at the beauty of the intricately painted design； a semiabstract por trait of sand； sea； and sun； all woven together in blues； greens； yellows； and creams。 〃It"s beautiful；〃 she breathed。 〃You never should have…〃 〃Put it on；〃 he said。 The ring fit perfectly on the third finger of her right hand； and gave her pale； slim fingers even greater delicacy。 〃There；〃 he said with a satisfied sigh。 〃That"s a little color for you。 Maybe next time a bright sweater to wear for me。〃 Next time。 The words thrilled her as much as the ring。 〃I will。 And 。。。 thank you； Mitch。 The ring is beautiful。 I"ll cherish it。〃 She put both hands up to frame his face； to trace the powerful line of his cheeks； his jaw； his chin。 Then she leaned forward and gave him a soft and heartfelt kiss。 〃I wish I had something to give you；〃 she whispered when it was done。 In a trembling breath； he said； 〃You already have； Anne。 And I thank you。〃 Anne drove north again on a Friday afternoon in the second week of February。 As the first flakes of snow began to fall； she sniffled and pulled another Kleenex from the glove box。 For the better part of the week she"d had a cold。 If she had known Mitch"s number； she might have called to cancel their meeting。 But she didn"t know it； and she wanted to see him。 She was counting on feeling better in the clean country air。 What she hadn"t counted on was the snow。 As she crossed the border from New York into Vermont； the flakes grew larger and more feathery。 They were sticking to anything and everything in sight。 Traffic had slowed with the decreased visibility； but that was a double…edged sword。 Yes； it was safer driving slower。 But it meant the trip took longer； and the longer she was on the roads； the worse they became。 She was impatient to reach the cottage。 Even aside from a hacking cough and the accumulation of snow on the windshield； she wanted to be in a place that had bee； in some ways； more real a world than the other。 The past six weeks in New York had been a way of passing time between trips。 She was happier here； more relaxed and alive with Mitch than anywhere else。 Traffic slowed another notch。 She glanced at her watch。 Two hours behind； already！ It was late afternoon。 Darkness would be here before long。 She didn"t relish driving through the storm in the dark。 She thought of stopping at an inn for the night； but feared that tomorrow wouldn"t be any better。 Besides； she had no way to contact Mitch。 He would be worried if she didn"t show up。 Her snow tires clung tentatively to the road as she turned off the highway at last。 There were still miles to go； but at least the road was smaller。 Unfortunately it was also deserted。 She pushed the small car through a blinding rage of white。 Vistas were obliterated。 Only the low fencing at the side of the road kept her on course； though how long it would be before they were covered by drifts； she didn"t know。 Her hands were white…knuckled on the wheel。 The snow was a thick wall behind her； so there was no turning back。 She peered nervously through the windshield； praying for a plow。 With each passing mile； she drove more slowly through accumulating depths。 When her pace was down to fifteen miles an hour； and she couldn"t see more than a single car"s length ahead； she felt a wave of panic。 The sense of isolation was utter and intense。 Fighting a sudden dizziness； she kept her foot on the gas。 Dusk had fallen by the time she reached the cottage cutoff。 She was so relieved to see it； that she took the turn a hair too fast。 The car skidded and fishtailed before ing to an abrupt halt several yards into the private way； lodged firmly in a snow bank at the side of the road。 Swearing under her breath； Anne worked the gear shift； alternating between forward and reverse in an attempt to free the car from the drift。 Her nerves were already taut。 Now she cursed her luck as she fumbled with the door handle； tripped out of the car； and promptly sank in snow nearly as high as her boots。 Even through rose…colored glasses； hopes for the car were low。 She peered up the hill in the direction of the house。 In ideal weather； the walk was a mile"s mild uphill challenge。 But in this blizzard？ And then there was the possibility that Mitch was stuck somewhere； too。 But he was the one with the key。 She sneezed and raised a parka…covered arm to her face。 If the door was locked； she would just have to break in。 There was no other choice。 She couldn"t go back； and she couldn"t stay here。 Packing her pockets with KLEENEX； she closed up the car。 She zipped the parka all the way； pulled its hood over her wool hat； pushed her hands into gloves； and set off。 She trudged as fast as she could through the mounting snow； lifting one leg high； then the other。 Her muscles began to ache。 Tucking her head deeper into the hood of her parka； she plodded on。 Thirty minutes passed； then another fifteen。 Exhausted； she looked around for something to rest against。 But all was white； lonely； uninviting； and bleak。 Looking back； she saw nothing but her own footsteps。 Looking ahead； she saw nothing at all。 She pushed on； absolutely； positively refusing to believe that she may have taken the wrong road。 Bone…weary and weak from coughing； she grew more frightened as the minutes passed。 Signs of life were nonexistent。 The cabin had to be somewhere。 For another half hour； she pushed herself forward； pausing occasionally to blow her nose； huffing hoarsely at the exertion； ignoring the heat on her cheeks。 Snow continued to fall； creating a fairyland that； to Anne"s bleary gaze； was nightmarishly grotesque。 She imagined being lost and freezing to death。 The road had never been this long。 Her senses blurred black with the onset of night。 Dizzy； she fell to her knees； then forced herself back up and struggled on。 Tears of fear mixed with melting snow on her fevered cheeks。 Her clothing chafed against her sweaty body。 Still she moved on。 Finally； though； she was too weak。 She collapsed on her knees and sank into a billowing drift。 Head bowed； panting with exhaustion； she fought hysteria and swayed