"Naya," he called out in the dark. "Yes?" Her voice was small and shivering. "Bring your pillow out here," he said. There was a silence, a hesitation.
"It is freezing," Elias said. "We are two fools freezing in two beds when there is warmth in one." He heard the rustle of straw ticking. The curtain moved. Naya appeared in the gloom, clutching her pillow.
She walked to the cot. Elias scooted to the edge, making room against the wall. She lay down beside him. They were both fully clothed, wrapped in layers of wool and flannel. She lay with her back to him, stiff at first.
Elias pulled the heavy buffalo robe and his wool blanket over both of them. He could feel the cold radiating off her. He hesitated, then draped an arm over her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She did not stiffen. She let out a long breath and relaxed into him, fitting her body against his.
"Better?" he whispered. "Yes," she whispered back. They slept that way for a week, just for warmth. But in the dark, the barriers eroded. They began to talk, wrapped in the cocoon of the blankets, with the world shut out.
They whispered things they could not say in the light of day. Elias told her about his childhood in Ohio, about the green fields that seemed like a dream now. Naya told him about the summer dances of her youth before the soldiers came, about the smell of pine resin and roasting meat. One night, Naya turned in his arms to face him. Her face was inches from his in the shadows.
"Elias," she said. He hummed a response, half asleep. "My body," she said, "it feels different." "Different how?" "Are you sick?"
"No, not sick, awake." She took his hand and placed it on her stomach, over the layers of her nightdress. "I told you I was a dead branch," she said, "but maybe maybe the sap is running again. I feel strong. I feel like the winter is over inside me."
Elias went still. He knew what she was asking. She was telling him that she wanted to try. She wanted the child she had promised him at the auction, not as a bargaining chip, but as a hope. A cold stone of fear dropped into Elias's stomach.
He pulled his hand away gently. "Naya, a child?" "Here? Now? Why not?" she challenged, her voice sharpening.
"You said you wanted a family." "I do," Elias said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "I do, but look at us. Look at where we live." He looked down at her.