“I haven’t seen her.”
“Does she know I was shot?”
Dalek shrugged.
One of the men from the patrol would have told her. He was surprised she hadn’t pestered Dalek for an update. Telegraph clerks were the first to know everything. “Will you check on her for me when you go back?”
Dalek’s hand balled into a fist on his lap. Filip stared at it. Had he made Dalek angry? He’d thought they were good enough friends to ask favors of each other, especially when Filip was wounded and he was only asking Dalek to take a short walk through the village. Would Dalek come all the way to the hospital in Yekaterinburg but balk at walking to see Nadia?
“I don’t think you understand. I haven’t seen her, and not because I haven’t checked. She’s gone, Filip.”
“What?” Filip could barely get the word out. What on earth could Dalek mean?
Dalek shook his head. “I thought she was just out when I ran to get her before the train left. But I checked again after it pulled away. And again an hour later, then again and again. She never came back.”
“But where would she have gone?”
Dalek looked at the floor again. “The day before you were shot, I saw her talking to an officer in Kolchak’s army. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—I was just trying to look out for her. It sounded like they were engaged to be married before the war.”
Filip nodded. “She was supposed to marry one of her brother’s friends. She said it wasn’t a love match, but the families were pleased with it.”
“He offered to marry her when they met at the train depot. When she said she was already married, he offered to whisk her off anyway, said he could take care of her current marriage. She told him no. I was proud of her, sticking with you when he was offering luxury, but . . .”
“But what?”
“Not all the Russians who left that morning were going west. Major Petrov was on the eastbound train. It left that morning, a little after you went on patrol. I assumed he was a courier, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Petrov?” In the Ukraine, Nadia had told him her maiden name was Petrova. That was no coincidence. Had she loved her former fiancé more than she’d let on, loved him enough to use his name? “I need to get out of this hospital. Nurse!” he shouted the last bit.
“Are you well enough to leave?”
“Not well enough for patrols but well enough to go back. I have to see for myself.”
Dalek stood. “Filip, there’s nothing to see. Just an empty boxcar. Don’t ruin your health because she’s gone and left you for some tall officer with a rich father.”
Filip didn’t care if the boxcar was empty. He had to know what she had taken and what she had left.
“At least stay in bed until it’s time for the westbound train to depart.”
“I have to be on the next one.” He would wait at the station overnight if needed, anything to get back as soon as possible to the boxcar he’d shared with Nadia.
Dalek stood next to the bed, making it hard for Filip to get out. Probably on purpose. “I’ll fetch you when I find a train. I promise.”
He had the feeling Dalek would stand there for hours, keeping him in bed if he didn’t cooperate. “The very next train.”
“You have my word.”
Filip waited the rest of the afternoon. Nadia couldn’t have left him. They were in love. As soon as the war ended, they would go to Czechoslovakia and have a family together. They knew where they would christen their babies, knew which bakeries they’d patronize, knew which colors of paint they would use in their rooms above the watchmaker’s shop. It was all planned out, and he thought she’d been just as eager as he was to see it through. He’d hurt her by keeping that secret from her, that Kral would have given her refuge even if she hadn’t been married to a legionnaire. But she’d forgiven him—hadn’t she?
Dalek came back just after supper and helped him to the depot. Filip’s shoulder was sore, but his legs worked well enough. Maybe she’d spoken with someone from the patrol and caught a train before she saw Dalek. She might have gotten off at the wrong depot or gotten delayed somewhere. But as long as she found the railroad, she’d come back. Maybe she was waiting for him in their boxcar now.
The journey should have been short, but at one of the depots there was a delay getting wood, and at the next, they had to wait for a special train to go by. When they finally reached the village, it was nearly morning.
The boxcar was cold when he pushed inside. Of course it was. The stove hadn’t burned for almost a week. Dalek started a fire while Filip looked around. He’d left before she had gotten out of bed that fateful morning. He still remembered sitting next to her and kissing her. She’d smiled up at him and run her hand down his back. It had felt normal, part of the richly satisfying routine they’d fallen into.
The bed was made now. The blankets were tidy and the pillows fluffed and untouched. He grabbed Nadia’s and pressed his face into it, trying to catch her scent. Still there but faint.