“I have done no such thing,” he said softly. “Merely introduced myself. The colt will come when he’s ready.”
Sophie watched the colt circle Piotr and the mare, tossing its head. Finally, it inched closer, its nose almost touching Piotr’s shirt. Piotr didn’t move, merely continued to stroke the mare’s neck, speaking quiet words. The colt moved closer still, and Piotr shifted his hand from the mare to the colt. It shied away. Piotr returned his attention to the mare.
“He’s skittish,” Sophie said.
“No,” Piotr murmured. “Trust needs to be earned. He is only reminding me of that fact.”
The colt came back toward Piotr. This time it didn’t shy when Piotr lifted his hand. He rested his palm on the colt’s withers for only a few seconds before removing it. The colt lowered its head and took another step closer.
“There you are,” Piotr breathed. He ran a hand along the back of the colt with slow, gentle movements. “Trust cannot be a single-sided affair. One day, this horse might be asked to do the impossible. Charge into a situation when every instinct he possesses is telling him to flee the opposite way. But he will do what you’ve asked because you have earned his trust. Trust is everything.”
He dropped his hand and stepped away from both the mare and the colt to join Sophie and slip an arm around her.
She laid her head on his shoulder, a quiet ache constricting her heart. She wished that she could stay in this perfect moment forever but she could feel time slipping away from her. From them. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she whispered.
“You’re the one who stole a car from the Foreign Office and needs to return it before they come looking.”
“I didn’t steal it, I borrowed it. I’ll have it back before they even know it’s gone. And what I do with my days off are my business. Don’t change the subject.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “My regiment isn’t even mobilized.”
Sophie grimaced. “But they were.”
“Everyone was, for a day. And now we’re not. It seems it is just a great deal of hurry-up-and-waiting for something that might never happen. Most of the boys in the squadron don’t think we will see action.”
“Most of the boys in your squadron haven’t heard what I’ve heard in the embassy,” Sophie muttered.
“Hitler is ambitious and arrogant, yes, but he is not stupid. I have to believe that he will not risk war with Britain and France by pushing into Poland.”
“I’m not so sure, Piotr. I’m worried.”
Piotr turned to face her. “I know. I am too.”
Sophie sighed and watched the mare and her colt wander away a few paces. “I’m sorry. We agreed that we wouldn’t talk of politics and war in what little time we have here—”
“Don’t apologize.” He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Maybe we should. Maybe we need to talk about what should happen if the Germans do decide to do something stupid.”
She frowned.
“I think you should leave Poland.”
“What? No.”
“Just until things settle—”
“And go where?”
“To France, at least. From there you’d still be able to get back to England in case—”
“No. My home is where you are.”
“I want you safe.”
“I will be safe. I’ll be in Warsaw. Where I’m needed. Where, in my own small way, I can still contribute to whatever diplomatic efforts are being made to avoid disaster.” She stepped forward and slipped her hands around his waist. “I will not run, and you will not send me away. We are in this together, come what may.”
“But if the worst happens—if there is war—I need to know you are all right.”
“I’ll be fine—”
“Promise me that you will do the smart thing when the time comes, Sophie. That you will take care of yourself and not do anything foolish.”
“Piotr—”
“Promise me.” His demand was urgent.
Sophie bit her lip. “I promise.”
“Thank you.” Piotr rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t really think you’d agree to go.”
“Good. I’m glad we got that settled.” The breeze gusted, and she shivered.
“May I at least take you inside and warm you up?” he asked.
“Mmm. I like that idea much better.”
Arm in arm, they started back toward the hotel. The dappled mare was cropping grass just ahead, her colt dancing in playful circles around her.
Sophie’s stomach growled. “What do you think the chances are we might find something to eat—”
The mare’s head came up abruptly, her ears pricked, her attention riveted in the direction of the hotel.
Sophie stopped, Piotr along with her, but she could see nothing in the shadowed carriage yard that might have alarmed the mare. In the street beyond, a dog started barking incessantly, joined by a handful more. Sophie frowned. The mare snorted and backed away, head high and nostrils flaring, before breaking into a canter toward the end of the pasture, her foal at her heels. And as the sound of the mare’s pounding hooves faded, Sophie heard the engines.
She didn’t understand where they were coming from at first. Her mind did not immediately register the high-pitched whine of rapidly descending planes until a flash of light in the southwestern sky caught her attention. She stared dumbly as the spots became larger and louder, approaching the village.
“Are those ours?” she whispered.
“No,” Piotr croaked.
The first bomb detonated somewhere in the center of the village, the muffled thump and roar followed by a series of explosions. Smoke and dust billowed into the air and still the planes came, the white-and-black crosses painted on the undersides of the wings now visible. More explosions followed, a never-ending string of destruction that shook the ground. And through that, the chilling sounds of rapid gunfire.
“They’re strafing the streets,” Piotr shouted, yanking Sophie forward. “We need to find cover.”
They ran from the pasture, Sophie’s heart in her throat and terror clawing at her insides. She scrambled through the pasture gate, scraping her hands on the wood. The hem of her dress snagged on a nail as the planes screamed their approach. Desperately, she yanked herself free and pushed herself away from the gate, breathing hard. Piotr was beside her, urging her to run faster. She had taken only two steps forward when the hotel abruptly disintegrated before her eyes. Stone was hurled into the air, and the force of the explosion threw her back against the gate and then to the ground.
The breath was knocked from her, and as she gasped for air a cloud of roiling dust enveloped her, filling her mouth and her nose and making her gag. She turned onto her stomach, ignoring the searing pain in her ribs, and dragged herself farther back into the pasture, past splinters of railings and posts. Disoriented, she pushed herself to her knees, and then to her feet, pressing her hands to her ears. The world had gone strangely silent, a distant ringing replacing the shriek of the planes.
The dust was clearing, though flames and smoke still billowed heavenward, smears of horror against what once promised to be a perfect September sky. The space where the hotel had been was just a pile of scattered brick and timbers, only the northern wall jutting up like a broken tooth. Sophie staggered forward. Where was Piotr?