“I’ll bring him inside.” Kolya spoke at her shoulder, his voice hoarse. “You go in to Pavlo and my mother.”
The front door hung open, swaying gently in the wind. She stepped over Yosyp’s body and into the house. It took her eyes a second to adjust to the dim room from the glaring white snow, but as the scene came into focus, she wished the snow had left her blind forever.
Blood splattered the walls. Chairs lay turned on their sides; linens were strewn all over the floor. Despite the chaos, two tin mugs still rested on the table where Tato had probably sat with Yosyp, discussing the situation in the village or the upcoming marriage of their children.
Her gaze dropped to Pavlo, stretched out on the floor right inside the door, his face turned away from her and his shoulder soaked in blood. Pavlo’s mother lay face down over his chest, her arms splayed out around him.
A strangled sob lodged in Katya’s throat. Tears rolled out of her eyes and their heat on her cold cheeks surprised her. The ice she’d imagined running through her couldn’t keep her safe from this pain. She was melting.
She dropped to her knees at their sides. A trickle of sweat ran down between Katya’s shoulder blades, and her hands shook as she pulled the older woman onto her back next to her son. Her eyes, the same color as Pavlo’s, stared up, wide with surprise. Streaks of Pavlo’s blood smeared her face and hair. With soft fingers, Katya closed her eyes. Her hand came away wet with blood, and a small cry of anguish slipped past her quivering lips. She wiped it off on her skirt, but the skin on her fingers throbbed where it had touched.
A jagged pain tore through her gut as she dragged her eyes to Pavlo. Although she could see his body lying there in a pool of blood, the idea that she would never talk to him again was so foreign that it felt impossible. How could they not stare up into the clouds together and pick out pictures? How could they not fight over the names of the ten children they wanted to have together? How could she have a future without him in it?
She took a deep, shuddering breath and willed herself to go on. I can do this. I must do this. She gripped his good shoulder with a tremulous hand. Despite the cold day, his skin still felt warm through his shirt. She paused, closing her eyes and gathering what strength she had left, then, resolutely, pulled him toward her. His head rolled, landing next to her lap.
Katya stared down into the face of the man she loved and gasped as his eyelids fluttered. A tiny glimmer of hope rushed through her, and she jumped to her feet in disbelief.
“Kolya, come quick! Pavlo’s alive!” Katya fell back to her knees and ripped open Pavlo’s shirt to reveal the bullet hole: a clean shot into his upper back with an exit wound out of his shoulder.
“He’s alive?” Kolya dropped down next to her and peered at the wound. “The bullet went right through him. Maybe it didn’t hit anything vital.”
“Let’s get him on the bed,” she instructed, her voice shrill.
With Katya at his feet and Kolya gripping under his arms, they moved Pavlo’s limp body to the bed on the pich.
“Go fetch hot water!” Katya grabbed a sheet and began ripping long bandages. Together, she and Kolya carefully cleaned the wound, then splashed it with some horilka that had been set aside for the wedding celebration. Pavlo thrashed as the liquor burned his wound, but he didn’t wake up.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Kolya said as Katya dried the skin around the gash.
“He’ll be fine.” Katya glared at Kolya, daring him to disagree. “Now prop him up so I can wrap this bandage around him.”
“His head is bleeding, too. Where they hit him.” Kolya tilted Pavlo’s head so Katya could view the large knot behind his ear, seeping blood. “That’s probably why he’s unconscious.”
“Maybe he passed out from the pain,” she said.
Kolya snorted. “Not Pavlo. He is as tough as old leather.”
“That’s why he’ll be fine now,” Katya said with a firm nod. Nothing could make her think otherwise. She’d thought she’d lost him forever, but this mercy, this reprieve, had given her another chance with him, and she’d be damned if she let him slip away again.
Mama and Alina burst into the house, but before they had a chance to speak, Katya shouted, “He’s alive! Pavlo’s alive!”
Mama rushed over and examined him. “You’ve cleaned it well, Katya? We cannot risk infection.”
“Yes, like you showed me when Tato cut his hand. Where is he?”