A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection
same in the dark. “Anna!” he whispered as loudly as he dared. “Anna, where are you?”
    “Pete?” she whispered back. Her arm stuck out from behind a tree, followed by her face— lined with pain. She grimaced with each movement; Pete wanted to get her a cup of hot coffee to warm her up then hold her close and kiss her all better. To tell her he loved her and always would. Maybe he’d been wrong all along. She was right about one thing; he hadn’t given her the option to choose a life with him.
    The first chance he got, he’d say so and pray she’d say yes. But with the fighting tonight, who knew when that would be.
    Pete hurried through the snow to her. “We need to get you to a dugout before it starts again. Come on.” He helped her to her feet— a much slower process than it should have been, as Anna’s legs moved stiffly. “Are you in pain?”
    “Some,” she said with a forced cheerful tone and a half nod. “My feet feel like blocks of ice.” She chuckled, but the sound fell flat, which only made Pete want to pick her up and carry her into a dugout, but he didn’t trust himself to be steady while carrying her in the dark over thick snow and ice. Instead, he put one arm beneath both of hers to support her weight. His other hand braced her from the front of her waist in case she pitched forward. That was the best he could do.
    “I’m a bit stiff,” she whispered, limping with each step. “Sorry.”
    “You’re doing fine,” Pete said. But we do need to hurry.
    He didn’t use his flashlight— too much chance of being noticed, and besides, both hands were occupied by keeping Anna upright. Their pace was much slower than would be ideal; every nerve in his body screamed to get her to safety now.
    Anna tripped on a tree root and winced. He held her close it seemed her pain had subsided, smelling the faintest hint of lavender in her hair, a scent so Anna. A scent from before he’d been a fool. Please give me chance to make things right.
    She turned her face and looked into his eyes. With their faces an inch apart, Pete almost forgot to breathe. Their lips were only a breath from each other; he could have easily closed the distance and kissed her.
    I have no right to do that. Soon again, I hope. And we have no time for that now anyway. He gritted his teeth and nodded at the path. “Let’s go.”
    What a chicken-livered, yellow-bellied ninny he’d been to walk away last month without telling her why. The night he’d left, he’d known that Anna would try to convince him to stay— and that she’d likely succeed if he gave her the chance, yet he’d done it anyway, thinking he was somehow being honorable. He lacked the fortitude to stick to his decision in the face of her eyes, her voice, her touch…
    She still deserved an explanation. As he’d left her house that night, he’d felt as if his heart had died. He hadn’t realized that hers had too.
    I think she still cares, after what I did. He could hardly fathom it.
    Pete had to distract himself from the havoc his emotions were wreaking on the situation. He’d tell Anna what had happened in the attack to refocus on why they were here in the first place. “Some Russians broke through and attacked from the rear,” he said. As soon as the words left his lips, he realized that they were ridiculous; she’d surely figured that much out on her own.
    “But why did the fighting stop?” Anna asked. “Surely Finns in a non-combat unit couldn’t overcome a surprise ambush.”
    Trying to distract himself by telling about the ambush had been an idiotic decision. Pete didn’t want to put any haunting images of starving men into her head. He bought some time by deflecting the question. The women’s dugout wasn’t too far now. Keep talking, and maybe they’d reach safety without her ever needing to know the details. He knew she’d find out soon enough, and that she needed to know to write about it, but not tonight.
    “That’s the irony. The

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