Whispers on the Ice (19 page)

“I’d say about two-hundred feet lower than we were five minutes ago,” Jordan guessed, pushing the cloth firmly against his head and looking for something she could wrap around his head to hold the cloth in place.

Both of them jerked in surprise when the glove-box door suddenly dropped open, an ace bandage clearly visible in the small compartment.

“That’ll work,” Jordan stated, reaching for the bandage and carefully, but firmly, wrapping the bandage around his head, and holding the sweatshirt snugly against the wound. “See, even from miles away, Dee and Whittaker are taking care of us,” Jordan stated.

“I hope you enjoyed your time off. I have the feeling Dee and Whittaker won’t let us out of their sights after this fiasco.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Aleksei. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. That’s why they call it an accident.”

“Be that as it may, neither one of them will let me forget this screw-up for a long, long time.”

“It’s not your
screw-up
, Aleksei. It’s just one of those stupid, senseless things that we’ll spend years trying to figure out. Personally, I don’t think it’s worth worrying about right this second,” Jordan suggested, awkwardly wrapping the ace bandage around Aleksei’s head to hold the sweatshirt in place.

“Could you get a signal on the cell phone?” Aleksei asked tiredly.

Jordan looked quickly about the scattered mess that covered the back seat. “I don’t see it. Any idea where it might be?” she asked worriedly.

Aleksei shook his head, gritting his teeth against the pain the movement caused. “It could be anywhere on the mountain. We should have left earlier,” Aleksei noted, his breathing growing shallow and hoarse.

“There was no way to know the storm would be this bad.”

“We should have paid closer attention to the weather reports.”

“What, and be the only people on the planet to believe those morons? Statistically, how often are those guys right? They’re lucky if they’re right even fifty percent of the time. I bet if their salaries were based on their forecasts being correct, they’d try a whole lot harder to get it right.”

“You’re jabbering, Jordan,” Aleksei muttered, his voice slightly slurred, groaning in pain when he tried to push himself farther up into the seat in an attempt to ease the pain in his lower back and stop the tingle he was beginning to feel creep up his legs.

“Sorry, just trying to keep your mind off our minor dilemma.”

“If this is a
minor
dilemma, I’d hate to see your version of a major one,” Aleksei slurred. His breath caught, as a fit of coughing brought him upright in his seat, a growl of pain escaping into the cold air as his back arched rigidly, his right hand pressing hard into his right side.

Jordan’s cry of fear blended with Aleksei’s sound of pain. Gently she cradled his face in her hands, ignoring the pain in her left wrist as she cooed words of comfort and love, and promises the pain would ease. “Look at me, Aleksei. Look at me. Focus on my eyes, sweetheart. Listen to my voice, love. Relax—relax and breathe. In through the nose—out through the mouth. Remember? Breath through the pain. Focus on breathing. Push the pain away—it’s someone else’s.” Jordan repeated over and over—a litany for them both.

Slowly Aleksei’s pain eased, his body relaxing as he settled into the car seat, sweat covering his face and running a line down the center of his chest to disappear beneath his shirt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his ebony eyes glassy.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“You won’t get your Gold medal,” Aleksei wheezed, struggling to breathe.

“We’ll get it next time!” she stated softly, her eyes shiny with unshed tears, her throat thickening with emotion as she watched him struggle to control his increasing pain, and felt an unearthly calm begin to pull him from her and toward death’s approaching hands.

Aleksei watched her silently, unsure how to say the words out loud. He knew there wouldn’t be a next time—at least for him—but how could he explain to her that it was okay his time was over. That he felt he’d lived more in the last three years he’d been with her than he had before they’d been thrown together. That the years before her he’d been adrift, alone and floundering, looking for a safe harbor, that he’d found that, and more, in her, and he would never be able to thank her enough for her gift of unconditional, unrestrained love, humor, strength, loyalty and devotion. “How do I begin to thank you for all you’ve given me?” he whispered.

Jordan’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she sought to control it’s trembling, swiping away the tears that escaped her gleaming emerald eyes and slowly traced down her cheeks. “How about I give you the next seventy-five years to try?” she choked out hopefully.

“Seventy-five years doesn’t sound like such a long time. Can I get an extension after that?” Aleksei asked quietly, his voice growing weaker.

“As many as you like,” she whispered.

“Good. But you’re liable to be stuck with me forever.”

“I’ll manage. I’m very accommodating.”

Aleksei’s smile was soft, content, despite his snort of disbelief. “You never said which music you preferred,” he stated, the music finally penetrating his tired mind.

Jordan watched Aleksei closely, could feel his strength draining, his life force fading slowly and felt helpless to do anything. All that was left for her to do was be with him and share her love, her warmth, and her strength. “If you don’t mind, I think this one’s my favorite,” she answered, listening as Celine Dion’s and Andrea Bocelli’s voices blended perfectly in
The Prayer
.

Aleksei nodded haltingly in agreement. “I knew some of my good taste would rub off on you eventually,” he commented amiably, gritting his teeth as a sharp shaft of pain shot up his spine. Calling her name, his voice filled with pain, he reached for her hand, his fingers interlocking with hers as she cooed words of comfort and love into his ear, her cheek resting against his; warm against cold.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s almost over. Help’s coming,” Jordan vowed, praying she was right, ignoring the pain the swept up her arm as Aleksei’s grip tightened on her hand as another wave of pain swept over him.

The Prayer
began again, its wistful opening notes filled with hope and promise. “Listen to the song, Aleksei. Concentrate on the song. Visualize the program we’ll set to this music you’ve picked. People will say it’s our signature piece. It will be so beautiful, they’ll weep when they see us perform it,” Jordan whispered, tears coursing freely down her cheeks, her heart breaking as she watched the man she loved drift ever closer toward death’s waiting arms.

Aleksei’s ebony eyes opened, glazed with pain yet lucid and accepting. “I’ll always be with you.”

“I know,” Jordan whispered.

“I love you, Jordan, I always will,” Aleksei’s voice broke, tears falling from his dark eyes as he looked into the bruised but beautiful face of the young woman he’d come to love more than life itself.

“Me too. I’ll love you forever, Aleksei!” Jordan answered, pressing soft kisses to his lips, frowning at their coldness.

“Talk me through our program, Jordan. Let me see how beautiful it will be,” Aleksei whispered, his remaining strength draining faster with each passing second.

Jordan pushed the CD button to start the music from the beginning and softly spoke to Aleksei, her cheek resting against his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat. Her words clearly described the way their final program would appear; the beautiful lines they make together in their spirals as they sped across the ice, their powerful lifts and throws, seeming effortless, and the love for each other that would show for all the world to see.

Aleksei mumbled something softly causing Jordan to lift her head and look into his beautiful eyes. “What, Aleksei?”

Aleksei smiled tremulously down into her shining green eyes and gently stroked her bruised cheek, marveling one final time at the silken softness beneath his fingers. “I love you, Jordan. Listen to the whispers on the ice,” he whispered fervently, accepting the soft kiss she brushed across his lips and weakly pushed her head back to his chest.

A world where pain and sorrow will be ended, and every heart that’s broken will be mended. And we’ll remember we are all God’s children, reaching out to touch you—reaching to the sky. We ask that life be kind, and watch us from above. We hope each soul will find another soul to love. Let this be our prayer, when we lose our way. Lead us to a place—guide us with your grace, to a place where we’ll be safe…

Jordan concentrated on the final strains of the music, feeling Aleksei drift into death’s welcoming arms, as the last notes of the song disappeared into the swirling wind, heard his heart slow, and then cease, beneath her tear streaked cheek, felt his grip relax where their fingers were interlaced. She remained still, unable to leave Aleksei, unwilling to break their final tie. Time stood still, marked only by the howling wind, accumulating snow, and the song, which repeated over and over. Jordan passed the time talking to Aleksei, thanking him for all he’d given her, promising she would keep his memory alive, and that she would see him again—someday.

“Hello… Can anybody hear me?” a voice suddenly called out of the wind and swirling snow.

Jordan ran a caressing hand down Aleksei’s cheek, along his jaw, her thumb gently grazing his full lower lip. Leaning forward she placed soft kisses to his temple, his cheek, a last kiss against his lips, whispering a

final vow to love him forever. She took a deep, trembling breath, and with a final tear-filled look, called into the air, “We’re here.”

* * * * *

Silently she waited for her rescuers, her hand holding Aleksei’s, their fingers laced together.

CHAPTER 14  

“The figure-skating world was stunned and saddened today by the unexpected death of Olympic, and World champion, Aleksei Rocmanov. While vacationing with his partner, Jordan Jamison, at the vacation home of Ms. Jamison’s coach, Mr. Rocmanov, and his partner, were struck by a snowplow that lost control after hitting a patch of black ice. The snowplow apparently struck them twice, the second hit pushing them through a guardrail and sending the vehicle the skating partners were traveling in plummeting more than one hundred and fifty feet over the side of a mountain. The vehicle rolled several times before hitting a stand of pines and coming to a stop. Ms. Jamison was admitted to the hospital where she was treated for a broken left wrist, a mild concussion, bruised ribs and lacerations. She was at her partner’s side when he died. Funeral plans have not been announced, as yet.” The reporter, Mark Foster, somberly intoned, his voice emotionally strained. The same reporter who three years before had announced Jordan and Aleksei’s plan to become pairs skating partners.

“Truly devastating news for the figure skating world, Mark. As everyone knows, the pair were planning to participate in next month’s Olympic games and were the favored pair to bring home Gold for the United States. Those dreams and hopes are now gone and we can only wish Jordan a speedy recovery and send our heart-felt condolences. When such a tragedy occurs, it’s hard to understand the reason behind it. When it happens to people so young and full of promise—it’s impossible to understand.” The co-anchor added, her eyes filling with tears and threatening to ruin her perfectly made-up face. “Please know, Jordan, you’re in our thoughts and prayers, and we will never forget the magic you, and Aleksei shared with all of us. We will never be able to thank you enough for that special gift.”

“From all of us, at Channel 5 News. Good night,” The anchorman closed, the screen filling with clips of Aleksei and Jordan’s all too short skating career together.

* * * * *

Jordan stared, unblinking, at the TV screen from her hospital bed. Silent tears traced a path down her cheeks; her teeth worried her full lower lip, much the same way Aleksei used to. How they’d loved to kiss and nibble each other’s mouths. Each kiss seemed sweeter than the one before and they just couldn’t get enough of each other. Dee cast a quick glance at her, dividing her attention between the doctor, Whittaker and Jordan, trying to remain calm for the sake of them all.

“The concussion is minor, nothing to be overly-concerned with, we’re simply keeping her here as a precaution. The lacerations look worse than they actually are—most only superficial. The break in her wrist isn’t causing her the pain I’d normally expect considering the severity. Shock is probably keeping the pain at bay but when the shock wears off she’s going to be uncomfortable. I’ve already scheduled medication to handle that if it gets to be too much for her. The biggest problem is going to be her emotional state. She’s been through a major trauma, no one handles it well when someone they love dies in their arms,” the doctor explained, checking Jordan’s chart and making further notes, glancing from time to time at the silent, petite figure covered with an over-sized hospital gown.

“Is there any memory loss?” Whittaker asked, his voice deep and grave.

“None that is discernible. It might actually have been a blessing if Jordan didn’t remember the accident, at least temporarily. Unfortunately, it seems, she remembers every vivid detail. On the one hand it was good she was with Aleksei when he died—she had time alone to be with him—time to say good-bye. On the other hand, she’ll always wonder how things might have been different if the rescue team had reached them fifteen minutes sooner. The paramedics said she refused to leave him and go up the mountain without him. She climbed up that steep slope holding on to his hand. The rescue workers were awed, they’d never seen anything like the devotion she showed Aleksei.”

“Has she said anything?” Dee asked quietly, wiping tears away.

The doctor looked worn out, it had been a long night. “She wanted to know why she made it and he didn’t. It’s a typical question survivors have. It’s an expected part of the whole ‘survivor guilt’ scenario.”

“Do the survivors ever get over the guilt?” Whittaker questioned.

“Some do—some don’t—every case is different,” the doctor answered truthfully.

“How do we help her?” Dee asked, looking over the doctor’s shoulder at Jordan, still silently crying.

“Be there for her, listen to her, let her rage. You know her best, she’ll let you in when she’s ready,” the doctor finished, finalized his notes, shook Dee and Whittaker’s hands wishing them well and quietly left the room.

Dee looked at Whittaker, noting his pale complexion and pain filled eyes. Aleksei had been the closest thing to a son he had had, and now he needed to plan his funeral. Dee squeezed his hand, trying to show what she couldn’t put into words and struggled to hold back the tears that threatened again. There would be time for tears later, now she had to get through the night.

Whittaker coughed gruffly, running a hand through his gray hair and stood. “I’ll be back soon, as soon as things are in order. You stay with Jordan,” he stated, nodding toward the petite figure on the bed.

“Can I do anything for you—for Aleksei,” Dee asked, her voice catching in sorrow.

“Take care of Jordan for him. It’s what he wanted more than anything on earth—knowing she was safe,” he growled, brushing away a tear that escaped his tightly held control.

Dee could only nod her agreement, afraid to speak for fear of completely breaking down.

Whittaker placed a soft kiss on her cheek, squeezed her hand reassuringly and left the room, the soft squeak of his sneakers against the shining tile the only sound heard in the otherwise silent corridor.

* * * * *

“William…William…” Nora called from the living room where she sat watching the evening news, disbelief clear in her wide-eyed gaze.

“What is it, Nora?” her husband asked as he hurried to join her on the couch.

“That’s them. Isn’t it? I’m sure that’s them,” Nora stuttered, pointing at the TV, her outstretched arm shaking.

William looked at the TV, then slipped his glasses from his shirt pocket and slid them onto his nose. The images cleared, his heart skipped a beat as the newscast on Jordan and Aleksei filled the screen.“Damn,”he mumbled, sorrow filling him. He and Nora had only met them that afternoon and spoken for only a few minutes, yet the news that less than three hours later one of them was dead made him go numb.

Silently they listened to the broadcast, Nora clutching his hand tightly, tears slowly trailing down her cheeks. When the news showed footage of their
Romeo and Juliet
performance, Nora jumped to her feet. “William, that was them. They’re the skaters we saw out on the pond the other day. That was the music we heard, remember?”

“Sweet God,” he mumbled, shaking his head in sorrow. “How could this happen?”

“It shouldn’t have happened. They were young; their whole lives ahead of them. Heavens, William, they were going to the Olympics!” Nora cried, suddenly gasping as her hands swept up to cover her mouth.

“Nora, what’s wrong?” William questioned, grasping her arm and turning her to face him.

“The tape. We were the last people to see them skate together,” she cried softly.

William wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “I’d forgotten all about that. I do my best to forget when you’re using that silly video camera. I always look fat in the movies and you always seem to wait until I’m bent over to film me.”

“And here I thought you just liked to show me your good side,” Nora teased, wiping her cheeks against his shirtfront. “We need to get that tape to that young lady. I think she might like to have it—as a reminder of better times,” she suggested.

William looked down into his wife’s upturned face and wiggled her nose fondly. “You’re always thinking of ways to make things better for others. You’re one very special lady, Nora. No wonder I love you so much!” he stated lovingly, gently kissing her forehead and giving her a quick hug. “Before we call the news station though, we better see what, if anything, came out on that tape of yours.”

“You’re right,” Nora agreed and with a quick kiss to her husband’s mouth, left to find the video camera.

William cast a final glance at the TV screen, his heart growing heavy as he watched the news report and short tribute about Jordan and Aleksei end. “God be with you both!” he whispered to the picture of the pair on the screen as he watched the credits end and the screen go dark.

* * * * *

“When can I leave?” Jordan asked quietly, allowing the nurse to write down her blood pressure reading on the chart she held.

“As soon as Dr. Barnes clears you. Your blood pressure and temperature are normal, eyes look good,” the nurse answered, checking her pupils with a small flashlight. “No residual effects from the concussion are indicated. My guess is you could probably be out of here by tomorrow.”

“I’m not waiting that long!” Jordan stated, her tone soft but determined, causing the nurse to look at her in surprise.

“That will be up to the doctor to decide,” the nurse responded diplomatically. The young woman in the bed might physically look the size of a twelve year old, but her eyes held more pain than anyone should have to deal with. The nurse had seen death first hand, even held the hands of strangers who had been in her care, yet she’d never experienced the death of someone close to her. Thankfully, her parents, her brother and sister, even her grandmother were still alive and well, irritatingly so at times, and she sent a quick thank-you skyward. Now, looking at the petite young woman with haunted green eyes before her, she couldn’t imagine the sorrow and emptiness she had to be feeling. Not only had she lost someone she’d loved personally, her professional life would be changed drastically.

All the hospital staff had been told of the accident that claimed Aleksei Rocmanov’s life and they’d been advised that, until further notice, they were operating under a ‘no comment’ restriction. Access to Jordan would be limited to her doctor, the two nurses assigned to her, Dee and Whittaker. All other hospital personnel and visitors would need to be cleared by the security guard posted at her door. Too many attempts by the media to enter her room for an exclusive story had led to the decision to post the guard.

“Good morning, Ms. Carlen,” the security guard said quietly, holding the door open for Dee to enter Jordan’s room and then closing it silently behind her. The nurse acknowledged her presence with a quick nod and continued to make notes in Jordan’s chart.

“Good morning, Jordan,” Dee whispered, placing a kiss against her cheek and giving her a gentle hug.

“Hi, Dee,” Jordan answered softly.

“How’s everything look?” Dee questioned the nurse.

“I’m fine. I want out of here today!” Jordan answered for the nurse.

Dee looked from Jordan’s pale face and sorrow filled eyes to the nurse’s sympathetic gaze. “Is she ready to be released?”

“As I told Jordan, that’s up to Dr. Barnes,” the nurse answered.

“Fuck Dr. Barnes, with or without his release, I am leaving this hospital today!” Jordan stated firmly, her eyes darkening to deep green, a dangerous light flaming in their center.

“Jordan, please,” Dee pleaded, her heart breaking as she looked into Jordan’s flashing eyes and deathly pale face. “Everyone just wants what’s best for you.”

“What about Aleksei? What was best for him? It certainly wasn’t me or he’d still be alive.”

“How can you say that?” Dee asked aghast. “You were the best thing that ever happened to him. He knew it! Hell, he even said it. Not necessarily in words but in his actions, every second you were with him, and even when you weren’t, for that matter.”

“And look at where it got him. Dead. Just like everyone else I’ve ever loved!” Jordan yelled.

“That’s not true. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” Dee stated.

Jordan’s eyes widened, her breath catching as Dee’s words, the same exact words Aleksei had used crashed over her, taking her strength and forcing her back against the pillows. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Jordan whispered, curling herself into a small ball on her side facing away from Dee.

Dee looked at Jordan’s small body huddled in a ball beneath the covers and her heart ached, tears slipped silently from her eyes and her fingers laced together anxiously. “Jordan…”

“I don’t want to talk right now, Dee. Please find Dr. Barnes and see what it will take to get me out of here today,” Jordan requested softly.

“I don’t know if you’re ready…”

“TODAY!” Jordan interrupted, her determined tone and one-word demand leaving no room for discussion.

Dee ran one hand through her hair in frustration, gritting her teeth to still the scream of rage about the unfairness of life that was raging to escape. “I’ll see what I can do.” Jordan only nodded an acknowledgment.“Do you have any idea where Dr.Barnes might be?”Dee asked the nurse who stood silently watching the exchange.

“I’ll have him paged immediately,” she answered and inquired if either of the ladies needed anything, received no thank-yous and left the room.

“Jordan…” Dee began only to be interrupted by Whittaker’s arrival into the room. Dee heaved a sigh of relief and walked into his welcoming arms.