〃You're cruel。〃
She felt a grin by her ear。 〃You bring out the worst in me；〃 he said and
kept up the torment。
The flames in Anne burned hotter； threatening to reduce her to embers。
Small； unfamiliar sounds came from her throat when he eased her down on
the bed and took her breast in his mouth。 He sucked it in； bringing her
arching off the bed。 Clutching handfuls of his sweater； she was thinking
she couldn't bear any more； when he released her and whipped the sweater
over his head。 Her hands were all over him； then。 She couldn't touch him
enough。
He ground out her name through gritted teeth and crushed her to him to
stop her。 She gasped at the press of his chest against hers； the texture
against her softness； the rapid thunder of his heart。
〃I need you；〃 she cried； looking up at him。 This wasn't enough； just
wasn't enough。 〃Please？〃
〃Do you know what you're doing？〃 he asked huskily； and sucked in his
breath when she pulled at the snap of his jeans。 Seconds later her
fingers were inside； against his abdomen。 〃My God； Annie！〃 For long
seconds of indecision he stared down at her； and she was an open book；
she knew。 But she wasn't ashamed。 She might not be ready to say the
words aloud； but the depth of her love； her longing； brought tears to
her eyes。
Then something went wrong。 Suddenly his eyes grew hard。
〃Damn it！〃 he swore and released her abruptly。 Bolting from the bed； he
strode to the window； where he stood with his hands on his hips； his
legs apart； his head hung low； his shoulders heaving。 Then； swearing
again； he stalked past her and left the room。
Anne sat in stunned silence； unable to move； to think； to feel。 Finally
the chill in the air drove her under the quilt； but even then the
trembling hit her hard。 There was only one explanation for Mitch's
behavior； and it had to do with the 〃obligation〃 to which he had once
referred。 He wasn't free。
So again she wondered； Do I leave； or do I stay？ And again she reached
the same decision。 Self…destructive or not； she was staying。 She had to
be near Mitch。
But she wasn't being humiliated again。 She wasn't begging for love until
it was freely offered first。
Needing to make a statement to that effect； she slipped from bed； went
to the dresser； and pulled on a pair of corduroys and a turtleneck
sweater。 Then she went downstairs with her head held high。
But her show of confidence was wasted。 Mitch was nowhere in sight。 He
had eaten。 She saw dishes in the sink。 And the blue Honda was parked
outside。 Deflated； she guessed that he was out in the woods。
Resigned to spending the afternoon alone； Anne built a roaring fire and
settled before it。 She had a short essay to translate； and a new novel；
of the bestseller type； to read。 She set to it。
Late afternoon became early evening without a sign of Mitch。 More
restless than bored； more concerned than angry； she wandered into the
kitchen。 But she didn't have it in her to make dinner； so she returned
to the fireplace。
Not long after； the back door opened and shut。 Heavy boots crossed the
kitchen floor。 A slicker…clad figure appeared。
Without a word he approached； shucking the slicker along the way and
draping it over a chair。 Then he hunkered down near her and added
another log to the fire。 When it had begun to sizzle and smoke； he
swiveled to face her。
〃Angry？〃 The fire behind him threw a halo around his head； but his face
was in shadow。 Unable to tell whether he empathized or taunted； she went
with the truth。
〃No。 I have no right to be angry。〃
〃I needed to walk。 Even wet； it was good。 I needed to think。〃
About her？ About another 〃obligation〃？ 〃You sound like you have the
weight of the world on your shoulders；〃 she teased。
〃It sometimes seems that way。〃 His voice was softer； more rueful。 〃It's
been a bad week。〃
〃Work？〃 she asked with caution。
〃No。 Work's fine。 I have good backup there。 They keep things running
when I fade out。〃
Anne sat quietly； waiting for him to say more。 If his problem wasn't
business； it had to be personal。 Suddenly； she didn't want to know。
She stood with a start。 〃I'll go make dinner。〃 He caught her wrist。
Suddenly gentle； he said； 〃It's my turn。 You did it last night。 This
time I'm cooking for you。〃
His gentleness threw her； as did his eyes； which begged her to let him
do this。 It wasn't exactly the begging she wanted； but it was something。
Trying to be as nonchalant as she could； she sank back into the chair
and held up both hands。 〃It's your house。〃
He chuckled； in a suddenly lighter mood。 One agile movement brought him
to his feet； another brought him to her。 He planted a kiss on her cheek
before she had time to pull away。
〃What was that for？〃 she asked。
〃For being a saint；〃 he said and set off。 Dinner was so panionable；
that when Tuesday morning brought bright sun； Anne wasn't surprised to
see Mitch up early to join her for breakfast。
〃It's a perfect morning to set in the spouts；〃 he said； wiping the
dishes as she washed。
〃Spouts？〃
〃We've had cold nights and warm days。 The sap should be flowing like
water。〃
Anne laughed in delight。 〃Maple…sugaring？ We can do it ourselves？ I'd
planned on visiting a local farm to watch。〃
He gave a satisfied grin。 〃Why go elsewhere when we have everything we
need right here？〃
〃Do you know what to do？〃
〃Do I know what to do？ Since when have you had cause to question my
expertise？〃
She grunted。 He was all too appealing when he was in good humor。
〃Modesty seems to have escaped you entirely。〃
He gave a short laugh。 〃No one's perfect。〃
In Anne's biased judgment； Mitch was as close to it as anyone could be
on that day and the ones that followed。 Though they hiked； read； and
rested； the bulk of their attention focused on the maple…sugaring； about
which he did indeed know almost everything。
〃The best trees have to be big； forty years old or more；〃 he explained；
when they left the house carting the tools he had produced from a shed。
〃We're using metal spouts。 This is the old…fashioned method of tapping
trees； but it works for me。〃
〃You've done this before？〃
〃Many times。〃
At the first maple that fit that bill； he drilled a small hole and
inserted a metal spout that extended several inches beyond the bark。 He
did the same at each large tree。
〃The sap generally flows between mid…March and mid…April。 I do this
whenever I'm here then。〃 With a shove； he pushed a spout into place；
then inserted one on the back side of the same tree。
〃More than one per tree？〃
〃With a tree this size； there'll be enough sap for two。 Here； you slide
this one in； while I get more buckets。〃
By the time he returned； she had done as he asked。 He fit a bucket on
the spout。
〃A sliding lid？〃 she asked； studying it。 〃I've never seen lids on sap
buckets； period。〃
A smile touched the corners of his mouth。 〃Then you've never seen a
stray horse or a field mouse drink the sap as it collects。〃
She laughed。 〃No； I haven't。〃
〃This lid doesn't always keep them out。 A persistent animal can get what
he wants。 But it helps。〃
They picked up the equipment and moved on to the next tree。
〃How much sap will we get？〃 she asked； but she was distracted watching
him as he debated where to drill。 He was a sight to behold； larger and
more rugged…looking than ever in a high…collared sheepskin jacket and
faded jeans。
He knelt before the tree and applied the drill。 〃On a good day the
bucket will fill and overflow。 On a poor day we'll get only a few
inches。〃
He grunted as he pushed the bit forward into the tree。 〃If we were to
continue for the entire length of the sapping season； we might get ten
or twenty gallons from each tree。〃
She was startled。 〃That much？ Whoa。 What would we ever do with all that
sap？〃
The hole drilled； he straightened and motioned with his finger for her
to insert the spout； which she deftly did this time with the aid of a
hammer。
〃〃All that sap；〃' he said； 〃boils down to very little。 To get one gallon
of syrup； you have to boil down anywhere from thirty…five to fifty
gallons of sap。〃
〃Ah。 That explains why genuine maple syrup costs so much。〃
Mitch went on with the lesson as he continued to work。 〃New York and
Vermont produce the most syrup in this country； though the province of
Quebec yields more than the two states bined。 Today； most of the
monly used syrups are actually a bination of maple syrup； cane
sugar syrup； and corn syrup。 If you ask me； though； there's no contest。
The straight stuff； the real thing； beats all。〃
Anne couldn't argue with that。
For a while they proceeded in silence； but it was a friendly silence； an
intimate one。 She noted that he favored his right arm； cranking the hand
drill around with it； while the other held the shaft in place。 When she
offered to take a turn； he indulged her； enjoying her struggle with a
smug smile。 When she finally gave up and turned the chore back to him；
he said； 〃That's okay； Annie。 I could never have cleaned the house the
way you did this time。〃
〃You noticed？〃
〃How could I help it；〃 he teased with a rewarding grin。 〃I was nearly
blinded by the sparkle。〃
Anne knew the feeling。 She was nearly blinded now by the sparkle in his
eyes。 When he pushed two spouts into her hand； she was temporarily
disoriented。
〃In the tree？〃 he prodded with a cockeyed grin； leaving her to recover
while he went for more buckets。
That first day； they drilled holes； inserted spouts； and hung buckets on
the largest of the maples near the house。 On succeeding days they
collected the sap that had flowed。 It was no mean feat； carting heavy
buckets from tree to house and back。
〃If we had the most modern equipment；〃 Mitch teased as she massaged the
nagging muscles of her shoulders； 〃we'd have used plastic spouts
attached to plastic tubing that would take the stuff directly from the
tree to the sugarhouse。 It's much more efficient in terms of time and
labor。〃
〃That's all okay；〃 she reasoned。 〃We don't have a sugarhouse。 Besides；
I'm gaining weight。 The exercise will do me good。〃
He looked her over。 〃Well； you're not scrawny anymore； but 。。。 in danger
of being overweight？ Not a chance。〃
〃Fine for you to say。 You did most of the work this week。〃 And he had。
He had cooked nearly every meal； in addition to doing the lion's share
of the sugaring work。
He threw an arm across her shoulders and drew her to his side。 〃I owed
you for being such a bastard when I first got here。 Most women would
have packed up and left。〃
She managed a gruff； 〃The thought did cross my mind。〃
〃I'm glad you stayed；〃 he said with affection。
There was a gleam in his hazel eyes； a softness in his smile； gentleness
in the fingers that cupped her shoulder； and a velvet edge to his voice。
All in all； it was a warm moment。 Anne mitted it to memory。
By Friday morning； there was enough sap in the large vat to begin the
boiling process。
〃They usually do this in long； shallow pans called evaporators；〃 Mitch
explained。 〃The one we're using is a little deeper than we need； but
it'll have to do。 When all the water has evaporated； we'll have pure
maple syrup。
No matter that he had done this before； his enthusiasm and genuine
en