Among the Tulips by Cheryl Wolverton Page B

stopped.
    Victor got out and came around to help Annie out.
    â€œWow,” was all she said as she positioned the crutches and slowly swung her way toward the windmill.
    â€œLook at the size of that thing. Look at the landscape around it. Aren’t those wildflowers beautiful?”
    It was like watching a child who’d been taken into a candy shop. Her gaze was everywhere, trying to take in everything and impressed by what she saw.
    They walked around the windmill as well as going inside. When they came back out, he was grinning. “Not as impressive as you hoped?”
    â€œI’m not sure what I expected,” she replied. “I definitely wasn’t impressed.”
    He wanted to impress her, he thought. “You like the flowers?” he asked waving his hand toward the field of wildflowers growing abundantly and unhindered.
    She nodded. “I don’t live out in the countrywhere there are wildflowers. And we certainly don’t have these types in Louisiana.”
    He grinned. “Just a minute.”
    â€œWhat—” she started, but he ignored her.
    Going off the path, he headed out into the field.
    â€œCan you do that on private property? Will you get into trouble?” she called.
    He laughed. “Laws are different here, Annie.”
    He bent down and started picking some of the white and pink wildflowers, gathering a beautiful bouquet for her.
    â€œOh dear!” She sounded distressed and excited both.
    He glanced at her and waved. “Don’t worry,” he called out as he moved farther into the field to get some of the larger flowers. He glanced at her as he did, smiling broadly.
    â€œWatch out!” she shouted.
    â€œIt’s fine. Honest-t-agh!” He lost his footing on a rut or something.
    Windmilling his hands, he tried to catch his balance and failed, falling headlong into a huge mud pit.
    â€œOh dear!”
    He heard her shouted distress from where he lay, but, instead of being angry at his stupid maneuver, he began to laugh.
    Pushing himself up, he noted he’d managed tokeep the flowers clean. If he’d sacrificed them, he probably would have missed most of the water in the puddle. Ah, what some people did trying to be gallant.
    He stood and held up the bouquet.
    She gasped as she took in the wet left side of him that was muddy and slimy, and then a giggle escaped.
    And another.
    By the time he got back to her, she was laughing as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
    â€œYour flowers, Annie Hooper,” he said graciously and bowed slightly.
    â€œThank you, Mr. Rivers,” she replied happily.
    She gazed at the bouquet, the windmill forgotten, touching each tender petal with her long delicate fingers. “They’re beautiful. I plan to take these home with me as a memory to cherish.”
    Her words warmed him right down to the depths of his empty, hurting soul. “I only need to think of how you look right now to have a memory of today.”
    Her gaze lifted to his and he saw the sparkle in her eyes before she glanced away. “We should get back home so you can change,” she murmured.
    He did his best to ignore what he’d seen in her eyes and simply nodded. “Yeah, I’m beginning to feel chilled. It’s maybe fifteen degrees out today.”
    At her confused look, he added, “Celsius.”
    â€œThat’s right. Kilometers, Celsius. So many differences.”
    They both made their way back to the vehicle.
    Once they were inside, the driver returned to the house. Victor realized it was almost lunchtime. They’d been gone longer than he’d thought.
    â€œI’ll go in and shower and ask Cook to prepare lunch. Sandwiches. If you’d like to dine in thirty minutes that’d be good for me.”
    She nodded. “I don’t think I’ll change. I want to keep the sweater on,” she said, rubbing the soft arms and smiling. “This is absolutely