rekindled(英文版)-第32部分

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against　him；　in　an　instant。

〃Don't　ever　do　that　again！〃　he　muttered　and；　as　suddenly　as　he'd　seized
her；　let　her　go。　He　took　long　steps　toward　the　door　before　stopping
short。

Anne　was　stunned；　short　of　breath；　wondering　what　was　ing　next。

One　lithe　stride　brought　him　back。　To　her　astonishment　he　framed　her
face　with　his　hands；　placed　a　hard　kiss　on　her　lips；　then　walked　off
again。

〃What　was　that　for？〃　she　cried。

〃Moist　eggs　and　strong　black　coffee。〃　He　half…turned　at　the　door。　〃I
have　a　couple　of　things　to　do。　Find　something　to　keep　you　busy　for　an
hour；　then　we'll　leave　for　the　village。〃

It　wasn't　a　question；　and　he　didn't　wait　for　an　answer。　That　was　what
kept　Anne　busy　while　she　unpacked　her　bags　in　the　attic　bedroom。　She
brooded。　She　agonized。　She　wondered　why　she　had　e　and　why　she　ever
wanted　his　kiss。　Mitch　whoever…he…was　was　stubborn　and　selfcentered。　He
was　the　exact　opposite　of　gentle；　caring；　generous…to…a…fault　Jeff。

But　Jeff　was　dead。

An　art　teacher　had　once　told　her　that　a　painting　was　successful　when　it
evoked　a　reaction；　be　it　positive　or　negative。　For　Anne；　the　months
since　Jeff's　death　had　been　devoid　of　reaction；　until　Mitch。

So　where　did　she　go　from　there？　Into　bed　with　the　man　at　the　very　first
chance？

Unsettled　by　that　thought；　she　exchanged　her　city　skirt　for　a　sweater
and　jeans；　grabbed　her　heavy　parka；　and　ran　down　the　stairs。　She　needed
fresh　air　and　a　long　walk。

She　barely　got　out　the　back　door　when　she　spotted　Mitch　in　the　yard
splitting　logs　for　the　fire。　Bundled　in　a　sheepskin　jacket　with　its
collar　raised；　he　didn't　see　her。　Time　and　again　he　raised　the　ax　and
struck；　time　and　again　splitting　each　new　log　with　a　single　sweep　of　the
blade；　and　all　with　his　right　arm。　She　wondered　how　the　left　had　been
injured。　It　was　none　of　her　business。　Still　she　wondered。

She　joined　him　in　the　yard　and　sat　quietly　on　a　pile　of　logs　while　he
finished　his　work；　then　as　quietly　helped　carry　the　wood　into　the　house
and　stack　it　by　the　fireplace。　Shortly　after　that；　they　left　for　the
village。

In　the　confines　of　the　car；　he　was　more　imposing　than　ever。　His　hands
were　strong　on　the　wheel；　his　thigh　strong　when　he　braked。　In　profile；
his　hair　was　a　thick　silver…blond；　his　eyes　alert；　his　nose；　lips；　and
chin　classically　chiseled。　Everything　about　him　spoke　of　mand；　of　a
man　with　a　mind　of　his　own。　But　she　knew　that　already。

They　bought　food。　They　drove　home。　They　did　fine　right　through　dinner；
sticking　to　general　topics　like　politics；　the　economy；　and　the　oning
winter　in　the　mountains。　They　disagreed　on　some　things；　but　could　listen
to　the　other's　point　of　view。

They　didn't　run　into　trouble　until　the　last　of　the　peach　melba
disappeared。　Then　he　asked；　〃Why　did　you　decide　to　e　up　here　this
time；　Anne？〃

It　was　inevitable　that　the　talk　would　turn　personal　on　some　level；　and
she　had　nothing　to　hide。　〃I　realized　that　you　were　right。　The　holidays
are　closing　in。　I'm　hoping　to　take　home　a　little　extra　strength。　They'll
be　tough。〃

His　voice　iss　him　a　lot？〃

〃Yes。　It　isn't　as　bad　as　it　was。　I　can　accept　that　he's　gone　now。　I'm
used　to　waking　up　without　him。　The　people　around　me　are　having　more
trouble。　They're　sometimes　so　solicitous　it'd　make　you　sick。
Thanksgiving's　apt　to　be　one　long　let's…cheer…up…Anne　ordeal。〃

Mitch　blew　out　a　breath。　〃Oh；　boy。　I　know　what　you　mean　there。〃

〃How　so？〃　she　asked；　not　letting　it　go　this　time。　〃Are　you　married？〃

Lips　pursed；　he　studied　his　hands。　〃No。〃

〃Have　you　ever　been　married？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Are　you　divorced？〃

〃No。〃

〃Separated？〃

〃No。〃

There　was　only　one　other　possibility。　It　made　sense　on　many　different
levels。

〃My　wife　died；〃　he　said；　looking　at　her　now。

Anne　saw　the　pain　in　his　eyes。　〃I'm　sorry。　You　must　have　loved　her　very
much。〃

&（l　did。〃

〃How　did　she　die？〃

His　jaw　clenched；　and　anger　joined　the　pain。　She　was　wondering　if　the
anger　was　directed　at　her；　when　he　grew　mellow　again。　〃I'd　rather　not　go
into　it。　That'd　be　getting　more　personal　than　we　planned。〃

〃But　it　helps　to　talk　sometimes。　Doesn't　it？　I　mean；　if　you're　angry…〃

〃Who's　angry？〃

〃I　thought　I　saw…〃

〃What　about　your　anger？　I've　heard　it；　you　know。　Do　you　talk　about　it？〃
He　pushed　his　chair　back　but　didn't　rise。　Both　hands　clutched　the　edge
of　the　table。　〃You　don't　know　what　I'm　feeling。　You　don't　know　anything
about　me；　about　my　work；　my　responsibilities。　How　can　you　be　so
sanctimonious？〃

She　recoiled。　〃Sanctimonious？　I　was　just　trying　to　help。　After　what　I
went　through　not　so　long　ago；　I　may　be　feeling　some　of　what　you　are；　and
yes；　I　may　want　to　talk　about　it。　I　may　want　a　little　help；　myself。〃

The　confession　startled　her。　She　was　wondering　where　it　had　e　from；
when　Mitch　sat　back　and　asked　quietly；　〃How　did　Jeff　die？〃

She　glanced　around　the　room；　but　there　was　no　avoiding　the　issue。　So　she
studied　her　wedding　band。　〃He　was　in　an　accident。〃

〃I　know　that。　But　what　kind？　Were　you　with　him？〃

She　shook　her　head。　〃No。〃

〃Tell　me。〃

〃He　was　on　a　business　trip。　The　plane　went　down。〃

In　the　silence　that　followed；　she　raised　her　eyes。　Mitch　looked　pale。
〃When　did　it　happen？〃　he　asked。

〃Last　January。〃　He　flinched。　It　was　a　while　before　he　said；　〃It's　been
nearly　a　year。　Do　you　date　at　all？〃

〃No。〃

〃You　should。〃

〃Now　look　who's　being　sanctimonious。　When　did　your　wife　die？〃

〃Last　winter。〃　He　held　her　gaze。

〃Do　you　date？〃　It　was　a　foolish　question。　She　knew　it　the　minute　she　saw
the　wry　twist　of　his　mouth。

〃I'm　not　sure　you'd　call　it　dating。　When　I　want　a　woman；　I　get　one。〃　He
took　a　breath；　paused　on　the　verge　of　saying　more；　then　dropped　it。　〃At
any　rate；　I　have　other　obligations。〃

〃Female…related　obligations？〃

He　watched　her　closely。　〃Yes。〃

〃see。〃

〃No；　I　doubt　you　do。　But　maybe　that's　better　for　now。〃

She　didn't　know　what　he　meant；　but　she　wasn't　asking。　She　had　too　much
pride。　Besides；　questions　weren't　part　of　the　deal。　If　she　hadn't　asked
that　last　one；　she　wouldn't　be　feeling　suddenly　low。

Mitch　stirred。　〃Do　me　a　favor？〃　His　eyes　were　softer。　〃Take　those　pins
out　of　your　hair　and　put　a　red　ribbon　in　it。〃

〃I　don't　have　a　red　ribbon。〃

〃Anything　bright　will　do。〃

〃Am　I　that　depressing　to　be　with？〃

He　left　his　seat　then　and　circled　the　table。　〃No；　Annie。　I've　never
found　you　depressing。〃　He　began　removing　the　hairpins　and　didn't　stop
until　he　had　her　hair　spread　over　her　shoulders。　Then　he　hunkered　down
so　that　he　was　closer　to　eye　level。　〃But　I　think　you　overdo　the
starkness。　You　don't　have　to　punish　yourself　for　your　husband's　death。
Losing　him　is　ample　punishment　all　by　itself。〃

She　had　to　hand　it　to　him。　He　was　perceptive　enough；　but　she　assumed
that　he　spoke　from　experience。　So　what　was　his　punishment？　His　arm？

Those　other　obligations　he　mentioned？

But　he　didn't　appear　to　be　thinking　of　other　obligations　just　then。　He
was　fingering　her　hair；　seeming　entranced　by　its　sheen。　〃You　look　so
pretty　with　your　hair　down；　Anne。〃

When　his　eyes　rose；　her　stomach　flipped　over。　They　could　talk　all　they
wanted　about　not　being　ready　for　this；　but　when　they　were　close；　it　just
happened。　His　eyes　fell　to　her　lips。　He　rubbed　them　with　a　thumb；　then
leaned　forward　and　touched　them　with　his　tongue。　The　tip　of　his　tongue。
'tracing　her　mouth　from　corner　to　corner　with　devastating　leisure。

Anne　liked　what　he　did。　She　closed　her　eyes　and　sighed；　enjoying　each
small　touch　for　the　pleasure　it　brought。　When　she　began　to　tremble；　she
clutched　Mitch's　shoulders。　They　were　made　for　that；　for　clutching。　They
were　large；　solid；　and　warm。

But　part　of　being　pleasured　was　pleasuring　back。　It　was　instinctive；　and
no　hardship　at　all；　because　she　was　hungry。　What　he　did　satisfied　her
for　only　a　short　time。　She　moved　her　mouth　and　found　more；　moved　her
tongue　and　found　even　more；　and　above　it　all　were　the　throaty　sounds
Mitch　made；　telling　her　that　he　was　getting　hotter。

When　he　murmured；　〃Christ；〃　there　was　awe　in　his　tone。　Incredibly；
though；　he　backed　up。　He　sat　down　hard　on　the　floor；　draped　his　forearms
over　bent　knees；　and　his　forehead　on　his　wrists。　〃Christ；　〃　he
whispered；　then　raised　his　head。　His　eyes　were　filled　with　amusement　and
sex。

It　was　a　minute　before　the　sex　part　faded。　Then　he　threw　back　his　head；
dragged　in　a　long　breath；　and　hauled　himself　to　his　feel。　From　a　safe
distance；　he　said；　〃About　your　hair。　You'll　need　to　wear　something　red
or　orange　if　you're　going　to　hike　with　me　tomorrow　morning。　It's
deer…hunting　season。〃

They　spent　the　better　part　of　the　next　morning　in　the　woods。　It　was
cold；　but　Mitch　kept　her　moving；　leading　her　over　trails　she　had　never
explored；　through　gullies　she　had　never　seen。　A　red　wool　cap　kept　her
head　warm；　mittens　warmed　her　hands。

With　the　trees　bare　of　leaves；　vistas　were　open　as　they　hadn't　been　in
September。　Mitch　led　her　from　hilltop　to　hilltop；　one　view　more
far…reaching　than　the　next。　The　land　was　quiet。　Forest　creatures　were
hidden　away。　The　doe　that　had　stood　on　her　hind　legs　to　chomp　on　a　crisp
apple　now　hid　from　the　hunter。　Chipmunks　and　squirrels　were　burrowed　in
their　dens。　There　was　the　rustle　of　evergreen　boughs　in　the　wind；　the
icy　gurgle　of　the　brook　as　it　charged　downstream；　the　crunch　of　their
boots　on　the　near…frozen　ground。

Anne's　cheeks　were　as　red　as　her　cap　when　they　returned；　tired　but
exhilarated；　and　it　was　a　harbinger　of　the　days　ahead。　They　settled　into
the　fort　of　easy　panionship；　sharing　not　only　meals；　but　most
every　other　time　of　the　day。　Mitch　read　when　Anne　did；　his　eye
occasionally　catching　hers。　They　played　backgammon　in　front　of　the　fire；
and　worked　together　on　a　jigsaw　puzzle。　The　weather　held；　offering
pleasant　days　with　clear　skies；　and　an　invigorating　chill　to　the　night。
They　walked　together　and　worked　together；　Anne　on　her　translating；　Mitch
on　papers　dug　from　an　overstuffed　briefcase。　They　lived　in　the　here　and
now；　avoiding　talk　of　the　city　like　the　plague。

All　too　soon；　Anne　loaded　up　her　car　for　the　return　trip　to　New　York。
Slinging　an　arm　across　her　shoulder；　Mitch　walked　her　from　the　house　a
final　time。　The　silence　had　been　heavier　that　morning　than　at　any　other
point　in　the