No Greater Love - Eris Field Page 0,2

his raincoat, Pieter tried again. “Do you know if he’s home?”

She leveled a cool look at him and nodded.

Pieter eyed the snow covering the distance from the street where he stood to the porch and shrugged. He was going to have very cold feet.

Suddenly a plastic snow shovel landed in front of him. “It would go better if we both work at it.”

He hesitated for a moment and then picked up the shovel and began to copy her graceful movements—push, lift, throw.

Janan worked quickly as questions flew through her mind. The man from the liquor store with the aristocratic Dutch accent. Not the Dutch of her adoptive parents. Not the Dutch that Carl spoke. Who was he? Why had he come? Was he another relative come to plague Carl? She lifted her head just in time to see the man slump silently to the ground.

Dimly aware of something woolly under his head, Pieter was reluctant to open his eyes. He wanted to savor the sensation of absolute peace for a few more moments. Then he felt smooth, cool hands on his face and a body leaning over him.

“Oh good! You’re breathing on your own.”

He dragged his eyelids open to see a beautiful mouth hovering over his. “I could stop,” he whispered.

“You’re not well.” The eyes staring down at him were accusing.

“I know.”

“I asked you to shovel,” she whispered as a stricken look crossed her face.

“I tried.” He felt her collapse on top of him. Strands of silky hair clinging to his chin and tears cold against his neck.

“I could’ve killed you!” she wailed.

“But you didn’t.” His arms came up awkwardly at first and then they settled around her holding her close. He looked up at the gray sky and smiled against a cloud of almond-scented hair. He was holding the most enchanting woman in the world in his arms. He could feel small, firm breasts pressed against him and, in response to the slim knee that was pressed between his legs, he experienced a stirring that he had not felt in a long time.

She scrambled to her feet. “I’ll call for help. You need to be evaluated.”

“I am going to spend all day tomorrow in a hospital being evaluated.” He sat up slowly and picked up the cap that had been under his head. “Thank you,” he said formally, holding the cap out to her and then grasped the hand she held out to him to help him to his feet.

Janan scowled at him as she pulled one of his arms over her shoulder and put her arm around his waist to help him up the steps. “You could have told me that you were not well,” she said gruffly.”

As she pushed open the heavy front door, Carl called from his usual seat by the fireplace in the living room, his voice fretful, “Were you able to get the Jenever? I did so want to have some to offer the dear boy when he gets here.”

Before Janan could answer, Pieter took the bottle from his pocket and handed it to her. The sudden softening of her expression as she gazed inquiringly at him sent a wave of unfamiliar anticipation through him. Motioning her to go inside, he stepped back onto the porch to wait a few minutes before ringing the bell.

“Pieter, my dear boy. It’s so good to see you.” The old man limped to the door to greet Pieter with the Dutch traditional ‘three kisses on the cheeks’ salute and then hugged him. “I got your letter and could hardly believe that you were coming. It seems like ages since I saw you. Come in, come in. Let me take your coat.”

As he stood in the tiny vestibule taking off his coat, Pieter studied the space opening off of it automatically comparing it to Dutch homes. No dividing walls, his mind registered. An oak dining room table surrounded by six chairs took up the left side, and on the right, a living room area with a stone fireplace flanked by well-used Morris chairs fitted with brown tweed cushions and their matching ottomans. He let out a sigh. If only I could sink into one of those chairs and never move, he thought as he maneuvered around a Shaker-style cherry rocking chair and a tea table facing the fireplace. The glow of the old red Bokara rug supplied the only bright color in the room and he nodded in approval as he contrasted it in his mind with the muted