The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman #1)

The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman #1) Page 87

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A night passed before he saw her again. Alexander woke up, and there she was, sitting by his side. They sat and stared at each other. Tatiana said, “Shura, now, don’t be upset with me.”

“Oh my God” was all Alexander could manage. “You are just relentless.”

Nodding, Tatiana quietly said, “Relentlessly married.”

“No. Just relentless.”

Leaning toward him, she whispered, “Relentlessly in love.” She added, “You needed me. I came.”

“I didn’t need you here,” Alexander said. “How many times do I have to tell you? I need you safe.”

“And who is going to keep you safe?” She took his hand and smiled. Looking around to make sure there were no nurses or doctors close by, she kissed his hand and then pressed it to her face. “You’re going to be all right, big man. You just hang on.”

“Tania, after I’m out of here, I’m getting a divorce.” He was not letting go of her face. For anything.

Shaking her head, she said, “Sorry. Can’t. You wanted a covenant with God? You got it.”

“Tatiasha . . .”

“Yes, darling, yes, Shura? I’m so happy to hear your voice, to hear you talking.”

“Tell me the truth. How bad was I hurt?”

“Not too bad,” she replied in a low voice, smiling at him, her face white.

“What was I thinking running out after Marazov like that? I should have let his men take care of him. They were stuck, though. They couldn’t move forward, they weren’t bringing him back.” He paused. “Poor Tolya.”

Her smile never leaving her mouth, Tatiana said, slightly glazed over with sadness, “I said a prayer for Tolya.”

“Did you say one for me, too?”

“No,” she said. “Because you weren’t dying. I said a prayer for me. I said, dear God, please help me heal him.” She held his hand. “But, Alexander, you could no more help running after Marazov than you could help yelling in English at the doctor, or jumping into the water after him, or pulling him behind you to safety. You could no more help that than you could help returning with Yuri Stepanov. Remember, Shura, we are all a sum of our parts. And what do your parts say about you?”

“That I’m a f*cking lunatic. My back feels like it’s on fire.” He smiled, remembering Luga. “Is it just glass cuts, Tania?”

Hesitating for a moment, she said, “You got burned. But you’ll be fine.” She pressed her cheek harder into his hand. “Tell me the truth, tell me you’re not happy to see me.”

“I could say it, but I’d be lying.” He rubbed her freckles, gazing at her without blinking.

She took out a small vial of morphine from her pocket and attached it to the entry point in his IV drip.

“What are you doing?”

She whispered, “Giving you a small intravenous morphine push. So your back doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.” In seconds he felt better. She leaned her head back into his hand.

Alexander looked her over up and down. Tatiana exuded a porous, evanescent, yet everlasting warmth; her very presence, her satin face in his palm made his back hurt less. Her radiant eyes, her flushed cheeks, her slightly parted loving lips . . . Alexander stared at her, his eyes wide open, his soul wide open, his adoring heart hurting exquisitely. “You are an angel sent from heaven, aren’t you?”

An electric smile lit up her face. “And you don’t know the half of it,” she whispered. “You don’t know what your Tania has been cooking up here.” In her delight she nearly squealed.

“What have you been cooking up? No, don’t sit up. I want to feel your face.”

“Shura, I can’t. I’m practically on top of you. We need to be very careful.” The smile faded an octave. “Dimitri walks around here all the time. Walks in, out, checks on you, leaves, comes back. What’s he worried about? He was quite surprised to find me here.”

“He’s not the only one. How did you get here?”

“All part of my plan, Alexander.”

“What plan is this, Tatiana?”

She whispered, “To be with you when I die of old age.”

“Oh, that plan.”

“Shura, I have to talk to you. I need to talk to you when you’re lucid. I need you to hear me very carefully.”

“Tell me now.”

“I can’t now. I said lucid.” She smiled. “Besides, I have to go now. I was sitting for an hour waiting for you to wake up. I’ll come back tomorrow.” She looked around his bed. “See how I put you here in the corner, so that we can have a wall next to you and a little privacy.” She pointed to the window next to his bed. “I know it’s high, but you can see a bit of sky and two trees, northern pines, I think. Pines, Shura.”

“Pines, Tania.”

She got up. “The man next to you can’t hear or see. If he can speak, it’s a mystery how.” She smiled. “Plus, do you see the isolation tent around him so he can breathe clearer air? I put the tent around him, to help him, but it blocks you from half the ward. This is almost more private than Fifth Soviet.”

“How is Inga?”

Pausing, chewing her lip, Tatiana said, “Inga is not at Fifth Soviet anymore.”

“Oh, finally she moved?”

“Yes,” said Tatiana, “she’s been moved.”

They stared at each other and then slowly nodded. Alexander closed his eyes. He did not, could not let go of her. “Tania,” he whispered, “is it true you went out on the ice? In the middle of a ferocious battle for Leningrad, you crawled out onto the ice?”

Bending over him, she quickly kissed him and whispered, “Yes, the bravest soldier of my heart. For Leningrad.”

“Tatia,” said Alexander, his nerve endings aching, “tomorrow don’t wait an hour to wake me up.”