“I’m sure you’d be a fine teacher. It’s the skill of your student that I doubt.”
She looked up, surprised. “But, Filip, you can do anything, can’t you?”
He waited for her to break out into laughter, but she seemed completely serious. “No. Why would you think that?”
Her elegant lips twisted. “Well, they always call you when they need information about what’s ahead or what’s behind. You can cook and clean and paint boxcars and repair rail line. You sew and cut wood and know all about weapons. It just seems like you know so much. I was foolish to think I could teach you anything.” She folded her arms across her chest and resumed watching the dancers, but the earlier contentment was gone.
Filip reached for her elbow. “Nadia, I was questioning my ability, not yours. Please, teach me to waltz. If anyone can teach me, you can.”
She was hesitant now, uncertain. He stood and held out a hand for her. Slowly, she accepted. Maybe, for a few moments, they could be like the other couples. Happy. Enjoying one another’s company. Wanting a love that would last.
“What do I do?” he asked.
“You’ll have to put your rifle down.”
Putting his rifle down seemed easy enough, but now it was his turn to hesitate. They’d taken several weapons caches recently, so replacing it would be possible, but that particular rifle had helped him across several thousand miles of hostile territory.
Nadia seemed to understand. “Dalek will see if anyone tries to take it. We probably will too.”
“Dalek will probably snitch it to make a nuisance of himself.”
She smiled. “He’ll have to stop playing first, so you’ll have warning.”
Filip took a deep breath and let his rifle rest against the log they’d been sitting on. “All right. Now what.”
“You take my right hand in your left. And place your right hand on my back.”
He ran his hand over her right fingers before grasping her palm. He glanced at the other dancers, not sure if he should place his other hand closer to her shoulders or the small of her back. The others weren’t uniform. Some men held the women higher, others lower. He decided on a midpoint, and she placed her free hand on his shoulder.
“It might help if you count in your head. One-two-three, one-two-three. Hear how the music has the same count?”
He nodded.
“You can hold me a little tighter. I’m not going to break.”
That was an instruction he was happy to heed. He moved forward but not too close. It was tempting to skip the dancing altogether and simply pull her into him completely. But what then? He had a good idea of what he’d like to do, but he doubted Nadia would agree.
“Move your left foot forward.” She moved back as he moved up. “Now slide your right foot to the side. And together. Now your right foot back. Left to the side. And together again.”
They made a complete circuit without him stepping on her toes, but she still had to talk him through each movement.
“Do we just do this over and over again?”
“We can. Or you can turn a bit with each step.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re facing north now. Turn to face west. There.”
“Counterclockwise?”
Her smile deepened. “Of course. I forget you were a watchmaker before you were a soldier. Do you suppose you have a better grasp on time than the rest of us do?”
Dancing was tricky enough. Now she wanted to have a conversation too? “No. I just know it keeps marching on, never at the pace we choose.” He stepped forward a little too quickly and landed on her toe. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. That’s part of learning.”
Filip counted in his head. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-crunch. He was stepping backward, so he hadn’t smashed her toe again. He stopped dancing and glanced down. A branch.
“It’s easier to learn on a dance floor.” Nadia regarded the stick. “Shall we try again?”
Filip nodded. The song couldn’t last much longer, and then perhaps he could consider his duty done. Except it was getting easier. The rhythm carried through him, and he followed it much the same way he followed a rhythm on the high bar or the pommel horse. This one was set by the music rather than the momentum of his body, but he was adjusting. And the woman he held in his arms was stunning. Her braid was neat, but enough hairs had rebelled to give it a windblown look. Her hands weren’t as soft now, but they were tempered by admirable work. And her smile seemed lit with genuine happiness.
“Have you always been such an accomplished dancer?” he asked.
“No, but I started young. My father would dance with me when I was very small. I’d stand on his boots, and he’d move me with each step. Or Alexander would simply carry me instead of placing his hand on my back.”
Dalek kept playing, even though the music was beginning to sound repetitive.
“You’re doing very well for your first time.” Nadia smiled up at him. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re a gymnast. With a little practice, I imagine you’d be wonderful at the mazurka.”
“Is that a dance?”
“Yes. A Polish folk dance. The dancers leap and jump. The ballroom version is a bit more sedate but still vigorous. Maybe we’ll try it someday.”
The way she said someday made it sound as if they had a future together. Or had he only imagined it? One-two-three, pull Nadia a little closer. One-two-three, enjoy the way her eyes looked at him as if they were friends, maybe even lovers. One-two-three, trip on a rock and listen to the melodic sound of her laughter.
Then she stumbled just a bit. Filip was supposed to step back, but he hesitated and was a bit behind the beat when he finally moved. As they turned, a bit clumsily, his lips brushed across her forehead. An accidental kiss. But he didn’t regret it, so he didn’t apologize.
Nadia’s mouth lost its smile, and her expression changed, but she didn’t pull away. What was that look? He didn’t think it was anger. Surprise? She glanced from his eyes to his mouth, and the careful time she kept with the music grew muddled. She looked away for a moment and moved her hand to tuck a stray bit of hair behind her ear. When her hand returned to its place, she put it not on his shoulder but at the collar of his uniform. One of her fingers brushed along the back of his neck.
He wanted to reciprocate. Wanted to caress her neck and her cheek, then guide her lips to his. But how would she react? Would she kiss him back or be disappointed that he’d crossed a line he’d told her he wouldn’t?
The music slowed and drew to a long, drawn-out final note. The counting in his head stopped, but he didn’t release Nadia’s hand or her back. He needed to say something. But Thank you for teaching me to dance sounded superficial, and I want our marriage to be real might scare her away. She stayed as she was, looking up at him, waiting.
Someone cleared his throat nearby, breaking the moment. “Filip?”
He released Nadia and turned to Anton. “Yes?”
“We’re late for guard duty.”
***
Nadia watched Filip retrieve his rifle and rush off with Anton. He looked back once, to give her a parting smile. She waved goodbye, and then her fingers went to the spot on her forehead where his lips had touched. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but she wasn’t sorry. And she hadn’t stopped her mind from imagining what it would be like for him to kiss her forehead again, then kiss her mouth.
She pulled her eyes from the men and joined Veronika. Dalek was putting away his violin. Another legionnaire played a harmonica, but she was ready to head back. Filip was gone, and she’d had a full day with her patients.
“Did you teach him to dance?” Veronika asked.
“I suppose.” Filip wasn’t an elegant dancer, not yet, but that hadn’t made dancing with him any less enjoyable.
Veronika seemed to be waiting for something. Nadia stayed silent for a time, then couldn’t hold it inside any longer. “I thought he might kiss me.”