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When she finished the last page； she sat back to watch the flames。 Their
play entranced her； calmed her； lulled her into a peaceful daze； and for
the very first time； and at long last； she felt removed from Jeff's
death。
It had been a nightmare…first news of the plane crash； then the limbo
when rescue teams set to work； hope when survivors appeared； total and
utter despair when the worst became reality。 But her heart felt lighter
now than it had at any time since then。 She didn't know if it was the
change of scenery； or the start of true healing。 But it felt good。
Of course； Mitch was still gone。 Though it was after nine； he hadn't
returned。 Just as well。 They were like fire and water。
She had to give him points； though。 He hadn't gone on and on about what
a shame it was； how young a widow she made； how tragic that Jeff had
been taken from life in his prime。 She'd had enough pity to last a
lifetime。
So he can't be all bad； she mused； even if he does make bitter coffee。
The evening passed quietly。 Anne left her chair only to feed the fire。
After a time； her lids grew heavy。 She fell into deep sleep from which
only the sensation of movement much later disturbed her。 She opened
groggy eyes to find herself in Mitch's arms。
〃What are you doing？〃 she cried and began to squirm。
He held her tighter。 〃Putting you to bed。〃 They were already at the door
of her room。
〃Put me down。 I don't need your help。〃
He dropped her on the bed。 〃Don't worry。 I'm not doing you any favors。
I'm thinking of me。 You were sleeping in my chair。〃
Before she could begin to call him out； he pivoted and left； slamming
the door behind him。
Sunday brought more of the same。 On the plus side； the weather was
grand； crisp and clear once the early…morning fog lifted。 Having slept
her fill； Anne was up early； putting on her own pot of coffee to assure
herself a cup to her liking； before showering and dressing。 The door to
the attic remained closed。 If Mitch was still asleep； he slept soundly。
Everything overhead was silent。
After breakfast； she rewalked yesterday's route； this time extending it
to the brook that babbled down the far hillside。 In keeping with the nip
in the air； the first of the birch leaves were starting to yellow。 The
sun picked them out from the rest and added a glow。
Removing her sneakers； she rolled up her jeans and； where the water was
shallow； waded across flat granite boulders。 It was the kind of thing
she and Jeff would have done。 Now she was alone； yet strangely peaceful。
Enjoying herself； she leaped lightly from stone to stone。
Returning invigorated to the house； she tackled the first of the papers
she had to translate； making good headway with the English…to…Spanish
piece until her stomach grumbled。 By then there were stirrings from the
upper quarter。 She worked until he was in the bathroom and dallied in
the kitchen until he returned to his room。 When he came downstairs； she
was back at work； sitting at the small desk that stood beneath a side
window of the living room。
Then the trouble began。 For nearly ten minutes he looked over her
shoulder while she worked as best she could。 Then he made a racket with
pots and pans in the kitchen。 When that ended； there was whistling； loud
and persistent； the same tune； over and over and over again。
Worst were interruptions of the 〃Hey； where is 。。 。〃 variety。 First it
was； 〃Hey； where's the salt？〃 Then； 〃Hey； where's the ketchup？〃 Then；
〃Hey； where's the large spatula？〃
By this time she knew he was baiting her； so she didn't scream。 Calmly；
she put down her pen； set her glasses aside； and made for the kitchen to
register a civil plaint。
〃Are there any more？ migod； what are you doing？〃 She ran across the room；
only to drop her outstretched arms in disgust and raise her eyes
heavenward in search of patience。
〃What's the trouble？〃 He was all innocence。
She peered once more into the half…empty jar in his hand。 〃Those are my
macadamia nuts。 I've been saving that itty…bitty jar for this vacation！
〃
〃So I'll buy you another jar。 Is money that tight？〃
Anne scowled。 She reached for the jar and clamped on its lid before he
could take more。 〃It's not the money。 It's the principle。 I love
macadamia nuts。〃
〃I'll get you more；〃 he repeated calmly。
She returned the jar to the cabi。 〃Can I trust you to leave it alone；
or do I have to put it in my room？〃
He grinned and folded his arms on his chest。 〃I haven't had macadamias
in ages。 I'd forgotten how good they are。 But you can trust me。 At
least； when it es to the nuts。〃
For a split second； she thought she heard something sexual in his drawl。
Then； dismissing it as a figment of her imagination； she turned and
stalked off。
By Monday； a pattern emerged。 Anne rose early each morning and hiked the
countryside。 Mitch slept late enough to ensure a replenished supply of
hot water for a long shower。 Meals were widely scattered and eaten alone
from supplies that remained separate and distinct。
By Tuesday Anne felt well rested and relaxed。 If Mitch continued to toss
in his sleep； she had either gotten used to the noise or she slept
soundly enough herself to blot it out。
He woke up earlier than usual that day； packed a lunch and vanished；
leaving Anne with the solitude she wanted。 Strange； though； between
work； books； and other incidental activities； she kept thinking about
him。
She was living with the guy。 Well； not in that sense。 Still； her friends
would be stunned if they knew； her family appalled。 But she was
fortable here； physically and emotionally。 This world was divorced
from that of New York。 Same with Mitch。 So； she didn't know his last
name。 The anonymity here felt right。 With Wednesday morning came the
awareness that her vacation was ing to an end。 By Friday afternoon
she would be heading back to the city。 Thinking about it over breakfast
coffee； she felt a pang of disappointment。 All things considered； the
vacation had been a good one。 She would miss this country when she had
to leave it behind。
Determined to make the most of the remaining days； she spent more time
in the woods than ever； reveling in the beauty of the flora； the freedom
of the fauna； and the luxury of time itself It was past noon when she
returned to the cottage。 Leaning against the trunk of an old apple tree
in the backyard； bathed in its sweet scent； she tipped her head back and
squinted at the sun through the fruit。
Inspiration struck then。 Pulling her jacket off； she spread it on the
soft grass。 Then she began to pick apples； selecting only the fullest
and deepest red of the lot to add to the growing pile。 When the last of
the best lay on her jacket； she calculated her own agility； studying the
upper branches； taking stock of her options。 Casting prudence aside； she
braced a rubber soled foot against the trunk and carefully hoisted
herself onto the first branch； bringing a whole new batch of fruit
within reach。 Balanced gingerly； she plucked one； then another； filling
her free arm slowly。
Then she looked down and saw Mitch right at the foot of her tree。
Startled； she lost her balance。 Apples rained to the ground in a crimson
storm。 When she began to fall； she twisted sideways； grabbing back at
the low branch to catch herself。 Mitch caught her before she hit the
ground； though not before she'd been scraped by the ragged bark and
jutting offshoots。
〃Why did you creep up on me that way？〃 she cried the minute her feet
touched ground。 He released her instantly； but not before she saw him
flinch in pain。 With a gasp of pain herself； she sank to the grass and
rubbed the knee she had bumped on the branch。
〃Are you all right？〃 he asked。
She probed an aching elbow。 〃Fine。 I'm fine。〃
〃Are you always this clumsy？〃
〃I wasn't clumsy。 You frightened me； sneaking up like that。〃
〃Who did you think it was？〃 he asked dryly。 〃There aren't a whole lot of
other people around here； or hadn't you noticed？〃 Frowning； he bent to
gather apples that had fallen。 〃You should be more careful。 You could
break a leg that way。〃
〃Is that the voice of experience talking？〃
His jaw was tight。 〃You could say that。〃 He tossed more apples onto her
jacket。 But he only used his right arm。 The left hung idle。
〃Is your arm all right？〃 she asked。
He glanced sharply up。 〃It's fine。〃
〃You favor your right。〃
〃It's fine。 Can you walk？〃
As she stood； testing the knee； he pulled her jacket around into a
bundle； lifted it； and set off for the house。
She limped after him。 By the time she reached the kitchen； he had put
the apples beside the sink and disappeared。 Grateful for the privacy；
she collapsed into a chair； twisting her arm to see the scrapes on her
elbow。
〃Here； let me take a look at that。〃
Before she could resist； Mitch deposited a bottle of disinfectant and a
washcloth on the table； pulled up a chair； and took her arm。 His touch
was warm。 When she tried to pull back； he held her arm more firmly。 She
winced at the antiseptic's sting。
〃THAT'S That's enough！〃
But he disagreed； repeatedly dabbing the dirt from the wound before
kneeling and reaching for her knee。
〃It's all right；〃 she insisted。
He