Chapter 31: Off the Mountain
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Once inside the jeep, they settled into their seats, securely latching their seat belts and started the engine, smiling when it turned over without a problem. "That's a good sign," Aleksei quipped, smiling as he adjusted the heater to both warm their feet and defrost the windshield.
"What is?"
"Engine turned over on the first try."
"Were you worried it wouldn't?"
"Not really. But it wouldn't have been a very positive sign of things to come if I'd had to get jump started," Aleksei rationalized.
"I suppose you're right," Jordan agreed. "But since it did, we're home free. Right?"
"Ask me when we pass the four-thousand foot elevation sign," Aleksei stated, sliding the gearshift into drive and pulling slowly out of the parking lot.
With a final glance through the swirling snow, Jordan watched the lights of the diner fade away and returned her eyes to the barely discernible road they traveled. "I don't think I like this. You can't see anything." She muttered, straining to see through the thick flakes that twirled and danced through the air, blanketing the narrow road they cautiously traveled.
"That's why I'm driving. I see better than you do," Aleksei teased, trying to lighten the mood and at the same time keep himself alert to any possible dangers ahead. Icy roads and steep mountain grades didn't make for a comfortable, stress-free road-trip.
"Did we wait too long to leave? We should have left first thing this morning, shouldn't have we?" Jordan questioned; her eyes widening as a sudden gust of wind broadsided the jeep, making it rock slightly. "Aleksei..." she gasped, her hand sliding through the handhold above the window.
Aleksei held the jeep steady, applying light pressure to the gas pedal, maintaining their speed and direction, seemingly without effort or anxiety. Inside, he'd held his breath, a thin stream of sweat sliding down his backbone when the wind had rocked them, when he'd seen the sharp light of fear enter Jordan's eyes. "It's okay. We knew it was going to be windy. Officer Michaels had said to expect it."
"He said windy, not hurricane force," Jordan complained.
"Can't be hurricane force winds - no oceans around here," Aleksei joked, focusing on the miserable visibility and slick road surface, wishing he were anywhere but in this storm and actually praying, which he didn't believe was worthwhile, they make it down the mountain in one piece as quickly as possible.
"Don't quibble with me, Rocmanov. I don't care if hurricane's come in off the ocean. I just want off this damn mountain."
"I know you do. It just so happens, it's high on my priority list, too. We'll make it, but it's not going to happen in ten minutes."
"How long do you think it will take?" Jordan asked, frowning. Was the snow getting heavier?
"I honestly don't know. Not anytime soon, I'd say. It looks like the snow's coming down harder. Have you seen any elevation markers?"
"I can't see ten feet in front of us and you expect me to find you an elevation marker? What are you, nuts?"
Aleksei flexed his tense fingers, one hand at a time, refusing to fully release the steering wheel. They might only be going twenty-two miles an hour, but with road conditions and visibility this bad, he wasn't going to risk losing control. Sailing off the side of a mountain wasn't his idea of a good time. He'd learned that lesson the hard way when he'd broken his leg mountain climbing. He wasn't about to endanger Jordan with such carelessness. Then again, thinking about his accident, his stupidity had brought them together and here they were, creeping down a mountain during the worst snowstorm to hit in over a hundred years and he couldn't remember ever being happier. Talk about the weirdness of life. "Tell you what, Jamison. Your job will be to find us music for our next program. There's a case of CD's Dee left for us."
"We leave for the Olympics in less than a month and Dee's already thinking about our next program?" Jordan asked in disbelief.
"They're under your seat. It will give you something to do besides worry about the weather," Aleksei encouraged, smiling when she finally reached for the case beneath her.
"I tell you, I'm going to find myself a new coach. That woman's gone over the line this time. We're on vacation and she sends a whole caseload of CD's for us to listen to so we can pick our next music? What is wrong with her?" Jordan lifted the list from the case and turned the map-light over her head on. "You know, Aleksei. This is just a gesture in futility? She's already decided on the next piece. She's only doing this to make us think we're part of the process."
"If it makes you feel any better, I put my two cents in as far as voting for my choice," Aleksei offered.
"What did she say?"
"What else? That I had good taste and she could live with my selection," Aleksei bragged.
Jordan choked out a laugh. "Right. And how many promises to skate to her music of choice did you commit us to?"
"Unless you have no objections to skating with me for the next seventy-eight years, don't ask."
"That long, huh?" Jordan asked, heaving a huge, dramatic sigh. "I hate to say this, Rocmanov, but, you got screwed on that trade."
"Maybe, but I don't see it that way. The idea of spending the next lifetime with you doesn't seem half bad," Aleksei answered quietly, his knuckles running a soft caress down her cheeks, his eyes saying more than words could in the lifetime he looked forward to with her.
Jordan grabbed his hand, placing a soft kiss into his palm and smiled in complete content. "So, Rocmanov. Which piece of music have you sold our souls to Dee for?" She asked, scanning down the list in the case of CD's.
"There were two I couldn't decide between. I figured you, in all your infinite wisdom and experience, should make the final decision. They're marked with an asterisk," he nodded toward the list she held.
"East of Eden and The Prayer? How am I supposed to decide between the two? You know how much I love both these pieces of music. Why can't we do them both?"
"Who says we can't? I'm sure if we promise Dee another hundred years of servitude, she'll be happy to choreograph them for us," Aleksei suggested, smiling into Jordan's green eyes, brightly-lit emeralds full of fire, and passion, and mischief.
"I'm up for it, if you are," Jordan promised, slipping the CD containing the title song from East of Eden into the car's CD player.
The music started softly, slowly filling the interior of the jeep with sedate, wistful strains of music that brought visions of floating and drifting through warm, beautiful clouds in a summer sky to mind. Jordan sighed, her eyes softening as the beautiful music stole into her soul, wrapping her in peace and warmth; a serene smile graced her full lips. "Oh, Aleksei, you're right. This music is definitely worth years of servitude and groveling."
"I thought you'd agree. I'm glad I didn't indenture the both of us for a piece of music you hated," he replied gently, his smile widening as he watched her slide further into the music's magical spell. The thought he'd never tire of looking at her flashed across his mind, reaffirming what he already knew - he loved her. Somewhere along the line he'd fallen so far in love with her that he had a better chance of drowning in the desert than he had of escaping what he'd always believed was the end of one's freedom. She had taught him, you could still be half of a whole and yet stand alone, when, and if, you needed to. Loving someone didn't mean you couldn't live without them, it simply meant, you didn't want to. Suddenly it wasn't so terrifying to admit that he loved this wisp of a woman two feet away, bundled in a winter coat that hid all the glory that was hers alone. A beautiful, petite, spitfire that spelled things out clearly, didn't waste words and didn't beat around the bush to spare feelings. Life was too short to spend it constantly worrying about hurting inflated egos, and sugar-coating the world - she'd long ago lost her rose colored glasses and saw things perfectly clearly.
"I love you, Jordan," Aleksei said softly.
Jordan turned her head to look at him, her eyes softly shining, "I know, Rocmanov. And the scariest part, is loving you back. It seems everyone I've ever loved has left me, one way or another."
"That won't happen with me - with us."
"How can you be so sure?" Jordan asked wistfully. "The best I can hope for is just that - I can hope you won't leave. But even hoping doesn't make it a given."
"I can swear to you there is no power on this earth that can, or will, make me leave you," Aleksei promised, reaching to grasp her hand and squeezing it to reaffirm his commitment. "I swear, Jordan. You are stuck with me until I'm too old to lace up your skates."
"You never lace up my skates," Jordan sniffed, wiping away tears of happiness that threatened to slip from her forest colored eyes.
"Then I guess you'll have to teach me how to," Aleksei teased, "When you're pregnant and you can't see your toes over your tummy, you'll need someone to lace your boots," he ended, the image he suggested clear in his mind and surprisingly enough, it made him even happier.
Jordan raised her eyebrows, "Pregnant and skating. That's certainly not a picture I would have envisioned you conjuring up. What's up, Rocmanov? Suddenly feeling your age?"
"No. Suddenly clear on the direction I want my life to take and what I want out of it. And unfortunately for you, Jamison, you're smack dab in the middle of it. Have you got the energy to keep up with me?"
"Keep up with you? Old man, if it wasn't for me you'd be looking for another bottle of hair color to get rid of your gray!" Jordan countered, running her hand through his thick curls, not a sign of gray to be seen.
"Wrong, Jamison. You're the cause of any gray hairs you may find and I'm damn proud to show them off. I've earned every last one of them having to deal with your temper tantrums, your fits of primadonnaness..."
"Is that a real word?" Jordan quipped.
"Close enough. Your smart-ass attitude..."
"My nice ass," Jordan corrected, smiling at the light that fired in Aleksei's ebony eyes when he tossed her a heated glance.
"Yeah, your very nice ass, too," he agreed. Where was I?" he asked with a wide smile.
"Does it matter? I get your point," Jordan conceded.
Aleksei's smile widened. "Good, as long as we've determined who's in charge here."
Jordan's eyebrows rose yet again. "I never relinquished control of myself over into your very capable arms - hands." Unable to resist, she stroked a hand over Aleksei's shoulder and down his muscular arm. Even through the thick coat his muscles were plainly apparent. "We're partners, friends, antagonists, confidants..."
"Lovers," Aleksei added, his voice deep and warm.
"Lovers," she agreed. "sounding-boards, help-mates... What am I forgetting?"
"I think I get the gist. We're everything to each other."
"Right. Can you live with that, Rocmanov?" Jordan asked.
Aleksei frowned, a crease forming between his eyes before he finally answered her. "I can't believe I didn't see it before, but now that I think about it, I'm sure that's how my life has been for the last three years. You mean to tell me, we've been a pair for over three years and I'm only just now reaping the benefits of said partnership. Damn, Whittaker's slipping. All this time and all I heard from him was, don't touch her, hands off, you're skating partners - period. I need to straighten him out or get myself a new coach."
"Don't pick on him. He was defending my honor."
"You did just fine defending your own honor. Believe me, you made the boundaries quite clear regarding when and how you were to be touched."
"It wasn't meant to torture and torment you."
"Maybe not, but it did just the same."
"Look at it as foreplay," Jordan suggested, blushing at Aleksei's burning gaze as it wandered up and down her body, his gaze returning to meet hers, his message clear, he wanted nothing more than to devour her, on the spot if possible.
"I know all about foreplay, sweetheart, and let me tell you, you sent me up in flames more times than I care to think about, let alone name. You could count the number of hot showers I've taken in the last three years on one hand!" His voice was dangerously soft - passionately heavy.
"I'm sorry," Jordan apologized on a whisper, secretly pleased by his admission.
"Don't be. It was worth the wait!" Aleksei responded huskily, his hand reaching for hers and drawing it to his mouth, his lips placing a soft kiss in her palm. "I'll love you forever, Jordan," he promised quietly, his gaze switching from the snow and ice covered road to her face and back again.
"I love you, too," Jordan whispered, running her knuckles against his strong jaw, the beginning roughness of his beard sending tingles up her arm, the lingering scent of his after-shave drawing her nearer, leading her to lean over and kiss the spot her fingers had just grazed. "I love the way you feel."
"The feeling's mutual and when we get off the mountain, you're going to have to remind me of how you feel. It's been too long since I held you in my arms."
Jordan glanced at her watch - two fifty-three in the afternoon. "It's only been a few hours, Rocmanov. How quickly they forget," she sighed dramatically.
"Believe me, Jordan, I never forget how you feel - how you taste - I just happen to like frequent reminders," he explained, suddenly leaning forward toward the windshield, straining to see through the ever-thickening snowfall that the windshield wipers never seemed to quite keep up with.
Jordan was busy changing CD's, slipping Aleksei's other choice into the player and reaching to push the play button. Her finger slipped to press the repeat button when she heard Aleksei's damning curse and looked up to see the snowplow sliding sideways toward them, blocking both lanes on the narrow mountain road.
Text Copyright © 2000 by Constance E. Moynihan
