He shook his head but smiled. “No, but I can try to do it again next time.”
Katya’s soul warmed as she smiled back at the man she now called husband, but had known her whole life as friend. Maybe they could weather this change in their relationship and move past the shame and awkwardness of their forced marriage.
In their youth, they had enjoyed each other’s company. He took on the role of the older brother she’d never had, teaching her things and teasing her like a little sister. After he and Alina married, and even after she died, they remained close to each other, always working toward the same objective: stay alive and keep Halya alive. It united them.
But that camaraderie had disappeared the moment they’d uttered their marriage vows. It cast a light onto a facet of their relationship that neither of them wanted to explore. Their once solid brotherly, sisterly bond now dripped with doubts and guilt.
The guilt haunted Katya. What would Pavlo think? Would he understand that she had to marry Kolya? Would he hate her? And Alina! If her sister could see Katya in her place as the wife of Kolya, would she ever forgive her?
A few months ago, she would have sworn that she could never love another man. Now, as she watched Kolya tenderly feed Halya tiny pieces of the meat, she wasn’t so certain.
The early spring thaw tricked them into thinking winter had passed. Then, a late winter storm moved in and dropped a foot of snow on the village. The temperature plunged and all of the early signs of spring they’d welcomed now lay buried in snow and ice.
“I daresay the activists would not even travel in this weather. It’s frigid cold!” Katya shivered where she lay curled up on the bed with Halya.
Halya slept so much now that Katya had to check throughout the day to see if she was still breathing. Each time she reached out to touch the still child, her heart pounding in her ears, she prepared herself for Halya to be cold and stiff. Like Denys. Like Viktor. And each time the child responded to the touch and Katya felt the warm, sluggish, body move under her hand, relief made her knees weak.
Katya would then wake her and gently force a few bites of food or broth into her. She’d found that small amounts of food distributed more often were easier for the child to take in. As Halya ate, Katya would tell her about their future.
“When this is over, Halya, we’ll leave this place of fear and death. We’ll make a new life where you can eat as much as you like every day. I promise you, like I promised your mother. I will give you everything I can.” Vasyl’s words about America danced through her mind. “Maybe we’ll even cross the ocean.”
The little girl listened, her large eyes following Katya’s mouth as she talked, but she didn’t respond. All of her energy had to be channeled into the act of eating.
Foraging through the deep snow took more energy than either Kolya or Katya had. Luckily, they had two crows—lulled back by the false spring—and about forty grains of wheat she’d found hidden in the hem of an old skirt. They would fare well in the snowstorm for a few days.
“Do you think you can eat the crows?” Kolya asked.
“Of course I can. I’ve eaten far worse.” Her stomach rolled in revolt when she thought of what the birds ate, but her mouth watered at the idea of food. “Though it does seem eerily close to cannibalism to eat a bird so recently feasting on a human body.”
Kolya’s eyes darkened. “You can’t think about that part. Just think of it as a chicken.”
“I’m glad you have such good aim with a slingshot,” Katya said.
“It’s hard to miss when they are gathered by the dozens on the bodies left out at the cemetery. If I had the strength, I’d dig holes for those poor people.” He stared down at his ragged, chapped hands with disgust.
“It’s a terrible thing to see them laying there like that, but there’s nothing anyone can do. The ground is frozen.” Katya rested her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he recoiled at her touch and jumped up from the chair.
“I’ll go fill a pot with snow for the broth.” The words tripped out of his mouth as he stumbled for the door.
“Fine.” Her eyes stung, and she clenched her hands so tight that her nails dug into her palm. She’d only wanted to comfort him. Was she really so repugnant to him that he couldn’t bear her touch?
That night, Katya couldn’t stop shivering, and from the look of Kolya in the other bed, he had the same problem. Their bodies had no fat left to insulate them and they were nearly out of firewood. The scant fire in the pich put out very little heat.