No Greater Love Read Online Free

against hers and his arms holding her firmly against him. She turned away quickly, bending over the oven to hide the blush that she could feel staining her cheeks. She removed the casserole of lamb shanks surrounded by carrots, onions, potatoes and mushrooms and, after sprinkling the fragrant gremolata mixture of lemon zest, chopped parsley, and crushed garlic that Carl loved over the top, placed it on the table. With a quick turn, she picked up the bread basket and cheese board from the counter. “Please sit down,” she said to Pieter who had remained standing until she slid into her chair.
    “Well, my dear boy, if you will pour the wine, I will tell you about my wonderful Aga stove.” He paused for a moment and then said, “It is one of the things I remember as a little boy in Leiden, the big black Aga stove in the kitchen.” He stared out the window and then shook his head. “Let’s see, my stove. How long ago was it, Janan?”
    “About three months ago,” she answered softly.
    “Yes, that’s right.” He smiled impishly at Pieter. “There was an old gas stove that had been here for ages. It was one of those with an open flame and sometimes you had to light the pilot light with a match. Well, one day I had a little accident. I called Janan and she came right away and took me to the emergency room. It was just a little burn but Arnold, my great-nephew—I don’t think you’ve met him—well, somehow he learned about it and got all upset, yelling at me that it was unsafe for me to live alone, that I should be moved to a retirement home. Me, in a retirement home? Never!”
    “So what happened?” Pieter asked, his eyes on Janan’s face.
    “Janan figured it out.” He chortled with glee. “She found a very small Aga stove that fit in the space of the old stove. No open pilot light or open flames and, the best part, the kitchen stays cozy all the time during the winter months.”
    Pieter turned in his chair to study the stove. “It is very efficient-looking, very sturdy.” He shot a teasing grin in Janan’s direction. “Very lavender.”
    “The color is heather,” she bristled. “It’s an English stove.”
    “I stand corrected,” he said meekly. “You must forgive me. English is not my first language.”
    “You seem to manage very well when you want to,” she fired back and then continued stiffly, “I had a very short time to find a stove to fit the space and within budgetary restrictions.”
    “But she did it,” Carl chimed in cheerfully. “She found a builder whose customer had changed her mind and no longer wanted that color.”
    “Incredible.” Pieter shook his head in mock disbelief.
    “The price was much too high but Janan made a bargain with him and now I have my lovely stove.”
    Pieter could not resist. “What was the bargain?” He met her glare. “In case I ever need to replace a stove,” he added meekly.
    It was Carl who answered his question. “After his wife died, he had been doing his own cooking, but now, Janan makes a dinner for every day of the week and freezes it for him.”
    “How long will it take to pay off the bargain?” Pieter asked soberly as he thought of all the extra work she had taken on.
    “A while, but it doesn’t matter. I am cooking for us anyway.” She rose quickly and began to clear the table.
    “I will help you.” Pieter gathered up plates in each hand and carried them to the sink.
    Pieter’s efforts to help surprised Janan. “Thank you, but no. Carl has been waiting so long for your visit. I will bring the coffee into the other room and you can talk without interruption.”
    When they had settled into their chairs with fragrant cups of Dutch coffee, Carl began calmly, “So tomorrow you will spend the day at the Cancer Institute.” He studied Pieter carefully. His years of clinical practice clicked off what he was seeing. The fit of Pieter’s clothes indicated weight loss, his skin was pale with a grayish cast, and he had eaten lightly. He