After making love to her once more before leaving via the tree outside her window, Katarina had been left to her own thoughts and of course it was impossible to sleep. Despite her father and brother's shielding her from the situation in their country, she was well aware of the political situation due to her clandestine conversations with Mikhail. Slipping her nightgown on once again, she looked at the picture above the fireplace which was still cheerfully illuminated by the fire still burning in the hearth.
It was a painting of her mother. She barely remembered the beautiful woman with rich brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her mother had died when she was only four and the few memories of her that she had were from when she had been confined to bed, wasting away with consumption. Her most vivid memory of her was when she had been taken to her mother to say goodbye. She remembered her mother holding her close, speaking breathlessly. It had always sounded as if she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. "I love you so. Be a strong girl, my little Katia." Only her mother had ever called her that. Her father had added, his own voice hoarse with tears, "Yes, you must be a good girl for your mama, Katarina." Her mother had scowled, "And, why does she have to be good? She should live life without any boundaries!" After that her mother had gone into a coughing fit so she had been taken from the room. She hadn't seen her mother alive again.
The next day, Mikhail came to their home before breakfast had even been set out and he had spoken to her father and brother. Her father had been reluctant to leave the city, even after Mikhail had spoken to him of the urgency of the situation. It wasn't that he was didn't believe what Mikhail was telling him — although it was astonishing to think that they were abandoning Moscow, the spiritual capital of Russia — his reluctance stemmed from the fact that everything that they owned was here — their family home, their main offices, their warehouses, their very livelihood! Katarina's father had no doubt that their warehouses and home would be looted and they would be left with nothing. It took him some time to listen to reason, and in the end it was only her brother's insistence that it wasn't safe and Mikhail's assurance that he would see the family back on their feet after the war that swayed her father's mind.
Mikhail assured her that he would see them safely away before he left with his unit and then left her with a chaste kiss to the cheek. While they left to salvage what they could from the business offices she and Raya took care of things at home. Anything of any worth that could be easily transported was packed away along with foodstuff. There was no time to be frivolous so the only personal effects she took with her was her mother's portrait and a small book of love poems that Nikolai had given her.
By the time her father and brother returned with the wagon with the false bottom that the business sometimes used to transport costly cargo, she was dressed in the simple grey wool gown that she used when the streets were muddy and she had laid out simple clothes for her father and brother. She knew that they couldn't appear to be wealthy out on the open road where they could be accosted by anyone. If they hadn't been such urgency in the situation her father and brother might have been astonished with how well she was handling the situation.
Even as she helped Raya to pack their candlesticks holders, silverware, and jewelry away where it wouldn't be found under the false bottom to the wagon, she kept her eyes out for her Misha. She had no doubts that he would come, he had said he would. By the time she and the housekeeper were through packing her father and brother had come out and started to put the heavier boxes of food and supplies onto the wagon.
Her father looked at her simple clothes and cloak approvingly as he helped her and Raya up into the wagon bed before he went to sit next to her brother who was already at the front with the reigns in hand. Even as her brother made a clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth and snapped on the reigns, she continued to look out for Mikhail.
Up until this point she had remained calm, but as they started to pull away from her home she started to feel a rising sense of panic. Where was he? How would they find each other again?
Right when the fear and alarm started to bubble up in her chest, threatening to turn into a sob she heard horse's hooves in the distance and then saw Mikhail racing towards them crying out, "Katarina!". She cried out then, "Stop!" Her brother hadn't even had a chance to pull at the reigns before she leapt off the back of the wagon, hiked up her skirts, and ran towards Mikhail who had already dismounted and was rushing towards her.
He snatched her up in his arms and — propriety be damned —he kissed her long and passionately as he lifted her up against him. As their mouths met each other hungrily she didn't care about the fact that her family was watching. She was lost in the taste of him as his tongue moved urgently against her own, both of them holding each other so tightly that it was as if they wanted to devour each other, to become one.
It was finally the lack of oxygen that made them break the kiss and he held her close and whispered breathlessly in her ear, his voice hoarse with the tears he was holding back. "I thought…I thought I had missed you." She buried her face against his neck and whispered, "You will never lose me, my Misha."
He nodded and finally put her down, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed back tears. She didn't hold back and was openly crying. Looking at her he whispered, "I will find you. Your father told me where you are going and I will find you when this is all done." She could only nod, afraid that if she spoke, she would ask him to abandon the army and come with her. She couldn't do that to him. Reaching into his pocket he took out a small satin pouch and whispered, "Inside are my mother's pearls and her and my father's wedding rings. Keep them safe for me? They are for our wedding day." She nodded and clutched the pouch in her tiny hands which were shaking with emotion.
Misinterpreting why his hands were shaking, he whispered, "You are cold. That wool coat will do nothing to keep you warm." He removed the fur-lined coat that was part of his uniform and he wrapped it around her. When she opened her lips to protest, he put his finger on her lips to stop her. "I have another." She knew that the coat didn't fit in with the image that she and her family were trying to portray, but it was warm and smelled just like him.
He leaned down and gave her one last gentle, loving kiss before whispering against her lips. "I love you. I will find you."
She nodded and said nothing as he turned, ran back to his horse and raced away again.