“That’s a promise I can keep tonight.” He helped her to her feet, and they wandered to the nearest source of music. Dalek stood before a boxcar, playing, and listeners sat nearby or danced in a clearing of grassy taiga. Filip pulled a log over so they’d have somewhere to sit and settled next to Nadia. He should have picked a shorter log—it would have given him an excuse to sit closer to her.
Nadia closed her eyes and leaned back, as if that could help her hear the music better. As much as he admired her gray eyes, there was something equally appealing in her calm concentration, her graceful neck, her silky black hair, and the contentment on her face. Dalek was back in practice again. The music was better than normal. She seemed to be inhaling it, as if each note was feeding her soul.
“I went to Petrograd the summer before the war, when it was still Saint Petersburg. Music and dancing every night. My mother had a dozen new gowns made for me. It was such a different world back then.”
Dalek smirked at Filip as he ended one song and began another. What was behind that knowing nod? If Filip hadn’t been so worn out from six weeks of fighting and a day of hammering rails, he would have suggested they change groups. Filip wasn’t eager to be the butt of whatever prank Dalek was planning.
Nadia opened her eyes at the new song. “A waltz. Do you dance?”
“Me?” Filip laughed. “No. At least not like they do in Petrograd.”
“But do you waltz?”
“That’s a type of dancing, isn’t it? No, I don’t waltz.”
Her eyes followed Anton and Veronika, then Larisa and Petr. She glanced at him again. “Would you like to learn? I could teach you. You’ve taught me so much. Maybe I can return the favor in some small way.”
The couples dancing to Dalek’s music seemed like they were having fun. Not all were graceful, but they looked happy, as though the connection in their hands was creating a deeper joining of their minds and hearts. Filip envied them but didn’t dare join them. The last time Nadia had waltzed, it had probably been with a noble who had taken lessons for years. What would she think of Filip’s clumsy attempts? “I doubt I can be taught to waltz.”
“Oh.” She looked at her lap, and the corners of her mouth pulled down. “I would undoubtedly make a poor teacher.”
“I’m sure you’d be a fine teacher. It’s the skill of your student that I doubt.”
She looked up, surprised. “But, Filip, you can do anything, can’t you?”
He waited for her to break out into laughter, but she seemed completely serious. “No. Why would you think that?”
Her elegant lips twisted. “Well, they always call you when they need information about what’s ahead or what’s behind. You can cook and clean and paint boxcars and repair rail line. You sew and cut wood and know all about weapons. It just seems like you know so much. I was foolish to think I could teach you anything.” She folded her arms across her chest and resumed watching the dancers, but the earlier contentment was gone.
Filip reached for her elbow. “Nadia, I was questioning my ability, not yours. Please, teach me to waltz. If anyone can teach me, you can.”
She was hesitant now, uncertain. He stood and held out a hand for her. Slowly, she accepted. Maybe, for a few moments, they could be like the other couples. Happy. Enjoying one another’s company. Wanting a love that would last.
“What do I do?” he asked.
“You’ll have to put your rifle down.”
Putting his rifle down seemed easy enough, but now it was his turn to hesitate. They’d taken several weapons caches recently, so replacing it would be possible, but that particular rifle had helped him across several thousand miles of hostile territory.
Nadia seemed to understand. “Dalek will see if anyone tries to take it. We probably will too.”
“Dalek will probably snitch it to make a nuisance of himself.”
She smiled. “He’ll have to stop playing first, so you’ll have warning.”
Filip took a deep breath and let his rifle rest against the log they’d been sitting on. “All right. Now what.”
“You take my right hand in your left. And place your right hand on my back.”
He ran his hand over her right fingers before grasping her palm. He glanced at the other dancers, not sure if he should place his other hand closer to her shoulders or the small of her back. The others weren’t uniform. Some men held the women higher, others lower. He decided on a midpoint, and she placed her free hand on his shoulder.
“It might help if you count in your head. One-two-three, one-two-three. Hear how the music has the same count?”
He nodded.
“You can hold me a little tighter. I’m not going to break.”
That was an instruction he was happy to heed. He moved forward but not too close. It was tempting to skip the dancing altogether and simply pull her into him completely. But what then? He had a good idea of what he’d like to do, but he doubted Nadia would agree.