A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection Read Online Free PDF Page A

it.
    The man cried out. “Anna. Anna.”
    The shock that this young man knew Anna was eclipsed by his accent. He was Russian . The man mumbled something unintelligible in his native tongue then reached for Anna’s face. She took his hand and held it to her cheek, smiling and murmuring something surely intended to comfort him.
    He doesn’t know her. He thinks she’s someone he left behind. Trust Anna to try to comfort those around here no matter where she was.
    Pete found himself drawing deeper into the tent one step at a time. He reached a chair and found Anna’s dog-eared notebook covered with her handwriting. The sight cemented the reality that Dill had really sent Anna here. Of course Keith would be replaced; Pete had gotten a telegram saying as much a few days ago, but no hint that it would be Anna.
    He sat on the edge of the chair as she hummed. He didn’t recognize the song, but it was soft, with a lilting rhythm. By the third verse, the soldier’s intense grip began to relax, and soon he stopped thrashing and began breathing easier. Anna smiled up at the nurse yet kept singing, still holding his hand between both of hers.
    After another minute, Anna looked up at the nurse and whispered, “I think he’s asleep.”
    The nurse nodded. Whether she understood the English or not didn’t matter; she took his left arm and injected whatever was in the syringe. The soldier grimaced in his sleep but then drifted away again. The nurse sighed with relief. “He should sleep several hours,” she said to Anna with a thick accent. “ Kiitos . I mean, thank you .”
    “My pleasure.” Anna gently placed the soldier’s arm across his stomach and stood. From where he sat, Pete could see her face and the expression of pain and angst crossing it.
    Pete wanted to rush over and hold Anna, to comfort her and get rid of that look of distress. This was no place for a female reporter. What had Dill been thinking?
    Aside from Anna being put into harm’s way, how was Pete supposed to keep his focus on his work, with her red hair flashing beside him, her scent hanging about him like a cloud whenever she passed, her voice haunting his mind and heart as they talked story angles and hooks?
    This isn’t going to work.
    Anna stood, straightening her skirt. Pete instinctively stood as well. Her hands rose and smoothed back her hair, but then she saw Pete. Her eyes widened, and the movement of her hands paused. After a moment, they lowered, and her brows drew together in surprise. “Pete? Is that really you?” He didn’t know whether her soft voice was to keep the Russian asleep or whether it was from shock. Maybe a bit of both.
    He mustered a wan smile. Now that she’d seen him, he had no idea what to say or do. “I, uh, didn’t expect to see you here.” Obviously.
    Was she pleased to see him? She didn’t seem displeased , exactly, only shocked. A few more moments of silence could well make her reaction progress from shock to hurt or anger. As they stood there, looking at each other, Anna with an expectant look on her face, Pete knew he’d been wrong, so wrong, when he’d said goodbye. Not that he hadn’t needed to leave; he had. But this wasn’t a surface love he would ever move on from. This was a bone-deep need to have her in his life as she would always be in his heart.
    He’d dreamed of her, fitfully, every night since walking away. Now here she was, in the flesh— in a war zone. A surge of protectiveness washed over him. He wanted— no, needed— to care for Anna, to have a life with her. To make her happy. Was that possible? Could he be with her yet? Or was he playing the fool, setting himself up for disappointment when he realized yet again that he couldn’t be the husband she deserved?
    How long had they stood here, just gazing at each other, silent?
    Pete shook his head to chase away such thought; he probably looked like a dolt, gaping mindlessly. The antiseptic smell, the odor of infected limbs, the moaning of