nne grew
more and more attached to the child。 Even knowing that Mitch contrived
it didn't detract from the pleasure Anne took in simple custodial things
like bathing her； bing those long blond curls； helping retie the
shoelaces that came undone after Rachel laboriously tied them herself。
There were substantive things to cherish； like cookie baking； hikes in
the woods； and reading stories before the fire at night。
And if Anne was in love； she felt it ing right back from Rachel。 Such
innocent； heartfelt； freely given affection was the most precious thing
in the world。
Staying indifferent to Mitch was a problem； but she did her best and； to
his credit； he didn't push。 She slept upstairs； he slept downstairs；
with Rachel in a sleeping bag on the floor of his room。 By Wednesday
morning； though； Anne felt she was walking a tight…rope of conflicting
emotions； with Mitch watching from morning to night to see which way she
would go。
Memory nagged。 She remembered beautiful times here with Mitch； innocent
times of fulfillment and love。 She might put them aside in New York； but
they were more real here and harder to flee。
Still she tried。 〃I'm going for a walk；〃 she announced after a
postbreakfast bit of brooding。
〃That's a good idea；〃 Mitch said without mockery； but then； his
gentleness was part of the torture。 〃Take your time。 I think