Cheryl Wolverton

Among The Tulips


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shake with a palsy of shock and pain.

      “I just turned forty, you see. My friends thought this vacation would be a wonderful idea. I didn’t think about the language problem or driving or…anything. We just made reservations for today, my birthday and then I got on the pl-pl-plane. Well, yesterday in America, you see. I was on my way to the hotel when th-th-this accident happened. I only want to go ho-ho-home now.”

      She realized she was rambling, and worse, she realized tears had filled her eyes and had spilled over. Oh heavens. Dear God, please help me get control, she silently prayed.

      Victor reached up and brushed away the tears before pulling her closer. “It’s shock and an adrenaline rush. Don’t worry. It’s going to be all right. Let’s take one thing at a time. First, let’s get you taken care of, okay?”

      In the distance, a siren’s blare grew louder—a very odd foreign-sounding siren that made her feel so much more alone and different. Annie bit her lip. “But the hospitals overseas…I’ve heard stories…and I don’t speak the language…”

      “Let me handle this,” the man said gently.

      She nodded. “I’m so-so-sorry.”

      “For what?” he asked.

      The siren died down as an ambulance pulled up.

      “For getting you involved, for taking this trip— I don’t know—for many things.”

      Two men got out and approached her.

      As they knelt next to her, Victor asked, “Is your husband here with you? Someone I need to notify?”

      Annie shook her head slightly, immediately regretting it. “No. I’m a widow.”

      Victor released her, gently laying her down on the sidewalk and then stepped back to allow the men to get to her. She didn’t move. She hurt too much to move.

      “I don’t suppose I can have your name,” he said.

      Annie realized she hadn’t told him. “Annie. Annie Hooper.”

      “Nice to meet you, Annie,” the polite stranger said.

      “You have no idea how nice it is to meet you,” Annie said, meaning it with every heartbeat.

      She was terrified and alone. She was exhausted after the long trip and all she had been thinking about was getting to the hotel to rest.

      She had no idea what had happened. She had been driving and now she was being loaded onto a gurney. How had the wreck occurred? A big blank was there where information should be. And where was the man she’d hit?

      As the two men lifted her, she couldn’t help a surge of panic. “Don’t leave me,” she called and realized the man who had been at her side was once again talking to the police. He immediately turned and stepped over to her. Wrapping both of his hands around hers in an intimate act of great comfort, he focused his complete attention on her, his eyes connecting and holding hers in a steadying gaze. “I’m right here.”

      She bit her lip, embarrassed, but unwilling to let go. “Thank you.”

      Some trip this was turning out to be. Yet, holding on to this man calmed her somewhat. A needle pricked her arm as the paramedics started on IV and then injected a clear fluid into the IV line. “What are they giving me?”

      Her rescuer turned and rattled off a question in that language they spoke.

      The one attendant answered.

      Tall dark and handsome turned back to her. “Something to help calm you.”

      Oh heavens…she could already feel it taking affect. “You look funny,” she said, but it didn’t sound right. The words had come out mixed up.

      The man smiled, two dimples appearing in his slightly bearded cheeks. “I have a funny look?”

      “No. You…your face…it’s…turning…” She lifted one hand to show him how he seemed suddenly tilted, but found the effort too much and dropped her hand back to her side. “I’m not making sense.”

      The attendants lifted the gurney. It felt very odd—as if she were suddenly floating up into the air. Victor was still next to her, however.

      “You have a dimple in your chin,” she said, staring at him.

      He gave her a half grin as he turned to say something to someone near them.

      “I would have seen it better if you had shaved. You have stubble all over your face.”

      He glanced back, his eyes widening in surprise.

      She felt the silliest urge to giggle—which she did. And then she closed her eyes.

      Until she was jarred.

      “Wait a minute. We’re moving.” She glanced around and noted they were in the back of a vehicle and it was speeding down the street.

      Victor was still there, sitting right next to her, along with a stranger who was talking on a radio. Victor held her hand with both of his. He must have sensed her confusion, however, because he released her hand with his right hand and cupped her cheek. “The medicine is affecting you. We’re on the way to the hospital. Obviously time isn’t the same for you. We’ve already been in here several minutes. They must have given you something pretty strong.”

      Annie felt disconnected, though his hand felt great. With a sigh she rubbed her cheek against his hand. “You feel so good,” she murmured sleepily. “I had no idea how much I missed a gentle touch.” She hadn’t said that out loud—had she? Ah well, what did it matter? He was here now, with her. Her eyelids felt heavy. “My protector.”

      She didn’t want to let her eyes close though and forced them open. The gorgeous guy in front of her was her only lifeline to this world she was in. She didn’t want to lose him.

      He had an odd look on his face.

      She studied him, wondering just who this man was, this gentle soul who had been willing to help her.

      “What are you thinking?” he asked.

      “Please don’t leave me alone.” That sounded so wimpish and frightened. She wasn’t wimpish and easily frightened. At least, she didn’t think so. “Yes, I am. Very wimpish.”

      The man laughed.

      She felt his hand against her cheek again and smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered. Turning her cheek into his hand she snuggled down into it, thinking it felt so much like her mom’s hand had so many years ago—soft, gentle and caring. She closed her eyes.

      “Thank you again? For what?” Victor asked. When she didn’t answer, he realized Annie was asleep. Turning to the attendant he spoke in Dutch, “I want to make sure we get her into a room immediately.”

      The young tech nodded, a bit starry-eyed. “Of course, Mr. Rivers. Whatever you want.”

      Victor simply nodded. He was used to the deference he received, though it did get old. In this case, however, it would be beneficial; it would ensure that ‘Annie’ got good medical care.

      What was he going to do with the woman?

      A stranger in a strange land and she didn’t speak the language.

      He would love to have a talk with her friends. Didn’t people realize just how dangerous it was to be in a foreign country where she couldn’t speak the language? If she’d been in one of the bigger cities, she wouldn’t have had a problem, but in the tiny city of Haut, with a population of only ten thousand, located out in the middle of nowhere—very few spoke English.

      Wearily, he shook his head. He couldn’t help but worry about Annie Hooper.

      And things did happen to innocent people—look at her and the wreck.

      Victor always tried to be prepared and ready for whatever might come. It was a good