The first of the geese honked as they flew in formation through a pale blue sky。 The tallest of the tree branches stretched and flexed in the gusting wind。 Squirrels scurried。 Woodpeckers pecked。 The ground squished。 The snow was gone； and the woodland hadn"t leafed out。 But naked boughs stood straighter； heraking their resurgence。 Even the leggy lilacs by the cabin"s front door stood proudly in promise of fragrant blossoms。 Friday night came and went with no sign of Mitch。 Anne was devastated。 She had cooked a chicken dinner and opened a bottle of wine。 The house was spotless and polished。 She had showered and dressed in a pair of soft wool slacks and a paisley print blouse； had brushed her hair to a high luster and draped it over her shoulders。 Though the soft pink glow on her cheeks needed no help； she had carefully applied a sheen of lavender to her eyelids and a coat of mascara to her lashes。 On the third finger of her right hand was the exquisite enameled ring he had given her。 Well after midnight； she wrapped the food and cleaned up the kitchen。 At two in the morning； she went to bed； but she barely slept。 One ear listened； always listened for the sound of a car。 It never came。 Saturday morning； she was heavy…eyed and disturbed。 She went through all the possible explanations for his failure to appear。 He might have been hung up with business and unable to reach her。 He might have forgotten that she would be waiting。 He might have decided not to e at all。 Now that she had a key； she didn"t need him to let her in。 The minutes crept by； one after another； after another。 By late afternoon； when there was still no sign of the Honda； Anne was convinced that she had simply blown the relationship into something it wasn"t。 Then came the blare of a horn。 She ran from the window seat in the kitchen to the front door。 But it wasn"t his horn…she had known that instantly。 While everything about Mitch oozed of charm； this sound carried the rough edge of a local pickup truck。 〃Mrs。 Boulton？〃 barked a gruff voice。 The stocky form of a farmer； clad in heavy wool jacket； baggy overalls； and aged work boots； stepped from the cab of the truck and strode toward her。 〃Yes？〃 She didn"t recognize the man。 〃Gut a message for ya。 From a fella named Cooper。 Phoned the police station。 Sorry for the delay。〃 He handed the crumpled paper into Anne"s outstretched hand； touched a callused hand to his cap"s bill； climbed back in his truck； and was gone。 Nervously she unfolded the paper。 The scrawl was nearly illegible。 〃Unavoidable delay。 Mitch arriving Sunday night。 Miles Cooper。〃 With a tired sigh she cast a glance down the empty road。 Another whole day to wait。 Unavoidable delay。 She wondered what that meant but it didn"t keep her awake that night。 Exhausted from the night before； she slept deeply。 Sunday brought rain； and a dark； gloomy day。 Anne went out for a walk anyway； did a crossword puzzle； sat at the window for what seemed hours。 By midafternoon； she was champing at the bit。 With neither cleaning nor baking left to do； she did some translating。 When she finally heard a distant car； the dim light of day had long since yielded to night。 But the growing purr was familiar。 Without doubt； it was the Honda。 Excited； she opened the front door。 It seemed an eternity before he finally climbed from the car； wrested his bags from the trunk； and bolted through the rain toward the house。 When he brushed past her without a direct glance； she knew something was wrong。 She closed the door on the rawness of the night； and turned to see him drop the bags； throw off his overcoat； and head for the fire； all without a word。 Unsure； she sank down on the sofa and waited。 The man reached out to her both physically and emotionally。 He wore a beige sweater and brown corduroy slacks； and looked as strong and fit as ever。 But it was the fatigue； suggested by his bent head and the limp hand in his pocket； that made the greatest impression on her。 She ached to help； but she feared rebuff。 So she remained silent。 For a time； frowning at the fire； Mitch seemed oblivious to her presence。 Needing to make some small gesture； she went quietly to the kitchen and returned with a mug of strong black coffee。 〃Have something hot； Mitch。 It was a long drive。〃 He looked at her so suddenly that she knew his mind had been miles away。 Without a word of either greeting or explanation； he accepted the cup and returned to his brooding。 Again Anne waited； fearing what was wrong； but needing to be there。 Finally； he put his head back； drew in a great breath； straightened； and turned。 His eyes were tired； his face more drawn than she remembered it。 He drank the last of his coffee and set the mug on the mantel。 His smile was wan； but it was a smile。 〃You"re looking well。〃 She rested her chin on her knees； which were drawn up and held by her arms。 〃I have been； thanks to you。 The antibiotic did the trick。〃 〃No more trouble？〃 When she shook her head； he said； 〃That"s good；〃 and looked back at the fire。 〃What"s wrong； Mitch？〃 He shot her a dry look。 〃Don"t ask。 I wouldn"t know where to begin。〃 〃Was it a bad drive up？〃 〃The usual。〃 A silence followed。 〃I received the message；〃 she tried。 〃Thanks for sending it。〃 〃I didn"t want you waiting。〃 Or worrying； she added silently； bitterly。 His aloofness scared her。 It suggested he hadn"t wanted to e at all。 Perhaps he even regretted having given her the key。 〃Would you like me to leave； Mitch？〃 He looked at her like she was deft。 〃Of course not。 Why do you suggest that？〃 〃Because you"re two days late； then you walk in here like a zombie and stare at the fire。 It occurs to me that you might just want your house to yourself〃 〃If I had wanted that； I"d never have given you a key to the place。〃 〃Why did you？ I keep asking myself that； but I can"t e up with a good answer。〃 〃I wanted you to have access to the place whenever you wanted。〃 Gewhy？〃 〃That"s a crazy question。〃 〃And this is a crazy situation。〃 He went to the front window and stared out at the darkness。 〃I never promised y