beasts and I’d killed one the night we found no barn to rest in. It would be harder once I ran out of bullets.
“My husband is a cavalry officer.” My hand shook. Could I even fire upon a fellow human?
“Could be your late husband, now. I hear Reds are killing White officers all over.”
All at once my breath seemed cut off. Afon? “There’s a new rumor every day.”
He stepped closer and the light from the window shone on the dark wool of his coat, a uniform overcoat I knew so well, of the army.
“You’re right. Probably all made up. But, he’s not here, is he? Must be staying warm with a new ladylove himself. You know soldiers.” He smiled. “Cocks hard at all times.”
“I’d rather sleep with a pig than a deserter.”
His smile faded. “I’m not stupid enough to end up as one of the glorious dead.”
“You’re a coward.”
He lunged at me and I fired. Jarushka screamed and skittered as the bullet grazed the man’s hand. How hasty and stupid that shot.
“Jesus Christ,” he said, clutching his palm.
He lunged toward me again.
I took a deep breath and fired once more, this time taking careful aim at his chest.
My whole body went cold as the man fell back on the barn floor and I stood, barely breathing, two fingers to my lips.
Crows cackled outside and the scent of gunpowder hung in the air. Was he dead? I stood there, strangely numb, and watched the blood pool out from under him and seep into the hay like a dark nest. I knelt by his side and placed my hand on his chest, where my fingers met sticky blood. Felt his neck. No pulse. He was already cooling, there in the cold morning air.
Had I really killed someone? The worst sin there was. He might have killed me if I hadn’t acted and who would save Max?
Trying to step around the blood, I unbuttoned his coat, pulled the gun from the waistband of his trousers and checked the chamber. He was right about not having bullets. I pocketed the gun, searched his coat pockets, and found a handful of white-paper-wrapped sugar cubes. I considered taking his boots, but they were much too big and my stomach lurched at the thought of touching him again.
Should I say a prayer? Why? God had stopped listening to me long ago.
I led Jarushka out into the bright morning, and we were soon on our way. Still vibrating with the aftershocks of the encounter, I brushed away thoughts of the man’s cooling body. Who would make that grim discovery? Had he been right about the White officers captured? I would have to soldier on for Max no matter what.
As we rode, enjoying the morning sun, I felt the sugar cubes in my pocket and sat a little straighter in my seat. Now not only a thief, but a cold-blooded killer as well.
* * *
—
TWO WEEKS AFTER I killed the man in the barn, Jarushka and I came to the outskirts of Krasnodar. Though a bitter wind greeted us, I urged my horse along, we were home.
I could feel Afon’s presence there as we rode past the magnificent St. Catherine’s Cathedral with its golden dome and seven altars. I urged Jarushka down side roads in case Red Army soldiers were in town. Were Mr. and Mrs. Zaitz still running their apothecary?
We passed the bridge Afon and I had stood on as newlyweds and approached Main Street. We rode by many new shops and restaurants and shuttered storefronts as well, but my whole body warmed when I saw the old pharmacy still there, wedged between newer shops. The green-and-white sign hung out front as it always had: Zaitz Apothecary.
I entered and found the place unchanged, the glass apothecary jars lined up behind the counter with mortar and pestles of all sizes. The old cash register sat on the counter, still polished bright. An upright piano on the far wall. A table holding a green blotter stood in the middle of the room, with all the necessities of correspondence.
I stepped to the counter and found Mr. Zaitz pouring powder through a funnel into a glass bottle. Would he remember me? It had been over five years and my appearance had changed markedly. They would remember Afon, certainly. Though we’d left shortly after it happened, Afon had helped them through a massive pogrom, when railway men and sailors and even some fellow merchants terrorized the Jewish families in town. Afon had called