Among the Tulips

by Cheryl Wolverton

  She forced a breath in and then said, “I really can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

  He shook his head. “We need to talk.”

  He waited and stared at her.

  She wasn’t sure what he wanted.

  Disconcerted, he tilted his head. “Do you have any questions for me?” he finally asked as if he knew something she didn’t.

  She thought a moment and then slowly nodded. Dropping her eyes, she asked, “Do they arrest foreigners for what happened today? I mean I hit some man with my car—where is he, by the way?”

  “That’s your question?” He sounded surprised.

  She lifted her gaze to meet his and found something akin to amazement, or maybe it was perturbed shock, on his face. “I want to go home,” she added, thinking perhaps that was what he was wanting to hear.

  He let out a breath and simply glanced past her for a moment as if centering his thoughts.

  “You’re too banged up to travel. The doctor is willing to release you only if someone watches you for the next forty-eight hours.”

  “But I didn’t come here with anyone.”

  “I know that. I’ve been on the phone making arrangements. I have a large house. You can stay with me—”

  “I don’t even know you.” Annie leaned back, slightly stunned that he would suggest such a thing.

  Okay, now why had that shocked him so much? His mouth fell open. He started to say something and then paused, getting that same strange look on his face that he had had a few minutes ago. Finally he gazed back at her. “I’m the one you were in the wreck with.”

  “But the man—the one who was yelling? You’re the one who helped me.”

  Confused, she shook her head. Something wasn’t adding up.

  “He was angry that a tourist was blocking his business. He was easily paid off with a large order for meat.” Victor grinned slightly before the serious look returned. “No, Annie. I was coming into town to buy some paints, and a dog ran out in front of me. I cut right in front of you and caused the head-on.”

  She gaped as her mind tried to process what had really happened. She still couldn’t remember a thing other than driving down the street and then opening her eyes and finding herself injured. “Are you okay?” she asked weakly. She had leaned so heavily on this gentleman throughout her ordeal that she hadn’t even noticed whether he’d been hurt.

  “I have a much better car than yours. My air bag deployed. I’m a little stiff. But to answer your question, I’m fine. It’s you who was injured.”

  “I am so sorry,” Annie said, horrified. “You’ve been so nice. I’ve relied on you and now—”

  “Now I’m inviting you to my house,” he said, interrupting her. “Since it was my fault, not yours, there’s no reason to keep apologizing and every reason for me to make it up to you by giving you a place to stay while you’re here recovering.”

  He reached out and took her hand, lifting it and wrapping both of his hands around it again. Then he allowed his eyes to drift upward, over the planes of her face until they finally locked with her own brown eyes, and he said simply, “You’ll need someone who can interpret for you over the next few days while we get all of this sorted out.”

  Annie nodded. “But I don’t know you.”

  He shook his head slightly, started to say something and then let it go.

  “The doctor does. Everyone in this small town does,” he said. “If you need references, ask the doctor if I’m safe.”

  At that moment an older man came walking up with a chart in his hands.

  Victor dropped Annie’s hand and turned toward the doctor. They proceeded to have a rapid-fire conversation in Dutch.

  “Like the doctor would understand me if I asked him,” Annie muttered.

  Evidently she’d muttered it too loudly because both men turned toward her. “Ask me what?” the older man said in heavily accented English.

  “You speak—”

  “—English? Yes. There are few of us in town who do.” He smiled. “I’m Dr. Gaulkner.”

  “She wants to know if it’s safe to stay with me until she recovers,” Victor interjected into the conversation before Annie could say anything.

  The doctor lifted his eyebrows and turned toward Victor. He laughed outright. “Safe? Now what a question. Many people, they would appreciate to answer that.”

  Turning back to Annie he said, “He is more safe than staying in an hotel alone. And if that no reassures you, I’ll give you mine home phone number where that you can contact me. You should be grateful that Victor, he is taking such time out of his schedule to tend for you.”

  He smiled at Victor. “If you have the questions about mine instructions I’ve given you for her, you ring me.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Annie.

  It was a set of numbers.

  “Mine number. Ring me up.”

  He turned and walked away.

  “Wait. How much do I owe? Where do I pay? Do you take travelers’ checks?” She gasped, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh, no, they’re in the car!” Panic built again.

  “It’s already taken care of,” Victor said. Catching her hand, he pulled her attention back to him. “I had my driver, who wasn’t driving me at the time, by the way, go by and collect your things. Leaving them in an unattended vehicle wouldn’t be wise.”

  He continued to hold her hand, stroking it gently.

  She noticed that.

  And he had a way of using his eyes that captured and held her attention.

  He was a very physical person.

  Nervously, she licked her lips.

  He smiled slightly, noticing the gesture.

  “I’m indebted to you,” she said simply.

  “Consider it payback for the wreck I caused,” he corrected with an odd look on his face.

  Finally, she nodded.

  “You know, you’re not what I expected,” he murmured softly.

  “Oh?” she asked.

  He glanced down at her neck.

  She fingered the small cross, not understanding.

  He obviously wasn’t going to explain. He changed the subject. “Can you stand and move into the wheelchair?”

  “Where are my clothes?” she asked, a bit of a blush working its way to her cheeks at having to ask a stranger such a question.

  He pointed and she nearly groaned when she realized they were next to her on the end of the bed.

  “Let me change,” she said, embarrassed that a stranger was standing here, helping her and she was dressed in next to nothing.

  He nodded and stepped past the partition, pulling it closed to give her some privacy.

  She took stock of her body. She already had some darkening areas on her chest. And her neck and shoulders hurt too. As a matter of fact, her lower back hurt, she realized as she dropped her skirt over her head and buttoned it around her waist. But the pain was pretty blunted. The medication, which muted the pain, made her woozy as well.

  “Ready?” Victor called finally.

  “Ready,” she replied, and thought she was more than ready to sit down as she dropped onto the edge of the bed.

  He returned and ran his gaze over her.

  “Amazingly enough, it only hurts when I move,” she quipped.

  “You’re still doped up from all the medication they gave you.”

  She glanced down at her hand and found a small bandage where an IV had once been. “Oh, yuck. I’m a mess.” Her clothes were bloody and on her legs, now bare of hose, she could still see some remnants of blood.

  “You can have a hot bath when we get home. Come on, let me help you.”

  He reached up and slipped his hands under her arms.

  She gasped at the strength in those hands.

  How long had it been since a man had touched her so intimately? The closest she’d been to a man in four years was an occasional hug at church.

  It was very disconcerting.

  “What is it?”
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br />   She glanced up and realized her face was only inches from his. She couldn’t help but think how handsome he was and how very masculine.

  “Are you hurting?” he prompted when she didn’t answer.

  Jarred by the second sentence, she nodded. “Everywhere.”

  He turned with her and helped her into the wheelchair. “I have a housekeeper who’ll help you bathe if you need to. In the meantime, let’s just concentrate on getting you home and rested. I have a feeling you’re going to be hurting a lot more before this is over.”

  “I have a feeling you’re right.” She smiled gently.

  The man who had originally woken her up returned with a pair of crutches. He took control of the wheelchair and passed the crutches to Victor. With a smooth motion he turned and wheeled her out of the room. The hall was long, a dingy gray-blue and very old looking. Light bulbs dotted the ceiling along the corridor.

  At the end of the hall they came to electronic doors that opened to a driveway where a car was waiting.

  People with cameras were there, and they immediately started snapping pictures. “Oh, no.” Annie reached up self-consciously and pushed at her hair. “This is awful.”

  She glanced down in embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry for this,” Victor said and stepped up to the large dark vehicle that sat at the curb. A man was waiting and pulled the door open.

  Victor slid in and allowed the other person to lift Annie into the car. “Is this the car I hit?” she asked, confused.

  “No.”

  “Is this your car?” was her next question. It was a luxurious car with thick plush seats and a window separating the front from the back.

  “Yes.”

  Annie suddenly had an inkling that this man must have money. No one she knew drove around in a car like this. No one that she knew could afford to. She leaned her head back into the soft seat and sighed as it cupped her sore body. “I guess this was what Cinderella felt like when she got into the coach.”

  The driver got in and started the vehicle. They drove slowly until they were past the people who were snapping pictures.

  He didn’t blink at anything that went on, simply sat next to her as they exited the parking lot.

  Perhaps the locals always reacted this way? Maybe the ones with cameras had simply been the press wanting pictures of the people in the wreck? A few of the photographers looked awfully young to hold jobs though. But then, she’d heard that people overseas started work younger.

  “Where are we going?” she asked when he didn’t elaborate about the car or comment on the cameras.

  “I live about fifteen minutes outside of town. We’ll be there shortly.

  “See that valley with the sheep over there?”

  Annie followed his finger to where he pointed. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I live about ten kilometers on the other side of it to the east. I have a nice home that’s isolated. I raise horses there.”

  He had to be rich.

  Perhaps he was someone important to Holland. “Do you raise tulips?”

  The man slowly turned his head and stared at her. His gaze met hers and then touched on her features, causing her cheeks to warm.

  Those eyes could hold a person indefinitely. Finally he asked, “Why did you choose Holland to visit?”

  It was said kindly, not condemning or rudely. And she felt he was really interested.

  “I’ve heard that it was a beautiful place. I love tulips. And I’ve always wanted to see a windmill.”

  “Why did you pick this town?”

  “I asked the travel agent for an out-of-the-way place that would be nice to visit. She said there were some famous people who lived here and they had several tourist attractions. Though it was off the beaten path, Europeans liked to frequent it when they visit, she said.”

  “They do have a nice retreat here,” Victor agreed. “About thirty more kilometers north. And they do have a world-famous poet who lives just down the road from me. He’s won several honors.”

  They hit a bump, and Annie winced.

  Victor tapped on the window. “Careful, Haufman. Our guest is in pain.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man replied in broken English.

  “He speaks English too.”

  “Yes. Since we’re off the main path of tourism you won’t meet as many people who speak the language, but there are some. My staff, some do, though others don’t. Europeans usually speak several languages.”

  “Do you speak more than Dutch?”

  She shouldn’t have asked, but then it seemed so natural.

  He nodded his head slightly. “German, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese and a little bit of French, though I understand it much better than I speak it.”

  “You’re kidding.” She gasped.

  “I have a knack for languages.”

  She couldn’t believe it. “Wow.”

  “You’ll find other people who speak English at the resort and many of the tourist stores. But they’re in the northern end of town. As I said, you weren’t in a very tourist area. You’re lucky anyone right there could understand you.”

  They turned onto a main road, most likely the main road she’d been heading for. It wasn’t as nice as some she’d driven on in Louisiana but then, there were a few roads in Louisiana that were worse than this as well. This was definitely more populated than the other road. An open market sat on the corner, large and with people hawking their goods. “Oh, look! We have one of those in New Orleans but it’s nothing like this.”

  Victor smiled. “The French Quarter is for show. This one is a working market.”

  “You’ve been to New Orleans?”

  “On several occasions.”

  Victor was an enigma. Annie’s curiosity was running wild.

  “I was going to stay at the resort,” she murmured, seeing the buildings they passed. This was definitely not New Orleans.

  “I can’t see you staying there,” Victor murmured.

  Suddenly her attention was back on him. How did he manage that? Maybe it was because whenever he spoke it was as if she was hearing a friend. He had a voice that beckoned her to listen.

  His voice and certain moves he made seemed familiar. She felt as if she should know him.

  Embarrassed that she seemed to be imposing her needs here in Holland on a man she didn’t even know, she glanced away. “Why is it that you can’t see me staying there?”

  “I don’t know. You seem more of a woman who would be happier at home surrounded by friends. Maybe one on one.”

  Well he’d certainly pegged her there. “You’re very astute,” she replied quietly.

  This road wasn’t as bumpy, and Annie found herself again relaxing into the thick luxurious seat, though increasingly aware of his presence.

  She didn’t dare turn and look at Victor. Good heavens. Was she making a mistake staying with him? What had happened to her simple sense of propriety? She wasn’t supposed to be attracted to a man. She was a widow!

  “You said something about your friends sending you here?”

  “No. Yes. Well, no. I mean, I wanted to come. I’m just…well…” She sighed. Still not herself, she probably admitted to more than she should when she elaborated. “I lost my husband four years ago. We’d been married eighteen years when he died. And they thought, for my birthday, they’d give me a trip as a gift. They thought it’d be great for me to get out and see the world before going back to work.” She still felt really fuzzy from all the medication. Sleep really sounded nice right now.

  “Ah.” Victor’s voice sounded like an invitation to continue. He leaned back and resumed his regular seat.

  Dreamily she said, “It was easier to give in and besides, I think I was actually excited. I already had a passport. And so, a week later I was on the plane.”

  “On your birthday,” he said.

  “I told you that?” Annie asked, surprised. Turning her head slowly, she met the caring stare of the man next to her.

  �
��Happy birthday,” he murmured and then offered her a slight smile. “You told me quite a bit.”

  Her cheeks flared with color as she realized she wasn’t sure exactly what she’d said. “Oh, dear.”

  He grinned a large wide grin that lit his eyes, causing them to sparkle with humor. “I’ll leave you guessing as to what you told me.”

  “A gentleman wouldn’t do that,” Annie said nervously though her eyes drifted half closed. This car was wonderfully comfortable, she thought.

  His grin actually widened a bit more. “Now who said I was a gentleman?” And then he laughed. It was a baritone, a deep-throated chuckle.

  Not the least bit sexy, but it had the devastating affect of pulling her into the joke and making her want to hear it again.

  They passed out of the city and turned east. She rolled her head toward the window to look out. “The countryside is beautiful. These homes remind me of Heidi.”

  “Except we don’t have mountains. We’re below sea level here.”

  “I remember the story of the boy with his finger in the dike,” she said, a languid amusement slipping into her voice.

  Small houses sat on parcels of land, and sheep wandered the lush green landscape. “This is beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it. So, do you still want to go home?”

  She hesitated. Pulling her gaze from the window, she allowed her vision to travel over to him. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, but the thought of leaving right now…”

  He reached out and took her hand in a gentle squeeze. His larger hand engulfed her smaller one. “You’re tired and sore. I imagine in the next hour or two the pain medication will be wearing off. This hasn’t been the best welcome to our land, but I hope you’ll take a day or two and rest before you decide. Then, if you’d like to leave, I’ll see you get to the airport.”

  They turned onto a long drive and Victor glanced out the window. “Here we are,” he said.

  Annie followed his gaze. She noted the gate that protected his property. Large with solid round black bars, it kept intruders out. It was more like a fortress, she thought.