Her Best Match: A Romantic Comedy (The Best Girls Book 1) (33 page)

“That’s Lake Brienz. Our first stop is Interlaken, which is on the lake. But we won’t tour there until we’re on the way home. I want to get you up to the top of Jungfrau before the afternoon clouds roll in. Hopefully, we’ll have an incredible view.”

Anne smiled so much her cheeks hurt, still mesmerized by the scenery. The grass was still green, and the Alps had a sprinkling of snow on top. Gherring said, “You should come back in the winter. It looks like a picture postcard, especially up in the mountains.”

Gherring shifted a bit to point out the window, and she suddenly became aware of his leg pressing against hers.

“What did you say? I… I missed it.” She tried to concentrate on his words, but she could only hear a distant sound in her head. Why did he still affect her this way? She’d tried to make herself see Gherring objectively. It worked for her brain, but her body just wouldn’t listen. She could still picture him wearing nothing but a towel. What was he saying?

Anne nodded her head and fabricated an all-encompassing answer. “I see.” She hoped that comment would make sense with what he had told her. It was probably some factoid about the geography or the history of Switzerland. He seemed to be a walking encyclopedia.

“You see?” Gherring looked at her quizzically. “I asked if you’d like to take a hike along the lake this afternoon. What did you think I said?”

Anne’s cheeks filled with color. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must still be groggy from that Benadryl I took last night.”

“Really? I thought you said you were never taking a sleeping pill again.”

“Uhmm, I did say that didn’t I?” Why did she ever try to lie? It always backfired.

“Yes, you did. And having observed you after taking sleep aids, I think you should avoid them at all costs.” Gherring actually looked concerned, and Anne felt guilty for lying to him.

“Sure, okay. You’re right. I won’t do it again.”

“But why were you having trouble sleeping? Are you worried about Henri’s family member?”

“No, I wasn’t… I mean, yes I was worried, but that didn’t keep me from sleeping. I slept fine, really. I just… Ohmygosh! I’m such a terrible liar. I’m surprised I made it through my childhood. Although, I guess I really didn’t lie as a child either. I’ve just never been good at it, you know…”

Gherring was baffled. “You lied about being worried? Just because I asked about Henri? I’m not such a terrible person I’d be upset when you’re worried about something like this. Even if it is Henri! I don’t wish bad things on him or his family. Why would you lie about it?”

“No, I didn’t lie about being worried. I lied about the sleeping pill. Okay? I didn’t take a Benadryl, and I don’t even remember why I lied about it anymore.” Just one more little lie. Please let it work this time. “Now
please
, can we just change the subject?”

Gherring studied her with narrowed eyes. “Sure. What would you like to talk about?”

Anne racked her brain. She needed to think objectively about Gherring. “Let’s talk about you. When was the last time you went on a serious date?”

“I don’t think I care for this topic.”

“How about something more general. What characteristics do you think make the ideal woman?”

“A woman who minds her own business.”

“No seriously, this could be fun.”

“Okay, then you go first. How would you describe your ideal man?”

“Hmmm.” Anne twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “You know, I’ve never given it much thought. I’ve always been good at picking out people who go together. But I picked out a man so long ago…” She gave Gherring a challenging look. “You have to list as many characteristics as I do. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Anne contemplated her list. Obviously handsome and a great body would go on her list, but she wasn’t going to mention that first. “Hmmm… well-educated, great conversationalist—”

Gherring grinned. “Ditto.”

“No way—you have to think of your own. You go next, that way you can’t cheat.”

“Beautiful, with a great body. What else matters?” He laughed.

“Ditto,” Anne chuckled.

“Now who’s cheating?”

“Okay, how about this one? Someone who’ll put me first and someone I would be willing to put first in my own life.”

“No, that’s too hard to measure. How about hair color, eye color?”

“Blond and brown,” she replied quickly. She certainly wasn’t going to say dark hair and blue eyes.

“Oh.” Gherring’s dimples appeared suddenly. “Too bad for Henri. Shall I be the one to break the news?”

She chuckled. “Stop it! Now don’t you want a woman who isn’t interested in your money?”

“Why would I want that? I’m an old fart now. Women aren’t really interested in me for myself anymore. Money’s my only real asset.”

“That’s not true at all. There’s a lot more to you than your money.”

Gherring looked away, dejected. “If I wasn’t rich, no woman would look twice at me.”

“You can’t really believe that. You’re smart and handsome and you…” Anne stopped talking when she noticed Gherring’s shoulders shaking with laughter. “And you did it to me
again
!”

“Don’t stop now. I’m really enjoying your evaluation.” He chuckled, but grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “No, please, don’t be mad. I’ll cooperate this time.”

He heaved a great sigh.

“I want someone I won’t be bored with after six months. I’d like someone who’d be fun to grow old with. I want someone who helps me to be the best man I can be. I want someone who needs me as much as I need her.”

“Wow… That’s really good.” Anne was acutely aware of his hand holding hers, yet she maintained her composure. “But talk about hard to measure. How would you ever know?”

“Well, in the past, I would’ve said you couldn’t really know. You’d have to be willing to take a chance.”

“But now?” Anne attempted to slide her hand away casually, but Gherring maintained his firm, yet gentle, hold.

“But now I’d say I’d never met the right woman.”

This time Anne succeeded in slipping her hand away to gesture with it. “You see—that’s exactly what Gram and I said. We just need to find you the right woman.” She smiled with satisfaction.

“And what about you?”

Anne felt herself blushing, and leaned down to re-tie her boots and hide her face. “Uhmm, what about me?”

“I gave you four more qualities. Now you owe me four more. And they have to be really good ones.” When she met his gaze, the intensity made her breath catch in her throat.

“I’d want someone… someone I could trust. They’d have to love my girls, too. Someone with integrity. And someone who’d hold me when I cry and not be awkward about it, because sometimes I just need to cry.”

Gherring left her alone with her melancholy reflections for several minutes before speaking. “Would you like to change the subject again?”

She released a big breath. “Absolutely! I’ll do better this time. Uhmm… Where are we going for lunch?”

The scenery was increasingly beautiful as the journey progressed. Anne exclaimed at the quaint towns, waterfalls, and lakes peppered among the mountain slopes and valleys. At Lauterbrunnen, they boarded a cog train that took them to Kleine Scheidegg. From there, another cog train traversed up a steep incline for the last leg of their journey. Eighty percent of the fifty-minute ride was inside a tunnel carved deep in the solid mountain rock. The train arrived at the Jungfraujoch, the highest train station in Europe.

“This is great,” he declared as they exited the train. “I don’t see any clouds. Let’s go to the observation terrace first.”

Even with her hat and gloves and heavy coat, the wind whipped through to her skin. But the views from the terrace made her forget the ice and cold.

“We’re at eleven thousand three hundred and sixty-eight feet here. There’s no view like this anywhere else in the world.”

But she needed no convincing. Despite the cold, she stayed on the terrace for almost thirty minutes, until he urged her to follow him inside.

“I’m starving,” she said.

“I don’t know how you stay so thin with that appetite of yours.”

“I’d rather run a few miles so I can eat more. Wouldn’t you?”

“You’ve got a point.”

The food was warm and filling, if not spectacular cuisine.

“I think I feel better now. I was a little light-headed.”

“Could be the altitude. Drink the rest of your water.”

“I don’t really like drinking much. It’s always been a problem.”

“So prove to me you aren’t stubborn, and drink the rest of that water.”

“What about you?” She pouted, pointing at his water bottle. He immediately upended it and drank the entire content. His brows arched as he looked at her still-full bottle of water.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll drink… as much as I can, anyway.”

It took five minutes for her to drink half of her water. He checked the time. “Oh, the ice palace is closing soon.”

“Ice palace? Let’s go now. I don’t want to miss the ice palace. What
is
the ice palace?”

“We’ll go as soon as you finish your water. Maybe it’ll still be open.”

She rolled her eyes and chugged down the rest of her water. “Let’s go, and don’t look so smug.”

Entering the ice palace, she noted the hours, commenting they’d been in no danger of missing it.

“Hmmm… What do you know? I must have been mistaken about the hours.”

They walked through a long tunnel carved in the glacier to reach a large hall with several chambers and small connecting passages. Everything was made of ice—the floor, ceiling, walls, and arches. Everywhere were magnificent ice figurines of birds and animals, so intricately carved they were almost life-like. The lights cascaded through the ice and reflected from the shiny surfaces. Some sculptures were enhanced with colored lights, as well.

Anne studied every carving, while Gherring studied Anne.

“Why aren’t you looking at the ice sculptures?” she asked. “Are you bored?”

“No. But it’s more fun to watch you. You’re like a little kid. You get so excited about everything. I’ve seen it all before, but now I can see it through your eyes.” He paused. “You know, Anne—”

“Look—a bear! Will you take my picture with it to send to the girls?”

He sighed, reaching for her phone. “Sure.”

“Too bad it’s November,” Gherring said as they changed trains at Lauterbrunnen. “We could stop here and go see Trammel Falls, but they close at the end of October. In the summer, we could hike through Lauterbrunnen Valley. It’s about a three-hour hike and there’re seventy-two waterfalls. And if it was January, we could go stay in Wengen and go skiing—it’s such a beautiful place to ski. There’s this great little bakery you can stop at on your way back from a day of skiing.” He heaved a big breath. “I’ve got to bring you back.”

“Since everyone here thinks I’m in the CMA department, I guess I’d have an excuse. That is, if you ever had to come over here for business again.”

He frowned. “I could bring you here—”

Her phone trilled, interrupting his thoughts. “Oh no, it’s Henri.” She took the call with trembling fingers, while Gherring moved to allow her some privacy. “Henri? Hi, did you hear something?”

Anne could hear him trying to catch his breath. “They have to do a biopsy to confirm, but they say it is most likely cancer.” Henri was choking back tears.

“Oh no, Henri. I’m so sorry. She’s so young.” Her own tears were falling freely. “What… What does this mean? What will they do for her?”

“I do not know yet. They said… They said possible amputation.” Henri’s voice cracked. “And we would be upset about that, but they talked about better survival rates… And we can’t lose her! I can’t lose her!” He sobbed now, and Anne cried with him. “I… You will still pray?”

“Yes, of course I’ll pray for her.”

“The biopsy is tomorrow. They could schedule surgery before you come, or while you are here. I… My sister is calling me. I have to go. Please pray.”

Anne disconnected and sat staring at her phone with tears streaming down her face.

“Anne?” His voice was tender as he sat beside her. He opened his arms, and she fell against him, crying as he held her, gently rubbing her arm. He didn’t complain when his shirt was wet with her tears, but pulled her closer and tucked her head against his chest.

He didn’t ask her any questions, but when her tears began to diminish, the story of the little girl she’d never met spilled out from her broken heart. The sweet Anna-Laure who’d just gotten a pony for her seventh birthday. The uncle who loved her like a father. The terror of the word—
cancer
.

And still he held her. Silent. Listening. His presence somehow soothing her aching soul. She began to cry again, because it felt so good to be held. But she knew it was an empty promise. He held her because that was the kind of man he was. He would do the same for any woman in distress. It didn’t mean anything. For a moment, she imagined how it would be if he loved her. And then she cried for herself, for the woman who’d stood alone for fifteen years with no one to hold her.