Magda watched her niece cross the yard to the Dvorovoi’s shrine. There was a confidence in her step that had not been there when she had arrived two months earlier. Perhaps it was not the girl’s fault. Perhaps she could not help making Magda look like a bad housewife any more than she could help the dimples that appeared in her cheeks whenever she smiled. Magda scraped a knife down the dinner plate in her hand.
“Fewer scraps for the pig now Anya does the cooking,” Oleg said as he came to stand beside her.
“The pig does well enough,” Magda said.
“Yes. Everything’s done well since the girl came.”
Magda drew the knife down the plate again in a long shuddering scrape. “I told you it needed two women to run this place properly.”
Oleg grunted. “True enough. I'm glad I let you talk me into taking her in.”
He settled in front of the fire with his pipe. Magda continued watching. Her hands were no longer sore, and her back no longer threatened to grow stiff and hunched like an old Babushka’s since Anya did the chores, but no one noticed how soft her skin had become or her supple grace.
“Everyone loves Anya,” she muttered.
“The Dvorovoi certainly does. I’ve never known the livestock do so well.” Oleg chuckled.
“So he should the time she spends out there! And I’ll remind you that that’s my silver comb dangling out there to please him.”
Oleg sighed. “I haven’t forgotten my promise. When I sell the calf, I’ll get you a new one.”
“Hm... ” The knife screeched down the plate again. In the corner of the yard Magda could just catch the flash of sunshine on Anya’s rippling hair.
“Better make the most of the girl,” Oleg sucked on his pipe. “I doubt we’ll keep her here long.”
The knife stopped halfway. “What do you mean?”
“Someone’ll be round here asking to marry her soon.”
Magda snorted. “Some village bumpkin with no money to keep her and no prospects.”
Oleg tapped the side of his nose. “Not such a bumpkin if you ask me..”
“You mean... who?”
Oleg chuckled. “You women claim to know all these things, yet you don’t see what’s under your nose. Who is it that’s been mooning around here every chance he gets?”
Magda’s eyes widened. “Niko? But he comes to see... ” She checked herself.
“To see the calf?” Oleg dismissed the idea with a half-smile.
“It’s impossible!”
“Why?”
Magda’s mouth opened and closed.
Oleg continued. “You’ve seen how he looks at her. Has done since that first day.”
“Impossible!” Magda’s expression solidified. “Nikolai’s father would never let him marry a peasant from the forest. No, I shall speak to her--leading the young men on. If she disgraces us, she’ll have to go back to her parents.” Magda set the plate down hard enough to crack it and stalked outside. Her anger was an icy hand around her throat choking off her breath. She was not even aware that she still carried the knife.
As she approached the Dvorovoi’s shrine she heard voices. She slipped into the barn, and peeped through a gap in the shutters. At first she thought Anya was talking to the Dvorovoi.
“Are you sure there’s no other way?”
Magda followed the girl’s supplicating gaze. There was a shadow of movement beyond the shrine. The answering voice left no doubt.
“Your aunt would never let us marry. She’d send you back to the forest or worse.” Nikolai! Magda felt the air buzz around her as if the venom in his voice had poisoned her. She steadied herself against the wall.
“But why?” Anya’s voice sang with innocence.
Magda could not see Nikolai’s face. His hand reached out to caress one of the strands of Anya’s hair. Anya caught it in her own.
“She’s not a bad person.”
“Truly, Anya, she... I blush to say it, but she’s tried to get me for herself. As if I could ever love one whose heart is so sour and old. I felt sorry for her before you came, but once I saw how she treats you.... When you came in the barn that first day with your silken hair and angel’s eyes, she was like a crow beside you and she knows it. I tell you we must elope... it’s the only way.”
Anya bowed her head, blushing. A breeze stirred the offerings on the shrine making the silver comb flash in the sunlight.
“There! The Dvorovoi agrees... you must say ‘yes’!”
Anya stared at the comb, her cheeks flushed. She nodded.
“Tomorrow then. I’ll wait half an hour after the light goes out then tap on your window.”
Anya nodded again. Magda sank to the floor. She heard a movement, as if it was more than the breeze that kissed Anya’s cheek. A crow--he had called her a crow! He scorned her! Magda could live with that perhaps, but her rival had defended her. Angel indeed! The girl was full of selfishness and deceit--pretending to honor the Dvorovoi when all the time she was enjoying disgraceful trysts with her lover! No doubt when she went to her room at night she laughed at them all. Magda punctuated each unbearable thought by raking the knife in the earth floor. She would have to teach Anya how to behave; show her to the world for what she was. Magda stared at the floor a moment, then slowly withdrew the knife. She looked from the blade, outside to the dazzling sunshine on the long golden river of Anya’s hair.
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