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]

It's not the most comfortable position to rest his cheek against her head; he's too tall for that. But he really doesn't care right now.

The sun is sinking below the horizon, leaving only a thin golden curve above the land. Soon it will vanish, leaving only the pink and orange billows of clouds to fade into dusk.

"We will never," he says finally, breath warm against her hair, "have any guarantees. No matter how long we wait."

Part of him is thinking, this is real.

We're really deciding this.

"If we have a way, and you are willing to take it -- if it is all right for you, for both of us -- then... maybe we shouldn't wait too long."

This whole conversation has been spiraling towards this choice, but it still comes out hesitant, half a question.

But only half.

[prydeful]

Kate doesn't say anything for several moments.

And then she turns in his arms, first to just press her face to his chest and wrap her arms around him and say nothing.

Kate tilts her head back, looks at Piotr's face for a good while, looks for something in it she must find, because she pushes herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him, soft and deep and slow.

"I am scared." It's his language, not hers, as she breathes the words against his mouth. "For our child. For us. Of losing our child, of the world we're bringing him into. But I am not so scared as to not try, I don't think. If you will help me."

She knows the answer to that already.

[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.