhaps that also. No, you reached out and touched me. Is that an American thing to do?”
With a little laugh, Abby said, “I’m afraid so.” She hesitated. “I should amend that answer. Some of us don’t let decorum stand in our way of reaching out and touching a person. Although,” she said wryly, “it’s more of a western custom than an eastern one.”
Cocking his head, Alec absorbed her breathy laughter. Her blue eyes no longer looked dazed. Instead, he discovered gold highlights of amusement in them. “I’ve never met an American before. You must first forgive me for the endless questions I will ask you. I’m the navigation officer on board, but I studied communications, so my curiosity comes from a personal as well as professional level.”
Abby gasped. “You’re a public-relations officer?”
He was shocked by how easily she showed emotion, but oddly, Alec enjoyed the unexpected discovery. “Not exactly.”
“Still, you have the background. Then you can help me!”
For the first time in a long time, Alec laughed—fully and deeply. “I doubt many could refuse you, Dr. Fielding.”
“Please call me Abby. I can’t stand formality.”
“I’ve already gotten that impression. Then you may call me Alec, if you choose.”
He had a wonderful name, Abby thought. She liked the dancing highlights in his eyes and his ability to parry her lightning-quick exchanges. “I’d better slow down,” she said more to herself than him. “It’s my red hair. It’s always getting me into trouble.” Touching her cheeks, she smiled up at him. “I’d better finish my explanation about Americans being so open and friendly. I’ve found that people born in the western part of the country are far more friendly and trusting than those born in the east. I was born in La Jolla, California, and where I was raised, it was the thing to do.”
“I see. So, reaching out and touching me was a normal thing to do, even though I’m a stranger?”
She made a face. “Well…not every stranger. You have a trusting face. Besides, you saved my life. That should merit a hug of gratitude, too.”
For an instant, Alec wanted to suggest something far more intimate. The idea shocked even him, for he had been raised in a very strict, disciplined environment. “I think I like these western people from America,” he teased. “Before we go further, how do you feel? Are you hungry?”
Excited about Alec and his friendliness, Abby had forgotten about her own condition. She stopped, took internal stock of herself, and then said, “I’m starving, and I feel fine, except for a sore throat.”
“You swallowed a lot of seawater.” She had a lovely, long neck, and he ached to reach out and lightly trail his fingers along its length.
Abby said nothing as the experience and the fear came back to her. “I—I almost died.”
“Yes,” Alec whispered. “A terrible loss if that had happened.”
Struck by the emotion in his husky voice, Abby studied his closed, unreadable face. Alec couldn’t disguise the feeling in his voice, however, and she allowed his comment to pass without reaction. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Is there any water around? I’m dying of thirst.”
“Of course.” Alec busied himself getting her a glass of water from the examination room next door. She had suddenly paled when she realized she had almost died. Dr. Ryback had asked Alec to remain with Abby, the physician hadn’t wanted her to wake up alone in a strange place. Alec had willingly volunteered and had gotten the choice assignment mainly because he was one of the few men on board who spoke fluent English. Picking up the phone attached to the bulkhead of the examination room, he called mess. Letting the chief steward know that he wasn’t going to dine with the other officers as usual, he then ordered two trays of food to be brought to the dispensary.
He returned to Abby’s bedside and handed her the large glass of water. She drank the entire contents. Alec motioned to a small room. “There is a shower in there. I have food being prepared and brought to us. Perhaps you would like to clean up before you eat?”
Abby leapt at his idea. “Yes, I’d love to, thank you.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked down at the coarse white gown she wore. “I smell awful!”
Unable to stop the