Free Last Bridge Home by Iris Johansen Page A

circle around my snowman and—”
    “No, Gunner.” Jon stepped forward andpulled Elizabeth to her feet. He turned her around and began to brush the snow from her coat and slacks. “You’re as bad as she is. How long have you two been out here? She’s wet to the skin.”
    “Since breakfast.” Gunner was frowning with concern as he looked at Elizabeth. “Is she really damp? Lord, I’m sorry. She seemed to be having so much fun I guess I didn’t think.”
    “You seldom do.” The sarcasm in Jon’s tone was biting.
    “Be quiet, Jon.” Elizabeth’s brown eyes were dancing as she glanced at him over her shoulder. “You’re just crabby because we were having fun and you were left out. It’s all your own fault. If you’d gotten out of bed at a respectable hour instead of sleeping until almost noon, you’d have been able to come out and play too. We’ve had a perfectly splendid snowball fight, and Gunner has made the largest snowman in the history of New York State.”
    Gunner grinned. “Only New York? I was hoping that at the very least I’d beaten the North American record.”
    Elizabeth tilted her head and regarded the eight-foot snowman critically. “I don’t know … There are some ice sculpture aficianados in Minnesota who’d be pretty tough competition.”
    “Ice and snow are not the same,” Gunnersaid with royal hauteur. “I will not be subject to an unfair comparison.”
    Elizabeth’s laugh rang out on the clear, cold air, and Jon experienced a pang of pleasure. How he loved to hear her laugh. The sound of her laughter was low and sweet and brimming with robust joyousness. Her face sparkled and her skin bloomed with a silky sheen. His throat tightened helplessly as he gazed at her. She was blooming. Her skin, her body, the tousled silk of her straight brown hair. All blooming. All radiant. Elizabeth.
    “You’d better go inside and change,” he said gruffly, when he’d finally managed to tear his gaze away from her.
    Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at him. “Spoil sport. Just for that we won’t let you help name our magnificent creation. What do you think, Gunner? He looks terribly wise. Solomon?”
    Gunner shook his head. “Too pompous. You can be wise without being boring.”
    Jon suddenly felt very old and jaded. They were both so damn young and beautiful and full of the elixir of life. Last night in front of the fire he had been full of hope, but today he was bombarded by doubt. When had he last been able to shrug off responsibility and just enjoy himself? Hell, he couldn’t even remember when he had last let his burdens slide.
    “What about Benjamin Franklin? He had asense of humor,” Elizabeth suggested. “And he came from good Yankee stock, which is import—” She broke off as she shot a mischievous glance at Jon and saw his expression. The grin immediately faded from her face, and it clouded with concern. “Jon, is something wrong?” She took an impulsive step toward him. “I didn’t mean—” She stopped short as the world began to whirl around her in a blur of white and cerulean blue. “Jon!”
    “God!” In two strides Jon was beside her. He lifted her into his arms and pressed her against his chest. “Pains?”
    “No.” She shook her head. To her relief the world was steadying itself once again. “I was just dizzy for a moment. You can let me go now.”
    “The hell 1 will.” He strode toward the lodge with her. His face was pale beneath his tan. Almost as pale as Benjamin Franklin’s, she thought hazily. “You’re going to bed to rest. Gunner, if you can tear yourself away from your artistic endeavors, you might make some hot tea for her.”
    “Right away.” Gunner passed them at a run, bounding up the stairs of the deck. “She didn’t eat much breakfast. I’ll fix her a light lunch.”
    “For heaven’s sake, it was only a dizzy spell,” she protested. “It’s perfectly natural for a woman in my condition to have her hormonesgo crazy at a time like