Anne tossed her coat on a chair。 She made coffee strong； and eggs
scrambled moist。 When the food was hot on the table； she went to the
window。 The backyard looked bare。 A dull apple or two clinging
stubbornly to lonely branches。 The firs stood out； towering over trees
that were deleafed。 They swayed gallantly in gusts of wind that sent
shivers through the tall grass below。
But the chill was out there； and Anne was in here。 She was warm and
content。
〃You're looking well；〃 Mitch said from the door。 〃A little pale； but
better than last time。〃 He was groomed meticulously now and looking
devastatingly fresh in an opermecked wool shirt and clean denims。
〃There wasn't much in the fridge；〃 she said。 〃I hope the eggs are
enough。〃
He took a chair and helped himself from the platter。 〃I thought we'd go
marketing today。 Unless；〃 he shot her a look over the rim of his coffee
cup； 〃you brought groceries。〃
〃Not this time。 I wasn't sure I'd be staying here。 I made reservations
at an inn in Woodstock just in case。〃
He sat back。 〃Were you afraid I'd attack you again？〃
〃No；〃 she said with care。 〃I wasn't sure you'd be here。 It was tentative
when you mentioned it； and since I had no way of contacting you in
between…〃
〃You could have called Miles Cooper；〃 he suggested lightly。
She looked him in the eye。 〃No； I couldn't。 So there was n