Citadels of Fire

  ***

  When they reached the Andreev estate outside of Moscow, the gates were barred. One of the guards went to enquire if anyone knew of Inga’s coming. She and Taras waited outside for more than half an hour. Finally, two people approached. One sat on horseback, riding sidesaddle. The other lead the horse. The spectacle reminded Inga of a scene from the New Testament: Joseph leading Mary toward Bethlehem.

  As they neared, and the gates opened, Inga’s face split into a smile. She couldn’t help it. Natalya rode the horse, and Inga recognized the man leading it as Natalya’s husband of nearly a year, Alexander. He was a tall, stocky man, well-muscled, but with the face of a kindly, old clergyman. He could not have been much older than Taras, but his face made him look older.

  Natalya looked radiant. Her platok was still in place, mirroring Inga’s, and she had something Inga did not expect—a bump around the middle.

  Inga dismounted as Alexander helped Natalya to the ground. The two women threw their arms around each other, laughing and screeching.

  “Inga, I’ve missed you so much,” Natalya screamed.

  “And I you.” Inga pulled back to place a hand on Natalya’s stomach. “You’re with child.”

  “Yes!”

  They screeched and hugged again. Meanwhile, Taras crossed to Alexander, who held out his hand.

  “Alexander Nikitin.”

  “Taras Demidov.” The two men clasped forearms, then chuckled together at the two women jumping up and down and screaming.

  When they’d calmed themselves, Inga turned to Taras. “Will you come to collect me in a few days?”

  He nodded. “Three days, in the evening?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will be here.” He handed her the reins of the stock horse and their hands brushed briefly. “Until then.”

  She smiled at him, hoping her eyes communicated her feelings. He smiled back before turning to go. Mounting his horse, he walked it until he stood outside the gates to avoid kicking up too much dust. Then he spurred Jasper into a gallop. Inga watched until he was out of sight.