rekindled(英文版)-第29章

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sweat；　she　struggled　to　catch　her　breath　until　Mitch's　arms　came　around
her。

〃What　is　it；　honey？〃　he　asked　in　alarm。　The　room　was　dim；　bathed　eerily
in　the　blue　light　of　the　moon　as　it　spilled　over　the　snow　in　the　yard。

〃A　nightmare。　Oh；　God；　it　was　awful。〃　She　trembled　in　spite　of　his
steadying　hold。

〃Want　to　tell　me　about　it？〃

〃It's　that　court　case　hanging　over　my　head。〃

〃What　court　case？〃

〃The　accident。　My　husband's　family　has　been　pushing　me　to　sue　for
negligence。　I　agreed　at　first　because　I　was　as　angry　as　they　were　and　we
were　all　so　helpless。　Now　I'd　rather　put　the　whole　thing　behind　me。〃

Mitch　was　silent　for　a　time。　〃And　the　nightmare？〃　he　asked　quietly。　His
arms　were　exquisitely　tender　as　they　held　her　to　his　chest。

She　took　a　shuddering　breath。　〃I　dreamed　I　was　on　that　plane　with　Jeff
when　it　crashed；　but　that　I　wasn't　injured　and　had　to　stand　by　and　watch
while　he　burned　to　death。　There　were　no　doctors；　no　medics；　nothing　but
flames　and　smoke　and　debris　and　people's　screams。〃　She　buried　her　face
in　his　chest。　〃It　was　awful。〃

He　spoke　softly　against　her　hair。　〃I　know；　honey；　I　know。　But　it　was
only　a　dream。〃　His　nearness　forted　her。　〃Only　a　dream；〃　he　repeated
and　said　it　on　and　off；　between　gentle　rocking；　until　she　fell　back　to
sleep。

Mitch　seemed　preoccupied。　She　sensed　it　from　time　to　time　and　guessed
that　he　had　work　on　his　mind。　On　the　last　night　before　she　was　to　leave；
though；　she　looked　up　to　find　him　brooding　at　the　flames　in　the　hearth。
He　was　sitting　on　the　floor　by　her　chair；　with　his　legs　stretched　toward
the　warmth。

She　touched　his　shoulder。　〃Is　something　wrong？〃

Snatched　from　some　distant　place；　he　jerked　his　head　around。　〃Hmm？〃

〃You　look　bothered　by　something。　I'm　back　to　normal；　and　you　haven't
begun　to　fight　with　me。〃　She　gave　him　a　teasing　smile。　His　smile　was
oddly　sad。　〃I　seem　to　have　lost　my　taste　for　the　fight。〃

〃This　must　have　been　a　boring　week　for　you。〃

〃I　haven't　minded。　It's　been　restful。〃

〃Too　restful。　Tomorrow　is　my　last　morning　here。　Will　you　go　walking　with
me；　or　do　I　sneak　out　alone？〃

He　looked　back　at　the　fire。　〃I'll　go　with　you。〃

She　had　expected　an　argument；　something　to　the　tune　of　You're　not　well
enough　for　a　walk。　When　he　said　nothing；　she　knew　something　was
definitely　wrong。

But　he　wasn't　the　only　one　who　had　lost　his　taste　for　the　fight。　She
didn't　want　anything　to　mar　their　last　night。　So　she　let　it　go。　With　the
snowfall　still　fresh　on　the　deserted　mountain；　the　sight　greeting　them
the　following　morning　was　one　of　blinding　splendor。　The　sky　was　a　deep
blue；　the　air　cold　and　still。　Days　of　warm　sun　and　freezing　temperatures
had　created　a　crust　of　ice。　The　crunch　underfoot　echoed　as　they　made
their　way　across　the　hillside。　Bits　of　the　brook　that　weren't　frozen　ran
through　crystalline　palaces　of　branches　and　weeds。　The　only　other　signs
of　life　were　those　frozen　in　the　snow；　the　tracks　of　the　snowshoe　rabbit
or　the　packed　path　of　the　deer。

It　was　a　scene　of　rare　beauty；　all　the　more　beautiful　for　the　week…long
wait　to　see　it。　But　time　was　short。　Too　soon；　afternoon　arrived　and　the
moment　of　parting。

〃Are　you　sure　you　won't　stay　the　weekend？〃　Mitch　asked。　〃You　shouldn't
be　driving　so　far　yet。〃　Her　car　was　packed。　They　stood　beside　it。

His　wistfulness　added　to　Anne's　regret。　〃I　wish　I　could。　But　I　promised
my　folks　I'd　attend　a　hospital　benefit　with　them　tomorrow　night。　I　can't
let　them　down。〃

He　wrapped　an　arm　around　her。　〃Even　if　you're　letting　me　down？〃　His　eyes
dropped　to　her　lips。　Seconds　later　he　kissed　them。　It　was　a　gentle
caress；　sweet　torture　to　Anne's　reawakening　body。　She　wound　her　arms
around　his　neck　and　felt　him　tighten　in　response。　She　was　well　now。　Her
departure　was　imminent。　If　ever　there　was　a　time　for　ardor；　this　was　it。

The　kiss　deepened　and　the　fire　grew　hotter。　With　a　wildness　borne　of
desperation；　he　thrust　his　tongue　deeper　into　her　mouth；　and　Anne　reeled
at　the　sensation。　She　would　have　happily　returned　to　the　house；　to　that
same　bedroom；　that　same　large　bed　if　he'd　asked　just　then。　But　he
didn't。

With　a　shaky　breath；　he　drew　back。　He　took　her　hand；　pressed　something
in　it；　and　closed　her　fingers。　〃I　want　you　to　take　this。　It's　a　key　to
the　place。　I　have　a　few　hectic　weeks　ahead；　but　I'll　be　up　again　at　the
end　of　March。　If　you　want　to　e　at　any　time；　I　want　you　to。〃

Anne　was　deeply　touched；　but　that　wasn't　the　only　reason　her　eyes　filled
with　tears。　Frightened　that　she　would　make　a　fool　of　herself；　she
whispered　a　soft　thanks　against　his　cheek　in　a　final　hug；　pulled　away；
and　got　into　her　car。　She　headed　down　the　sanded　road　without　a　look
behind。　Parting　was　getting　harder　and　harder。

March　in　Vermont　was　the　time　of　unlocking；　that　period　during　which　the
frozen　ground　gradually　yielded　one　frigid　layer　after　another　to　the
power　of　an　ever…stronger　sun；　when　the　brooks　and　ponds；　rivers　and
lakes　lost　their　ice　to　the　rush　of　the　downstream　current。　It　was　a
time　of　the　loud　thrashing　of　formidably　cold　waters　against　their
banks。　It　was　a　time　of　mud。

Anne　hadn't　expected　that　when　she　left　New　York。　Taking　Mitch　up　on　his
offer　and　using　his　key；　she　arrived　several　days　in　advance　of　him。　The
excitement　was　in　being　there；　in　these　hills；　in　Mitch's　house。　Nothing
could　have　kept　her　away　longer。

〃You're　going　again？〃　her　mother　had　asked　in　surprise。

Anne　was　prepared　for　the　question。　She　had　done　her　homework。　〃It's
maple…sugaring　time。　I　wouldn't　miss　it　for　the　world。〃

Her　father　had　remarked；　〃I　wouldn't　be　surprised　if　you　turned　around
and　bought　that　place。　Pretty　soon　you'll　be　spending　more　time　there
than　you　do　here。〃

It　was　an　exaggeration；　of　course。　Still；　Ann　blushed。　The　cottage
already　had　an　owner；　a　hale　and　hearty　one；　who　appeared　to　be　in　no
way　interested　in　selling。　Fortunately　her　parents　had　never　learned　of
the　stranded　car　or　the　pneumonia　fiasco；　and　they　still　knew　absolutely
nothing　about　Mitch。

Anne　was　starting　to　feel　guilty　about　that。　She　had　always　been　close
to　her　parents。　They　had　been　understanding　and　solicitous　during　her
grief　It　occurred　to　her　that　they　would　want　to　know　when　she　was
happy。

For　she　was　happy。　Knowing　that　Mitch　would　be　with　her　in　Vermont；　she
could　face　just　about　anything　else　that　arose。　His　giving　her　the　key
was　a　significant　gesture。　Now　she　had　a　steady　tie　to　the　place。

Since　returning　this　last　time；　she　had　changed。　For　one　thing；　she　had
finally　been　able　to　pack　up　Jeff's　things。　For　another；　she　was　smiling
more；　laughing　more；　eating　more。　For　a　third；　she　was　going　out　more
with　old　friends。

Strange。　For　so　much　of　the　last　year　her　apartment　had　been　her　private
retreat；　her　sanctuary　when　she　couldn't　face　the　world。　Lately；　though；
it　was　nearly　as　lonely　as　it　had　been　in　the　dreadful　days　following
the　crash。

She　missed　Mitch。　The　longing　grew　with　each　day　that　passed；　until　her
only　refuge　was　in　work　and　the　pany　of　others。　Even　then；　he　was
never　far　from　her　mind。

Now；　with　mud　streaks　covering　the　bottom　half　of　her　once…bright　yellow
car；　she　turned　onto　the　familiar　private　road。　Twice　her　tires　began　to
spin　in　the　muck；　twice　she　was　able　to　back　down　and　charge　forward
around　the　offending　mud　hole。

It　was　early　Wednesday　afternoon。　Mitch　wasn't　due　up　until　late　Friday。
Everything　seemed　larger；　emptier；　and　more　silent　without　him；　but　she
wasn't　lonely。　His　mark　was　in　every　room　of　the　house；　surrounding　her
in　a　promising　cloak。

In　his　absence；　she　applied　herself　to　menial　tasks　like　dusting；
mopping；　scrubbing　sinks　and　the　top　of　the　stove。　Oh；　she　had　brought
several　translations　to　do；　but　she　didn't　touch　either。　She　wasn't　in
the　mood　to　concentrate。

During　those　two　days；　she　did　more　baking　than　she　had　in　the　past　two
years。　She　baked　bread。　She　baked　muffins。　She　baked　cookies。　Something
about　the　rural　life　was　conducive　to　it。

Same　with　hiking。　Despite　the　mud；　she　did　it　daily。　Without　a　motor
humming；　she　could　better　hear　sounds　of　the　world　emerging　from　winter。
The　first　of　the　geese　honked　as　they　flew　in　formation　through　a　pale
blue　sky。　The　tallest　of　the　tree　branches　stretched　and　flexed　in　the
gusting　wind。　Squirrels　scurried。　Woodpeckers　pecked。　The　ground
squished。

The　snow　was　gone；　and　the　woodland　hadn't　leafed　out。　But　naked　boughs
stood　straighter；　heraking　their　resurgence。　Even　the　leggy　lilacs　by
the　cabin's　front　door　stood　proudly　in　promise　of　fragrant　blossoms。

Friday　night　came　and　went　with　no　sign　of　Mitch。

Anne　was　devastated。　She　had　cooked　a　chicken　dinner　and　opened　a　bottle
of　wine。　The　house　was　spotless　and　polished。　She　had　showered　and
dressed　in　a　pair　of　soft　wool　slacks　and　a　paisley　print　blouse；　had
brushed　her　hair　to　a　high　luster　and　draped　it　over　her　shoulders。
Though　the　soft　pink　glow　on　her　cheeks　needed　no　help；　she　had
carefully　applied　a　sheen　of　lavender　to　her　eyelids　and　a　coat　of
mascara　to　her　lashes。　On　the　third　finger　of　her　right　hand　was　the
exquisite　enameled　ring　he　had　given　her。

Well　after　midnight；　she　wrapped　the　food　and　cleaned　up　the　kitchen。　At
two　in　the　morning；　she　went　to　bed；　but　she　barely　slept。　One　ear
listened；　always　listened　for　the　sound　of　a　car。　It　never　came。

Saturday　morning；　she　was　heavy…eyed　and　disturbed。　She　went　through　all
the　possible　explanations　for　his　failure　to　appear。　He　might　have　been
hung　up　with　business　and　unable　to　reach　her。　He　might　have　forgotten
that　she　would　be　waiting。　He　might　have　decided　not　to　e　at　all。　Now
that　she　had　a　key；　she　didn't　need　him　to　let　her　in。

The　minutes　crept　by；　one　after　another；　after　another。　By　late
afternoon；　when　there　was　still　no　sign　of　the　Honda；　Anne　was　convinced
that　she　had　simply　blown　the　relationship　into　something　it　wasn't。

Then　came　the　blare　of　a　horn。　She　ran　from　the　window　seat　in　the
kitchen　to　the　front　door。　But　it　wasn't　his　horn…she　had　known　that
instantly。　While　everything　about　Mitch　oozed　of　charm；　this　sound
carried　the　rough　edge　of　a　local　pickup　truck。

〃Mrs。　Boulton？〃　barked　a　gruff　voice。　The　stocky　form　of　a　farmer；　clad
in　heavy　wool　jacket；　baggy　overalls；　and　aged　work　boots；　stepped　from
the　cab　of　the　truck　and　strode　toward　her。

〃Yes？〃　She　didn't　recognize　the　man。

〃Gut　a　message　for　ya。　From　a　fella　named　Cooper。　Phoned　the　police
station。　Sorry　for　the　delay。〃　He　handed　the　crumpled　paper　into　Anne's
outstretched　hand；　touched　a　callused　hand　to　his　cap's　bill；　climbed
back　in　his　truck；　and　was　gone。

Nervously　she　unfolded　the　paper。　The　scrawl　was　nearly　illegible。
〃Unavoidable　delay。　Mitch　arriving　Sunday　night。　Miles　Cooper。〃

With　a　tired　sigh　she　cast　a　glance　down　the　empty　road。　Another　whole
day　to　wait。　Unavoidable　delay。　She　wondered　what　that　meant　but　it
didn't　keep　her　awake　that　night。　Exhausted　from　the　night　before；　she
slept　deeply。

Sunday　brought　rain；　and　a　dark；　gloomy　day。　Anne　went　out　for　a　walk
anyway；　did　a　crossword　puzzle；　sat　at　the　window　for　what　seemed　hours。
By　midafternoon；　she　was　champing　at　the　bit。　With　neither　cleaning　nor
baking　left　to　do；　she　did　some　translating。　When　she　finally　heard　a
distant　car；　the　dim　light　of　day　had　long　since　yielded　to　night。　But
the　growing　purr　was　familiar。　Without　doubt；　it　was　the　Honda。

Excited；　she　opened　the　front　door。　It　seemed　an　eternity　before　he
finally　climbed　from　the　car；　wrested　his　bags　from　the　trunk；　and
bolted　through　the　rain　toward　the　house。　When　he　brushed　past　her
without　a　direct　glance；　she　knew　something　was　wrong。

She　closed　the　door　on　the　rawness　of　the　night；　and　turned　to　see　him
drop　the　bags；　throw　off　his　overcoat；　and　head　for　the　fire；　all
without　a　word。　Unsure；　she　sank　down　on　the　sofa　and　waited。

The　man　reached　out　to　her　both　physically　and　emotionally。　He　wore　a
beige　sweater　and　brown　corduroy　slacks；　and　looked　as　strong　and　fit　as
ever。　But　it　was　the　fatigue；　suggested　by　his　bent　head　and　the　limp
hand　in　his　pocket；　that　made　the　greatest　impression　on　her。　She　ached
to　help；　but　she　feared　rebuff。　So　she　remained　silent。

For　a　time；　frowning　at　the　fire；　Mitch　seemed　oblivious　to　her
presence。　Needing　to　make　some　small　gesture；　she　went　quietly　to　the
kitchen　and　returned　with　a　mug　of　strong　black　coffee。

〃Have　something　hot；　Mitch。　It　was　a　long　drive。〃

He　looked　at　her　so　suddenly　that　she　knew　his　mind　had　been　miles　away。
Without　a　word　of　either　greeting　or　explanation；　he　accepted　the　cup
and　returned　to　his　brooding。　Again　Anne　waited；　fearing　what　was　wrong；
but　needing　to　be　there。

Finally；　he　put　his　head　back；　drew　in　a　great　breath；　straightened；　and
turned。　His　eyes　were　tired；　his　face　more　drawn　than　she　remembered　it。
He　drank　the　last　of　his　coffee　and　set　the　mug　on　the　mantel。　His　smile
was　wan；　but　it　was　a　smile。　〃You're　looking　well。〃

She　rested　her　chin　on　her　knees；　which　were　drawn　up　and　held　by　her
arms。　〃I　have　been；　thanks　to　you。　The　antibiotic　did　the　trick。〃

〃No　more　trouble？〃　When　she　shook　her　head；　he　said；　〃That's　good；〃　and
looked　back　at　the　fire。

〃What's　wrong；　Mitch？〃

He　sh