On Shadow

[steelartisan]

Piotr spent most of the afternoon mending fences. Horses rub against fences and kick them; wind and rain and time wear them down. It's a neverending chore on any farm with livestock to make sure everything is in good repair, and fix any weak spots before they turn into problems big enough for the animals to get out.

It's good, honest work. Satisfying.

But he's finished with this fence, and the sun is sinking. He'll head back in to Sallie's cozy house soon, and to dinner. Her cooking's not the Russian farm food he grew up with, but she's still an excellent cook.

First, though...

Shadow has some truly beautiful sunsets.

Comments

[steelartisan]

"Vsegda," he whispers, and gathers her into his arms.

Always.

[prydeful]

And that makes her laugh, a little, quietly, into his mouth.

"Da, then. Piotr Nikolevitch Rasputin. Da. We won't wait on that part."

[steelartisan]

He doesn't ask what parts they will wait on.

Just whispers, "I love you, my Katya," and cups her head with a broad hand as he kisses her again.

He's terrified, and he's exhilarated, and he thinks his heart will burst with love.

[prydeful]

"I love you too. With everything in me. I love you."

She smiles at the feel of his hand, and she offers a kiss to his palm before looking up at him.

"So we will try for a baby. You and I."

And a very small part of her, the part that most little girls have and never lose, wonders if they can name the child Carmen if it's a boy.

But it's very small, and in the back, behind the fear and the excitement and the joy.

"Good decision, I think."

[steelartisan]

"Me too."

He can't stop smiling, small and bright and very, very warm.

"Together, we will try."

Saying try is automatic, because there are still obstacles, and it's still soon, and they know the risks of getting their hopes up -- but they both know, too, that saying try and maybe changes absolutely nothing about those hopes.

And in his heart, it's we will.

[prydeful]

She's still scared.

A lot--no doubt about that.

But the way he looks, the happiness--it helps. It helps her start to risk feeling a little of her own. A little more hope.

"Trying's good. We can do that."

She kisses his jaw, softly, slowly, and repeated, making a path from one side of his face to another before just sighing and breathing in his skin.

Kids they've talked about.

There's another, reason, though, they're on Shadow.

Kate doesn't lift her head or say a word for a few minutes before saying, slowly, "I love you. And I'm yours. But I don't--let's have this. Have this first. And later we'll talk about what else we can have."

And now she does lift her head, looking at him as she bites her lip before saying, "A child's not a reason to get married. And I know--I know you love me, Piotr, I do, and I love you too. But let's--not marriage yet. Let's try to have our baby. And then--then we can see what we do next. As," and her smile is small and nervous and more hopeful than she knows, "a family."

[steelartisan]

It's -- not what he wants.

Not what he hoped she'd say.

But even if she says no, he'd told himself in the moments when he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, it doesn't change anything.

She's not saying no. She's saying not yet. She's saying, again, maybe. And if that's what she wants -- if that's what she's willing to give -- then Piotr can accept it, and believe that later really will come.

And she's just agreed to try to have his child; what more commitment is a ring, in the face of that?

And, most of all, there's the way she's smiling up at him, nervous and hopeful and loving.

"All right," he whispers, and brushes a gentle thumb along her cheekbone.

It's not what he wants most. But it is all right.

"We'll see. Our family," and the thing is, those two words feel like a miracle just in themselves, our family and the fact that it's true, and for that alone he'd bend now to kiss her again.

[prydeful]

And that makes her shoulder slump just a little, an inch or so, in relief, and makes her press her face into his hand.

"Spasibo." Thank you, she murmurs, because she knows--of course--it's not what he was hoping for, not what he wants.

But it's what is, and--and it's them. If he says, all right, then Kate believes it is.

Her hands drift up to stroke his hair, cradle his face, and she whispers, "I love you," very softly, voice gentle as her touch.

"Our family. We'll try. We'll see how it goes." And there's hope in that. The kind that's not given through needles. The kind that gives instead of taking away.

[steelartisan]

The sun will set; dinner will come, with Sallie and Jack Twist and assorted ranch hands, and an evening in the cozy Reynolds house, and the night to follow. And nothing's instantly changed, or instantly solved.

But they've made choices. Here, tonight, under the setting sun and amid the wide fields of another planet.

And there's hope in that, and -- maybe, if God or the fates are kind -- a future.