〃Mitch…〃 Her hoarse call caught him at the door。 〃Your arm…is it all
right to shovel？〃
She heard a sharp intake of breath； then a grunt。 〃It'll do。〃
While he was gone； she suffered。 Her head hurt； her sinuses hurt； her
throat hurt； her chest hurt； her legs hurt。 Curled up in misery； she
prayed for sleep。
She must have dozed off； because it seemed only minutes before Mitch
returned with a gruff foot…stamping at the front door。 Lacking the
strength to call out； she waited until he appeared by her bedside； ruddy
checked from the cold； but eager to pack her up and leave。
He did it without a fuss； simply snatching her up； quilt and all； and
carrying her out。 He stopped short at the front door。 Swearing softly；
he back tracked and deposited her on the sofa； went into the kitchen；
and returned with her wool hat； which was now warm and dry。 He put it on
her head； scooped her up again and didn't put her down until they
reached his car。
She wheezed heavily for most of the trip into the village。 Between
darkness and the new walls of snow lining the roads； there wasn't much
for the headlights to pick out。
He parked in front of a tiny clinic； ran around the car； and hoisted her
up。 He had had the driver of the plow call ahead。 A doctor was waiting
inside。
Thirty minutes later he carried her back to the car。 〃Bronchial
pneumonia。