She loved him. She’d started loving him when he’d tracked her down and scared the life out of her on the train, and when he had bought her a new dress and her reflection had sparkled in his eyes. Most of all when she’d unlocked her secrets and seen his compassion. She wanted to love him more, know him more. He’d abandoned his plans for revenge, and instead had prayed. Vicktor had so much potential to be a man of God. She ached to watch the Almighty take over Vicktor’s life and change it.
That would be loads of fun across the ocean.
She leaned her forehead on the Plexiglas window. The sun glinted brilliantly across an endless landscape of fluff. Below the mantel, these same clouds wept upon her Russia.
Gracie reached down, slid the laptop computer from under her seat and plopped it on the seat beside her. Overwhelmed with regret, she rubbed the case with her palm. “I’m sorry, Dr. Willie.” His life work lay in cinders in Khabarovsk Airport. Her eyes burned at the injustice. So many lives sacrificed for nothing.
She wondered if her office really had been trying to contact her, or if Yuri had been simply trying to oust her from Vicktor’s protection that day at the lighthouse restaurant. Lowering her tray, she hoisted the computer onto it and grabbed the air link hookup.
She unzipped the leather case and opened it.
A thick sheaf of papers had been wadded inside. Clipped to them was a small note.
Gracie, I hope these turn out to be worth it. I know they brought me to you—and you to me. Remember me when you are drinking coffee in Duluth. I love you. Vicktor.
Gracie unclipped the note and clutched it to her chest. Then she peered at the title page of the stack of A-4 paper: “Scientific Explorations and Experiment Results of Trichinosis Virus Vaccination by William Young, M.D.”
Trust me, Gracie
. Vicktor’s voice, with the slight accent that curled her toes and sent ripples down her spine, reverberated through her mind.
Gracie closed her eyes.
Hope dies last.
She pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering the sweet taste of Vicktor’s kiss, promising, loving. She would pray and wait, just as she had for Vicktor’s salvation.
Oh, God, thank You. Thank You for adopting Vicktor into the family.
Her eyes fluttered open. She had finally led someone to Christ. God had used her for the work of Vicktor’s salvation.
The thought made her tingle. So maybe she wasn’t a joke. Maybe, in fact, it was more about her needing God and God doing His thing in amazing ways. Using the darkest moments to bring light, and joy, and salvation.
Simply because they’d needed Him.
“The poor will eat and be satisfied. They who seek the Lord will praise Him—may your hearts live forever.”
So, maybe this wasn’t goodbye. Maybe, in fact, God was just getting started.
She leaned back, closed her eyes and let herself rest.
“Okay, Captain, you’re free to unbuckle.” The flight attendant freed herself from the jump seat, leaving Vicktor to wrestle himself out of the restraining harness. He got to his feet and peeked through the blue curtain separating the seats near the cockpit from first class and coach. “I don’t see her.”
Humor played on the flight attendant’s face. “Seven-A, sir.”
Standing tall, Vicktor smoothed his still-damp suit coat and entered the compartment.
Gracie sat slumped in her seat, her eyes closed, clutching Dr. Young’s notes. He smiled. So she’d found them. While Gracie had waited in his office at FSB HQ, he’d emptied the envelope, made a copy of the first page, then tucked the real notes in with the computer, just in case.
Leaning over, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss?”
“Yes?” She didn’t open her eyes.
“Can I sit with you?”
Slowly, she looked at him. Now,
that
was the smile he’d been hoping to find.
“You see, I’m with the KGB and I’ve been searching all over for you.”
This time, she didn’t kick him.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5764-5
IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING
Copyright © 2005 by Susan May Warren
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