“That tuft of hair at the front.” She pointed to his hairline. It was a phrase used in English, but perhaps there was no Russian equivalent.

“You say the oddest things sometimes.” He smiled.

It was hard to think that Stepan would never know his Romanov grandparents, and had lost almost all his relatives before he was born. Her grief still lurked, and sometimes the tears fell while she cared for her child. He was a serious soul, who looked up at her as if wondering about the source of her sorrow. Having him to look after helped to distract her, though. Sometimes an hour or two went by when she did not think of Anastasia or Alexei, and then she felt guilty, because it was still less than a year since they were murdered. If only they could have met their miraculous nephew!

“Why was he early?” she asked Peter one day. “I had thought he would be born in June.”

“He knew you needed him,” Peter replied. “Look how much he has helped you. Before he arrived, I had never heard you laugh.”

Maria couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Will you write to your mother and tell her of the birth of her grandson?” she asked.

He made a face. “I imagine the authorities will be keeping watch on her mail deliveries. They know that I ran off with you and I’m sure they will be trying to find us.”

Maria felt sad at that. “Is there no way we can get word to her?”

“Perhaps I will post a letter from some faraway place, so that if they search for us there, they will not find a clue to our whereabouts.” He nodded to himself, mulling it over.

“And you must tell her that we are married. I want her to know that.”

“She and my sister will want all the details . . . I will write a letter and mail it next time the farmer sends me to a distant market.”

A day later, he showed Maria the letter he had composed. It was the first time she had seen his handwriting, and it was better than she had expected from one who had received little schooling. His spelling was poor, but she had no trouble making out the words. He told his mother that he had fallen in love with Maria while guarding the Romanov family at the Ekaterinburg house. He explained that he had seized the chance to rescue her and that they were now married and had a beautiful son together.

At the end of the letter there were two sentences that moved Maria to tears: I miss you badly, Mama, and my sister too, but I want you to know that I am happy. If I could turn back time to that July morning when I pulled Maria from the truck and ran into the forest, I would do exactly the same thing again.

Chapter 18

Outskirts of Perm, June 1919