He was a gymnast, accustomed to falls. He grabbed a branch and swung out, away from the bulk of the oak’s branches, then let go, falling, tucking, then splaying out in time to land hard. He stumbled back, then ran for cover as bullets tore into the branches of the oak tree and shards of wood pelted down all around him.
Behind the wall of a nearby home, Dalek slapped him on the shoulder and handed him his rifle. “Nice shooting. But I would have stuck the landing. Let’s collect our gun and the rest of our squad.”
The withdrawal fell into a pattern after Doch: retreat to cover, wait for the Germans, repulse the Germans, repulse them again, then tear up the tracks and retreat once more. And though the work was dangerous, it was also effective. The mighty German Army advanced but not nearly as fast as it wanted to.
They fought for five days, until the evacuation was almost complete. Then they tore up a few hundred feet of rail line and boarded trains at Bakhmach station. They pulled away at night, heading east.
Filip sincerely hoped that the next time he met the Germans, it would be in France.
Chapter Eight
When the men caught up to them, Nadia felt both relief and anxiety. She wanted Filip to be safe, but how did one act around a temporary husband? She was still learning how to braid Veronika’s hair and cooperate with the other women in the train. Adding Filip, and whatever expectations he might have, made everything more complicated. Would he want more from their relationship than she’d bargained on?
He greeted her with a smile. “How are you?”
“Well, thank you.” She still lived, and that was thanks to the Czechoslovak Legion and Filip Sedlák. What was more, they were on the Russian side of the border. The Cheka had even greater authority here, but local agents wouldn’t be looking for her.
“You’ve had enough food? A place to sleep?”
“Yes.”
He relaxed his stance slightly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make sure you were taken care of myself. It just happened so fast and . . .”
“You’re a soldier. I understand. Both my brothers served in the Imperial Russian Army.” Of course, they’d been officers. In a similar situation, they could have asked an orderly to see to a temporary wife’s needs, but Filip didn’t have such resources. He was escaping too; the whole legion was, more than seventy trains of them. “I’m grateful for your help.”
“Where are your brothers now? With the White Army? Or the Red?”
“Alexander died near Przemyśl. Nikolai died during the Brusilov Offensive.”
Lines of sympathy formed around his mouth. “So between the war and the revolution, you’ve lost your entire family?”
“Yes.” Nadia hoped he wouldn’t ask any more questions about her family because emotion already tightened her throat.
“I’m sorry.” Maybe he could tell she didn’t want to speak about Alexander and Nikolai just then, because he changed the subject. “Some of the other men and I have something for the car. We’re going to install a stove.”
A bone-gripping chill penetrated the train at nights, leaving Nadia to shiver in her coat and single blanket. She missed the warmth of her family’s homes, where servants always kept the rooms a comfortable temperature. “That sounds lovely.”
“It will probably make the center of the car hot and leave the corners freezing, but somewhere in the middle, it should be pleasant.”
Anton and another soldier appeared then, carrying a secondhand stove. Veronika walked with her husband, a smile lighting her face. Larisa laughed at something the other man said. Nadia assumed he was her husband.
Veronika stayed with Anton, and none of the other women would want Nadia around, so she watched the installation from just outside the boxcar. Filip climbed to the roof and sawed a hole for the stovepipe. It was too small, so he made it larger while Anton and the other soldier worked on the stove itself, bolting it to the floor of the boxcar and fitting the pieces of pipe together.
A stove would mean warmer nights and hot water to wash with. She could make tea—her single cooking skill—for the other women . . . if they had tea, and if she could figure out how to use the stove. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it? Just put the wood in and strike a match. It sounded so simple but so had braiding hair.
Filip stayed on top of the boxcar while Anton started a fire in the newly installed stove to make sure it worked correctly. Smoke floated gracefully from the short chimney. “Is any leaking into the car?” Filip asked.
“No.” Larisa’s husband inspected the pipes. He banged on them to make sure they would hold and nodded his satisfaction. The project was complete.
Filip climbed down with impressive agility and approached Nadia with what seemed like caution. Perhaps he was just as nervous as she was.
She gave him a smile of gratitude. “Thank you. The stove is very welcome.”
“Do you need anything else? I’m off duty at present.”