Alexander didn’t budge, holding Tatiana in his arms. “Corporal,” he said, “you will look at her now.”

Sitting up on his cot, Mark sighed. “Lieutenant, it’s very late.”

“Late for what? Do you have a sheet or another bed for her?”

“A bed? What is this, a resort? Let me get you a sheet.”

Mark laid the white sheet on the ground. Alexander first kneeled with Tatiana in his arms, then set her down. Examining her, Mark peered at her head, at her scalp, at her face and teeth. He looked at her neck and lifted her arms. When he lifted her leg, Tatiana moaned louder than before.

“Ah,” said Mark. “Do you have your knife?”

Alexander gave him his knife.

She was wearing long trousers. Mark cut open one trouser leg, then the other. Alexander saw that her right ankle and the shin above it were swollen and black. “Broken shinbone,” Mark said. “So much blood on her and just this so far. It’s badly broken, though, fractured in several places. Let’s see the rest.” Unbuttoning her shirt, he cut open her once white vest and examined her chest, ribs, and stomach.

Blood stained her fragile body.

Alexander wanted to look away.

Mark sighed. “I can’t tell what’s hers, what isn’t,” he said. “Nothing on the legs is oozing fresh blood.” He touched her stomach. “You were right. She doesn’t feel clammy or cold.”

Staying back, Alexander said nothing. His heart was heavy and relieved.

“See here? She’s got three broken ribs on the right side. Where did you find her?”

“Under the train station. Under brick and dead bodies.”

“Well, that explains it. She’s lucky to be alive. Charmed, I’d say.” Mark stood up. “I have no bed for her in our hospital tent. Get her there and leave her on the ground. In the morning someone will take care of her.”

“I’m not leaving her on the ground until morning.”

“What are you worried about? She is not as injured as some of the others.” Mark shook his head. “You should see them.”

“I’m an officer in the Red Army, Corporal,” said Alexander. “I’ve seen wounded men. You’re sure you don’t have a cot for her somewhere?”

Mark shrugged. “There’s no shrapnel in her eyes, no life-threatening wounds. I’m not kicking out someone with a stomach wound to make room for her.”

“Of course not,” said Alexander.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do with her tomorrow,” Mark said. “She needs a proper hospital. Her leg needs to be set and put in a cast immediately. We certainly can’t do it here.”

Alexander shook his head. The railroad was bombed out, and the army had taken his truck. “Don’t worry about her tomorrow,” he said. “Have you got some more towels and some bandages for tonight?” Bending down, Alexander covered Tatiana with the sheet she lay on and picked her up. “And another sheet.”

Mark reluctantly went to his medic’s bag.

“What about some morphine?”

“No, Lieutenant.” He laughed. “I have no morphine for her. No morphine for a girl with some broken bones. She’ll have to live through the pain.”

Mark placed three towels and some bandages on top of Tatiana, and Alexander carried her to his tent.

After laying her down on the sheet, he pulled closed her shirt and went to the stream to get some water in a pail. When he returned, he cut a towel into small pieces, dipped one of them in the cool water, and began washing her face and hair. He cleaned her forehead and her cheeks and her eyes and her mouth. “Tatia,” he whispered, “what kind of a crazy girl are you?” Alexander saw her open her eyes. Mutely they watched each other. “Tatia,” he whispered again.

Her hand reached up to his face. “Alexander?” she said weakly, with no surprise. “Am I dreaming?”

“No,” he said.

“I must be…” She trailed off. “I was just dreaming… of your face. What’s happened?”

“You’re in my tent. What were you doing at Luga Station? It’s been destroyed by the Germans.”

Tatiana took a moment to answer. “Going back to Leningrad, I think,” she replied. “What are you doing here?”

He could have lied; he thought once he would have wanted to, feeling so angry and betrayed at the way she had discarded him. But the truth was so plain. “Looking for you.”

Her eyes filled again. “What’s happened? Why am I so cold?”

“Nothing,” he said hastily. “The medic’s assistant, Mark, had to cut open your trousers and your—”

Tatiana lifted her hands and felt through her open clothes. Alexander looked away. He had managed to pretend so well with her at Kirov, to keep his distance, but he couldn’t pretend that finding her alive and covered with blood meant nothing, that saving her meant nothing, that she meant nothing.

She brought her hand to her face and stared at the blood. “Is it my blood?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I move?”

“Your ribs are broken—”

She groaned.

“And your leg.”

“My back,” she whispered. “Something is wrong with my back.”

Anxious and concerned, Alexander said, “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. It’s burning.”

“It’s probably the ribs,” he said. “I broke a rib in the Winter War last year. It feels like your back is on fire.”

“Oozing.”

Leaving the wet rag in the bucket of water, Alexander looked into her face. “Tania, can you hear me all right?”

“Hmm.”

“Can you sit up?”

Tatiana tried to sit up. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her hands were holding her ripped tunic and undershirt together.

Alexander’s whole heart was giving out. He lifted her to a sitting position. “Let me take the clothes off you. They’re no good to you anyway; they’re all blood-soaked. You can’t wear them.”

She shook her head.

“I have to take them off you,” he said. “I will look at your back, and then I’ll clean you. You don’t want to get an infection. You will if you have open wounds. I’ll clean you, I’ll wash the blood off your hair, and then I’ll bandage your ribs and leg. You’ll feel better right away once they’re bandaged.”

She shook her head, sitting against him.

“Don’t be scared, Tania,” Alexander said. He held her to him, and after a few moments, when she didn’t say anything, he carefully took off her tunic and then her vest. Small and hurt and weak, she pressed her naked body against him; her blood-covered back was underneath his hands, and her skin felt warm. She needs me so much to take care of her, Alexander thought, gently feeling for any gashes. And I desperately need to take care of her. “Where does it hurt?”

“Where you’re touching me,” she whispered. “Right under your fingers.”

He leaned over her shoulder to take a look. Her back was grimy, but the blood was already thick. “I think you’ve probably been cut. I’ll wash your back in a minute, but I think you’re all right.” Alexander pressed her head against his chest. His lips pressed against her damp hair.

He lowered her onto the white sheet. Her hands covered her breasts, and she closed her eyes. “Tatiasha,” Alexander said, “I need to clean you.”

Her eyes remained closed. “Let me do it myself,” she whispered.

“All right,” he said, “but you can’t even sit up by yourself.”

She didn’t reply at first. “Give me a wet towel, and I’ll do it myself.”

“Tatia, let me take care of you.” He stopped and took a breath. “Please. Don’t be afraid. I will never hurt you.”

“I know that,” she muttered, unable or unwilling to open her eyes.

“I tell you what,” Alexander said. “Don’t worry. Stay like that. I’ll—wash around you.”

He washed her hair, her arms, her stomach, and the top of her chest, all under the glimmering light of a kerosene lamp in the corner of the tent. Tatiana groaned loudly when he touched her blackened rib cage.

As he cleaned her, Alexander soothingly whispered, “One of these days, just one, I’m not saying now, but soon, maybe you can explain to me what you were doing in a train station during bombing. All right? I want you to think about what you’re going to tell me. Look how lucky you are. Move your arms a bit. After I dry you, I’ll bandage your ribs. They’ll heal on their own in a few weeks. You’ll be as good as new.”