Love's Melody Lost

by Radclyffe

See part 1 for all disclaimers and copyright information.

Silence descended on Yardley Manor as each of them struggled to accept their disappointments. Anna went about her work with quiet resignation, an aching hollowness her constant companion. Whereas once the time she spent with Graham eased her loneliness, now seeing her only seemed to heighten it. And Graham, if possible, was even more remote. They spent less time together, as Graham often absented herself from the music room in the afternoons. Instead she worked late into the night, after the others were asleep. She had begun taking her meals alone again, although the trays came back barely touched. The music that echoed in the corridors was dark and melancholy—the one place Graham could not hide her emotions was in her music. It was truly the mirror of her soul. Helen stood by helplessly, knowing that only Graham could change the course of their lives.

Late one evening, to Helen’s surprise, Graham came to the door of her sitting room.

"Graham, good gracious!" she exclaimed. "What’s wrong?"

"Helen," Graham said urgently, without preamble. "Where is Anna?"

Helen glanced at the clock on her mantle. It was almost eleven, and it occurred to her she hadn’t seen Anna all evening. "I don’t know. She wasn’t here for dinner. Hasn’t she come up?"

"No, and I haven’t heard the Jeep return," Graham remarked, barely able to hide her anxiety. In some part of her consciousness she waited for the day Anna would not return. It was impossible for her to work freely when Anna wasn’t about the house or grounds. Especially recently, since their estrangement, she found herself listening for Anna's step in the hall or the distinctive crunch of gravel in the drive. As much as she expected Anna to leave, she feared it. When it happened, she would lose whatever small purchase on life she had left.

Helen could read the fear in Graham’s face. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have worried, but Anna hadn’t been herself lately. Since the night they talked in the kitchen, Anna had been distracted and almost dazed. Helen worried she might have had an accident.

It was hard for Helen not to think of that awful night when the call had come about Graham. She remembered only too well the agonizing hour they had all spent while men worked to free her from the wreckage. It was an hour spent not knowing if she were still alive. Helen struggled to dispel the image and quell the surge of alarm. Anna must simply have forgotten to mention her plans. Any other possibility was more than she could bear to contemplate.

She struggled to keep her voice even. "I’m sure she’s fine, Graham. Go on to bed. I’ll be up. If there’s any problem, she’ll call."

A look of panic flickered across Graham’s face. Helen knew as well as she that Anna never absented herself without word. With effort she said evenly, "Of course, you’re right. Just the same, I’ll wait in the library in case she calls."

Helen listened to the echo of her retreating steps, losing sight of her as she descended the dark stairway with a measured step. She knew Graham was every bit as stretched to the limit as Anna seemed to be. She wondered fearfully which one of them would lose the thin rein of control first.

The hallway was dark when Anna let herself into the house just after one in the morning. She jumped when a voice called out to her.

"Anna?"

Anna fumbled for the light switch as she stepped into the library. Graham was seated in a chair before the window that fronted the main drive, as she had been for hours.

"Graham?" Anna asked in surprise "What are you doing in here?"

"We were worried—Helen and I. I was waiting in case you called." Graham rose, and began to pace restlessly. "Although god knows what I thought I could do about it if you were in trouble," she laughed bitterly. "We make a fine pair, Helen and I. One who can’t drive, and the other one blind!"

"Oh god, Graham," Anna cried. "I stayed to have dinner with my graduate advisor—it wasn’t planned. I should have called, but we started talking and I lost track of the time!" She felt miserable for having worried either of them.

Graham made an impatient gesture, infuriated with her helplessness, embarrassed by her near panic. "Nonsense. You don’t owe either of us an explanation. Your private life is none of our affair. Where you spend your time- and with whom, does not concern us."

Anna gaped at her. She had to be the most infuriating woman she had ever met! "Is that what you think? That I was out on a date for god’s sake?"

Graham straightened her shoulders, anger replacing her worry. There was no need for Anna to know she had spent several anxious hours fearing she had left for good. "I don’t think anything one way or the other, nor do I care. As I said-"

"I know damn well what you said, Graham," Anna seethed, absolutely beyond caring whether she offended Graham or not. "What I don’t understand is why you said it! You know very well how I feel about you, whether you chose to acknowledge it or not. I’ve done everything short of begging you!! Don’t insult me by suggesting I would simply wander off and find consolation elsewhere. Do you think you’re the only one capable of a true and honorable emotion?? Damn your arrogance!"

"It was not my intention to insult you, Anna," Graham replied in an amazingly calm tone. She couldn’t remember the last time someone raised their voice to her, other than Christine. Anna’s sincere distress had a greater affect on her than Christine’s tirades ever had. "I did not mean for us to come to this," she said softly. "I never meant to misrepresent myself to you in any way."

"Don’t worry, Graham. You haven’t," Anna snapped. "It is I who have been mistaken, but I assure you, I will not trouble you again!" She grabbed her knapsack, intent on retreating before she completely lost the last vestige of restraint. She had tried so hard to be patient, to accept the depth of Graham’s loss and disappointment, but it hadn’t made any difference and she doubted it ever would.

"I have legal matters that require your assistance. I’ll need to meet with you tomorrow," Graham said as Anna stepped out into the hall. She hated this animosity between them, but there seemed no other way.

"Certainly," Anna rejoined coldly. "I’ll see you in the afternoon."

Anna left her there, but she could not bring herself to turn out the light, even though the darkness would not matter to Graham.

**********

Anna worked furiously—digging up buried roots with a spade, slashing through briars with a machete, flinging clods of earth aside with a vengeance. Her pace matched her mood—she was still boiling. She wasn’t sure whom she was angrier with—Graham or herself. What had she expected? Graham Yardley was a wealthy, gifted woman who had known both fame and great passion in her life. Under any circumstances she would hardly be expected to notice someone like Anna, and now, after all she had suffered, she had no special feeling for Anna. Anna struggled for acceptance, but it was so hard! What she felt for Graham went so far beyond anything she had experienced, or dreamed of experiencing. The wanting surpassed simple desire—she felt inextricably linked to her, body and soul. When she saw Graham across the room, when the sound of her voice carried out into the garden, when she heard her piano whisper in the night, fire surged through Anna’s being. Some primal part of her had been called forth by this woman. The combination of Graham’s great strength and her great need had awakened Anna’s deepest passion. To be near her, and so apart, was unendurable.

She was beginning to contemplate the unthinkable. She might need to leave Yardley. She didn’t have the strength to subjugate her desires to reason - she simply couldn’t be around Graham and not want her. For a few months she had managed to be content with their carefully contained relationship, but since the instant they had kissed, all that had changed. She couldn’t forget it, and she couldn’t stop wanting it again. She would lose her mind if she stayed, and if she left she would lose her soul. It was a choice that was no choice at all, and she cursed her own indecisiveness under her breath. She rubbed the tears from her face and grabbed her ax. She intended to cut down every dead limb at Yardley before the day was out!!

While Anna warred with her emotions and the tangled undergrowth, Graham paced the flagstone terrace fighting her own demons. She knew she was hurting Anna by refusing to acknowledge what was between them, and she had no answer for it. Anna had restored life to Yardley, and to her—with Anna had come the scent of fresh flowers and the teasing sound of notes in the air. Graham had responded to both as if light had suddenly been returned to her world. Her heart lifted to the sounds of Anna’s footsteps in the hall. Anna’s presence had muted the pain of years of loneliness. But Anna had awakened other senses as well—Graham knew the touch of her hands, the warmth of her skin, the soft fullness of her breasts. She knew the bruising demand of Anna’s kiss as her lips searched against Graham’s mouth. If she made love to her, she would have to acknowledge what was in her heart. If she gave freedom to everything Anna ignited in her, she would never be able to live without her. That was what Graham retreated from—she dared not entrust her soul again, and she could not love any other way.

They sat thus, separated not by distance, but by uncertainty.

**********

Anna sighed and stepped back from the line of trees she had been pruning. She could hear the delicate strains of the music Graham was playing wafting on the breeze. She glanced up at the sky, noting absently that clouds were amassing out over the ocean. She reached for her worn denim work jacket as the sudden wind off the water brought a brisk chill to the air. She didn’t want to return to the house yet, she still felt too unsettled. She needed to fortify herself before she joined Graham in her music room for their late afternoon meeting.

Graham looked up from the keyboard as the curtains floated into the room on a chill breeze. The weight of the air on her face was dense and wet. Something ominous was stirring, and one word clamored in her mind - Anna! She bolted up from the piano bench in a rush, pushing the terrace doors wide as she stormed through them. From the top of the stairs leading down the flagstone path to the lower reaches of the property, she called out into the gathering wind.

"Anna!!"

Anna looked up at the sound of Graham’s voice, amazed to see the sky blackening around her. The rain and heavy winds were upon her before she knew it. In an instant a blinding wall of water blew in from the sea, drenching her and turning the garden path into a hundred yards of steep, slippery mud. To her horror she saw Graham start down toward her.

"Graham! No, go back!!" she cried, paralyzed with fear at the thought of Graham exposed in the storm. "Go back! I’m coming up."

Abandoning her tools, Anna began to climb the path, struggling to keep her balance in the buffeting winds and pounding rain. Tree branches bent and broke in the wind, hurtling by in the swirling gale. Lightening flashed around her, and the house seemed impossibly far away. She heard a tremendous crash to her left and knew, even as she knew she could not move quickly enough to avoid it, that the old sycamore had been struck by lightening. She threw up an arm to shield her face and cried out as falling branches and limbs engulfed her. There was an instant of white-hot pain in her shoulder just as she met the ground with a jarring thud.

Her first sensation after the initial shock was of the penetrating cold that encompassed her. The ground beneath her cheek was sodden, and her denim jeans and shirt clung to her clammy skin. The cold was almost instantly replaced with a stabbing pain in her left side and a throbbing ache in the back of her head. Her next thought was even more terrifying. Where was Graham!? Oh my god! She’s out in this storm alone!

She pushed at the overlying branches holding her captive, managing only to worsen the pain in her arm. She fought against the need to vomit, finally ceasing her ineffective struggles. She dropped her head back to the wet ground and waited for the nausea to subside. Time seemed to slow as water dripped through the fallen tree’s leaves onto her face. At some point through her disorientation she thought she could hear voices.

"For god’s sake man, hurry!"

Anna recognized Graham’s deep voice, harsh with fear. Anna struggled to call Graham's name, to tell her she was all right, but all that emerged was a faint groan. She shouldn’t be out here, she thought hysterically.

"Graham," she finally croaked. "be careful!"

"Anna- thank god!" Graham shouted, her voice choked with anxiety. "Are you hurt, love?"

"I don’t think so," Anna said as steadily as she could. In truth she was more worried about Graham than she was about her own scrapes and bruises. "Go inside - call someone to help. Please Graham, please don’t stay out here- go back to the house! Just do it for me!"

"Damn if I will!! We’ll have you free in a moment. Just hang on, Anna!" Graham called from somewhere quite close. "Damn it, John, can’t you go any faster?" She pulled at the tree limbs in front of her, nearly mad with frustration at her inability to reach Anna. She was impervious to the branches that slashed at her hands and face. God, how she hated her blindness!

"I almost have the limb free, ma’am, but it would help if you’d move back. We don’t need both of you under this damn tree."

Graham turned angry eyes toward the man beside her and growled, "I’m not moving until you get her out."

A tremendous creak accompanied the shifting of the huge fork of limb that imprisoned Anna, and she cried out as the weight of the tree shifted off her tender body. Suddenly Graham was beside her, reaching a tentative, trembling hand toward her.

"Don’t move," Graham whispered softly, "you’re safe now. John will have the rest of it off in a minute."

Graham settled on the muddy slope, unmindful of the water or the cold, and very gently lifted Anna’s head into her lap. Despite her pain, Anna lifted both arms around Graham’s neck, pressing her face against her chest.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Anna whispered, clutching her tightly.

"I’ll not leave you," Graham replied, struggling to contain tears. She rocked Anna tenderly as she buried her face in Anna’s damp hair. "I’m here."

Anna scarcely felt any pain as she thrilled to the comfort of Graham’s presence. As more of the tree was removed she tried moving her legs. Everything worked but she gasped as a multitude of small cuts began to burn.

"Where are you hurt?" Graham asked when she had control of herself again.

"My shoulder, but I don’t think anything’s broken." Anna began to realize that both of them were shivering nearly uncontrollably. "Graham," she chattered, "you have to get inside. Let me stand up."

"We’d better wait for the doctor. And I’m not leaving you." Graham swore inwardly at her own helplessness, even as she began to believe Anna was safe. For a few agonizing minutes she had feared she had lost her. She heard the tree cracking and Anna’s cry as it fell. Helen had confirmed her fear that Anna had been trapped under the downed tree, and the panic that followed almost proved to be Graham’s undoing. All she could think of was that Anna was gone, a realization so painful she thought she would go mad. It was Helen who had the presence of mind to call both the family doctor as well as an old friend who lived nearby for help. She couldn’t stop Graham from rushing headlong down the treacherous path, only to be unable to find Anna in the tangle of branches, flailing with anguished despair at obstacles she couldn’t see. Helen feared that Graham would do herself real harm in her rage to find the girl.

Even with Anna in her arms, Graham was afraid to loosen her hold. Her hands ceaselessly roamed over Anna’s body, seeking reassurance that Anna was safe. She didn’t realize that each shaking breath bordered on a sob. She hadn’t felt such panic since the night of the car crash, when she drifted in and out of consciousness, calling for Christine, getting no answer. She had lain in the twisted wreckage blinded by the blood in her eyes, trapped by the metal that pierced her leg, wondering frantically if she had killed Christine in her jealous rage. Had that been true, in all likelihood she would have taken her own life. Tonight, for those agonizing minutes before she heard Anna’s voice, she thought that all that remained to her of life had been taken. Her relief was so enormous, she acted without thinking. She raised Anna’s head with a hand cupped to her chin, capturing her mouth with a deep groan. Oblivious to all else, Anna returned her kiss with a hunger long denied. She gasped when Graham pulled away with a shaky laugh.

"We can’t wait any longer, Anna. You’re hurt and cold. We must get you inside." Raising her head, but maintaining her fierce hold on the woman in her arms, she called out, "John, help me to get her up!"

A tall man pulled the last of the debris free and moved through the darkness to their side. He carefully lifted Anna to her feet. Graham rose unsteadily beside them, her hand clasped in Anna’s. Together they made their way slowly up to Yardley Manor.

The doctor spoke to Graham outside Anna’s room after finishing his examination.

"She’s badly bruised, and I suspect there’s a sprain of the left shoulder, but no permanent damage. She needs to be kept warm and to get plenty of rest for the next few days. She’s going to be fine." He observed the strained, pale face of the woman before him and added, "You could use a hot bath and some rest yourself, Ms. Yardley."

"Yes, of course," Graham replied absently, her mind occupied only with her concern for Anna. She turned to push open Anna’s door and found Helen in her path.

"What is it?" she asked in exasperation. All she wanted was to be alone with Anna. She needed to be certain that she was safe.

"You’re soaked through and shaking. You need a hot bath and you’re not going in there until you have one." Helen steeled herself for what she knew was coming. As expected, Graham’s well-known temper ignited.

"Please step aside, Helen," Graham ordered, reaching toward the door. "I intend to see her, and I intend to see her now."

Very quietly, Helen responded, "Sweetheart, your face and hands are scratched and bleeding. You’re going to scare her to death if you don’t get cleaned up. Do you want her worrying about you when she should be resting?"

Graham paused, wanting to argue but knowing Helen was right. "All right, a quick one," she relented. "Please tell her I won’t be long."

It was in fact only a few moments before she approached Anna’s door once again, and smelled the aroma of hot tea. She followed the scent into Anna’s room.

Helen efficiently set up a tray and pulled a chair close to the bedside, carefully directing Graham to it.

"Now, both of you drink some of this tea," she instructed. "There’s biscuits there as well." She poured two cups, guiding Graham’s hand to them, and turned to leave. Anna’s face was white, but the eyes she fixed on Graham’s face appeared free of pain. Neither woman noticed as Helen pulled the door gently closed behind her.

"Anna?" Graham asked uncertainly, leaning forward on the edge of the bed, "Are you all right?"

"I’m much better now," Anna answered softly. Graham had a welt under her right eye and a scrape on her chin where a tree limb had struck her. Even worse were the many little cuts on her hands. Thank god none of them appeared serious. "You really shouldn’t be doing that sort of thing with your hands, you know. They’re too precious."

"Yes, well so are you," Graham replied in a moment of unguarded honesty. She was still shaken from the accident, and not being able to see Anna, to assure herself she was truly all right, was driving her mad. She attempted to rein in her emotions, teasing lightly, "I promise I won’t do it again if you promise to stay away from falling trees."

"On my honor," Anna whispered. Graham’s tenderness after their weeks of estrangement, combined with the memory of her kiss moments before, had her emotions in turmoil. She needed Graham’s comfort, and here she was, gentle and attentive.

"You should rest now," Graham murmured. She edged closer carefully, finding Anna’s hand with her own. She traced the fragile network of veins with her sensitive fingertips, allowing her hands to trail slowly up Anna’s bare arms. Anna lay transfixed, scarcely able to breathe. She had the feeling that Graham was not aware of her actions, and that as soon as Graham realized what she was doing, she would stop. Anna fervently did not want her to stop. Now that Graham had relaxed her rigid vigilance, Anna felt the full power of Graham’s emotional intensity for the first time. The possessive look on Graham’s face combined with the touch of her hands was melting her with longing. The heat rising in her body overpowered the pain of her bruises.

"I have some pills for the pain," Graham said at length. She held Anna’s hand against her cheek, her fingers folded about Anna’s. She was very slowly brushing the backs of Anna’s fingers against her skin.

"I don’t need them," Anna whispered, her throat tight with desire.

Graham brought one hand to Anna’s face and slowly ran a few strands of her hair through her fingers. It was so soft, silken - mesmerizing in its simple beauty. She wanted nothing more than to sit here like this with Anna safe beside her.

"You should sleep. I’ll be here," she murmured.

Anna drew a shuddering breath. Graham was so tender, and her touch was piercing. Anna knew she had never been touched like this before.

"You should go, Graham," Anna said with effort. She couldn’t bear the thought of Graham leaving, but Graham had been through as much as she. The hand that held hers trembled. "You look exhausted."

"Not yet," Graham said in a tone that broached no argument.

"Then at least lie down with me," Anna demanded boldly, "or I won’t sleep either."

Graham frowned. "You are rather pig-headed yourself," she remarked darkly. No one had ever been able to sway her the way Anna seemed to. Not even Christine with all her wiles had been as hard to resist.

"I’m serious, Graham," Anna persisted, detecting a rare moment of weakness in Graham’s usually impenetrable defenses. "Either you lie down with me or I’ll stay awake, too."

Graham could not bring herself to leave, although she refused to consider why. With a sigh of exasperation she stretched out beside Anna, her back against the broad head-board, one arm around Anna’s shoulders.

"All right now," Graham insisted, "close your eyes."

Almost instinctively, Anna moved so that she was reclining in Graham’s arms, her cheek against Graham’s chest. She wrapped her uninjured arm around Graham’s waist and closed her eyes. To her amazement, she soon began to drift.

"Don’t leave," she murmured groggily. If she hadn’t been compromised by physical and emotional stress, she never would have asked.

"I won’t," Graham promised, kissing the top of her head. If she hadn’t been so recently terrified for Anna’s life, she never would have stayed.

**********

It was fully dark when Anna opened her eyes. Graham was still beside her, her cheek resting against Anna’s hair, one hand rhythmically stroking the bare skin of her shoulder. In her sleep Anna had thrown one leg over Graham’s, and she lay tightly pressed to her now. Anna knew she was wet, and wondered if Graham could feel it. Anna shifted beneath the light sheet so her breasts rested more fully against Graham’s chest. She was rewarded with a swift gasp from Graham.

"Graham," she whispered, raising herself until their lips were nearly touching. She could feel the heat radiate from Graham now, too. Graham was scarcely breathing, straining for control. Anna shifted deliberately until her entire length rested upon Graham’s body. Her nipples tensed, and she rubbed them slowly back and forth across Graham's chest. When Anna rocked against Graham’s leg, a fine shudder passed through Graham’s form. Relentless now with need, Anna slipped one hand along the front of Graham’s trousers, trailing her fingers down Graham's thigh.

"Make love to me," Anna whispered in a voice husky with desire. "Please, Graham, please -I need you so much."

"I can’t," Graham choked, shaking with the effort to contain her arousal.

Anna’s hand pressed into Graham's thigh, sliding higher with deliberate strokes.

"Oh god, Anna—don’t," Graham groaned, her hips rising to Anna's touch of their own volition. She was losing focus, the aching in her pelvis traveling in waves into her belly and beyond. "You can’t know what you’re asking!"

Graham was wet against Anna's palm where she held her, and Anne saw a hunger in Graham's face that was undeniable. She sensed Graham’s fear and resistance too, but she was too far gone to care. Anna was completely at the mercy of her own driving need, motivated by an instinct as essential as that to breathe.

"I do know what I’m asking," she gasped, " and so do you! Do you want me to beg?"

Graham hesitated still, her head pounding, trying to ignore the building pressure to move against Anna’s hand. Her body was in mutiny. She was afraid she might come at the slightest touch. "Anna, you’re hurt!" she protested weakly.

"All I can feel is how much I need you to touch me. I'm ready to explode – I'm so swollen – oh, god – Graham-- " Anna groaned through a haze of overwhelming need, her body surging against the reed slender woman in her arms. She caught Graham’s hand and brought it to the aching fullness of her breast. "Please-"

With that touch Graham’s restraint broke at last. She yielded to a tidal wave of lust with a strangled cry. Her hands were upon Anna with a force that took the breath from Anna’s body. Sweeping like wildfire down the planes of Anna’s abdomen, along her thighs, ascending just as quickly to stroke her neck and breasts, Graham’s touch stirred a searing heat that set Anna’s nerve ends burning. She felt herself dissolving into molten liquid, her speech reduced to small cries that became incoherent whimpers as her body arched to Graham, desperately offering all of herself. Graham’s lips were on her neck, murmuring her name like a benediction. She eased her body over Anna’s, brushing the covers aside, one hand seeking between Anna's legs. She thrilled to the welcoming warmth, parting the engorged lips, groaning as she slipped into Anna’s silken depths. She clenched her jaw, willing herself to go slowly, struggling with the shattering urge to claim Anna with all the power of her passion.

"Oh god, Graham," Anna cried out as Graham filled her, willing her deeper, thrusting to contain all of her. Graham’s mouth bruised her lips, the fabric of Graham’s shirt chaffed her swollen nipples, and the exquisite motion of Graham’s fingers within her inflamed her senses.

"Oh, no," she gasped urgently as her hips began to rock involuntarily. Her clit was tingling, jumping with the rhythm of Graham's thrusting fingers. Oh god – not so soon! "Graham wait!" It was already too late. Muscles clenched and tightened, she sobbed as her body, long denied, found release. She clutched Graham’s shoulders, strangling on her own throaty cries. Endlessly, her peaked, only to be driven to a higher plateau by the insistent stroking of Graham’s finely tuned hands, until she lay exhausted, able only to murmur, "Enough, my darling, I’ll die from you."

Graham laughed gently, her fingers quieting, but not withdrawing. She settled Anna firmly against her, breathing into her hair, "Oh no, love, you won’t die from this. Never from this."

Through a curtain of languorous fatigue, Anna saw Graham’s dark eyes upon her face, tender and deep with passion. To see her so stopped the breath in her throat, she loved her so much. Anna pressed closer to her, whispering, "Just hold me, please."

"Anything," Graham murmured as Anna drifted into sleep.

**********

Anna awakened slowly, her body still pulsing with sensation. Graham still held her tightly. She lay with her eyes closed, savoring the sweet satisfaction of Graham’s nearness and the lingering aftermath of their lovemaking. She didn’t move when she felt a featherlight touch upon her cheek, remaining silent as Graham’s fingers traced her face. As gently as butterflies on spring blossoms, Graham stroked her brows, each eyelid, and the line of her lips and nose. With both hands she cupped Anna’s face, her thumbs brushing across the bones of her cheek to sweep along her jaw and chin. A fingertip pressed against the pulse beating in her neck, then moved to circle the curve of her ear. When at last the gently probing hands quieted on her skin, Anna questioned softly, "Can you see me?"

Graham smiled faintly. "Yes."

"You make me feel beautiful," Anna confessed shyly.

"You are beautiful, Anna." Graham kissed her softly, reverently.

Anna smiled, then stretched indolently, trying to dispel the intoxicating lethargy Graham’s touch induced. She shifted on the bed, one hand resting on Graham’s abdomen. Muscles fluttered beneath her fingers. Being this close to Graham kept her constantly aroused. It was a new experience, one that left her breathless. Graham, ever sensitive, raised one questioning eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"I want to look at you—all of you," Anna replied, tugging at Graham’s shirt, brushing her fingers along the taut muscles beneath. She slipped her hand beneath the waistband of the tailored linen trousers, her pulse racing as Graham groaned and shuddered faintly at the touch.

"Let me touch you," Anna whispered against Graham's neck. Anna's need to have this enigmatic woman was as great as her need to be taken by her just a short time ago.

Graham flushed, but sat up slightly and began to unbutton her shirt. She shrugged the soft material from her shoulders and reached for the zipper on her trousers. Anna’s hand grasped hers as Anna whispered, "Let me."

Graham raised her hips as Anna slid the last of her clothing away.

"God, you’re perfect," Anna breathed, gazing at the sweeping planes of Graham’s long form. As slowly as she knew how, Anna began to touch her, lingering over each curve and hollow of her body, exploring her with her hands and lips. Anna wanted to make this moment last forever, and even as Graham’s breathing quickened, her body undulating under Anna’s caresses, Anna went slowly. With her mouth she began a slow descent from Graham’s neck, teasing each nipple before she traced a path down Graham’s quivering abdomen. Graham opened before her, arching gently up to meet her tongue, her breath rasping in her throat. As Anna’s lips drew on her engorged clitoris, she moaned softly, her fingers entwining in Anna’s hair. Anna had never known such tender power before. She thrilled to her ability to please this woman who had given her such exquisite pleasure. Her tongue stroked each ripe fold, moving with the surges of Graham’s body, matching her rhythm to that of her beloved. She was drunk with the taste of her, drowning in her rich nectar.

Graham groaned, grasped Anna's hands tightly, and arched against her lips. "Ah, Anna – my love," she whispered brokenly, finally giving in to the relentless driving pressure to come.

Anna struggled to hear her through the deafening roar of her own raging lust. She moaned with each quake that rippled through Graham’s body, holding fast to the slender hips until Graham quieted. Were it not for Graham calling her name, she would have gladly stayed there, senses overflowing, for time out of mind. Eventually Graham's hands gently drawing her upwards brought her back to herself.

"Come here," Graham whispered, "let me feel you close to me."

Anna moved to lie beside her, her heart contracting at the sight of tears streaking Graham’s cheeks. She thought she might come apart. She wanted so much to ease the pain Graham had suffered for so long. Softly she brushed the tears away. Her lips caressed the scar on Graham’s brow, lingering over each translucent eyelid. Graham’s lips parted in silent pleasure and a long sigh escaped her.

"You make me feel more than I ever imagined possible," Anna murmured against the ivory column of Graham’s neck. "It’s almost more than my heart can contain."

Graham caressed her gently as Anna slipped once more into satisfied sleep. Graham lay quietly for a long time, trying to absorb every sensation, every sound, every scent that was Anna. She filled her heart, and her mind, and her memory with her. At last she slipped from the bed, leaning down to softly kiss the sleeping woman.

"You are more beautiful than any music I have ever heard," she whispered.

**********

The sun rose over Yardley’s grand expanses, but the brilliance of the changing dawn colors was lost on the woman who stood high above the sea. The brisk ocean breeze tossed her hair into her eyes, but she did not lift a hand to shield them. The tears on her face were not from the wind, nor the shivering in her body from the piercing cold. In the long years of her exile, she had never been so alone. Her defenses had been breached, her heart wrent by the gentle touch of a woman’s lips. She remembered with shattering clarity each sensation - the longing, and the wonder, and the miracle of communion, body and soul. She could not drive the memory of the past from her thoughts - the complete desolation of the spirit she had suffered when Christine left her. She feared that ultimately her need would force Anna to leave her, too. She knew with utter certainty that this would be a pain she could not bear a second time in her life. Despite the years, the wounds still bled, and she could not banish the fear. She had not sought this love, in fact she had hidden herself from the very possibility of it all this time. She cried for what she had done, and what she must do. Finally, she returned to the house to await Anna’s awakening, and to seal her own fate.

Anna knew instinctively as she reached out that she was alone.

"Graham?" she called.

"I’m here, Anna," Graham answered from her place by the window. "How do you feel?

Anna rolled over and pushed herself up in bed. She regarded Graham carefully. She had grown too used to the nuances of Graham’s posture and tone of voice not to know when she was distressed.

"I’m stiff, and sore just about everywhere, but nothing feels serious," she replied cautiously.

"Good," Graham sighed. She gathered herself for the hardest words she would ever say. "Anna, I must talk to you about last night."

Anna closed her eyes, her stomach tightening. Last night she didn’t need to think—all she knew was the joy of Graham’s presence. She didn’t need to think now to know she had been more deeply moved by Graham’s touch than any other event in her life. She didn’t need words to capture the ecstasy of loving this woman. Her skin still tingled from the stroke of Graham’s hands, her body stirred with desire at the sight of her. She loved her, more passionately than she would have believed possible. Graham Yardley had claimed her, willingly or not—heart, body and soul.

"You don’t need to say anything, Graham," Anna replied. "Last night, with you, was more beautiful than anything I’ve ever experienced. No one has ever touched me -"

Graham interrupted her harshly. She could not bear to hear these words! "Anna, you were hurt, vulnerable—you needed comforting! I—I was frightened—I forgot myself. It wasn’t meant. I’m sorry."

"What are you saying? Are you trying to tell me last night was some kind of mistake?!" Anna asked incredulously. She stared at Graham uncomprehendingly. "You can’t mean that! For God’s sake, Graham-"

"We were both frightened, exhausted - I took advantage," Graham stated flatly.

"Graham! I asked you into my bed—I’ve been wanting, needing you, for so long! God Graham! I love you," Anna cried vehemently.

Graham groaned. "Anna—Anna, you must not!" She drew a deep breath, her face set. "Last night should never have happened. I have no desire for it to be repeated. I do not want that kind of relationship with you."

"And you expect me to simply forget it? What we shared- the way it felt to touch you?" Anna questioned grimly, her hurt and bewilderment giving way to anger. "And what am I supposed to do with my feelings for you, Graham? Am I to ignore them the way you seem to be able to? "

Graham gave no sign that Anna’s words affected her at all. "There can be no question of anything other than a friendship between us. If I’ve misled you, I apologize."

Anna wanted to scream; part of her wanted to beg. How could she be alone in this? She had felt love in Graham’s touch—she had heard it as Graham whispered her name! She stared at Graham, a cold hand gripping her heart. "Are you sure?" she asked at last.

"I’m quite sure." Her face betrayed not a flicker of emotion.

"Then I’ll be leaving Yardley as soon as I can make arrangements," Anna replied hollowly, her mind numb with pain.

Graham clenched her hands, steeling herself against the crushing desolation. "Of course, if you think you must."

Anna watched her cross to the door, knowing this might be the last time she saw her. As Graham’s hand touched the knob, Anna said coldly, "Damn you for a coward, Graham Yardley! How can you do this!"

Graham faltered for a second before wordlessly closing the door gently behind her.

**********

"At least tell me what’s she’s done!" Helen cried frantically as she watched Anna pile boxes into the back of her Jeep.

"She hasn’t done anything," Anna replied woodenly. "She’s exactly the same as she’s always been - I was the one who made the mistake."

"Let me talk to her," Helen pleaded. "Just tell me what happened!"

Anna stifled a laugh that verged on tears. She felt dangerously out of control. Poor Helen, this is almost as hard on her as it is on me! The only one who seems unaffected is Graham.

"There’s nothing you can do, Helen," she responded when she could find her voice.

Helen stopped her hurried motions with a hand on her arm, forcing Anna to look at her. "Anna," she said quietly, "it will kill her if you leave."

"No, Helen," Anna said as she gently removed her hand and stepped up into the Jeep. "It will kill me."

She did not look back as she drove away from all she loved.

She woke before the alarm after another restless night. She turned toward the window, seeking a hint of the sun through the glass. Even after all this time she still missed the smell of the ocean. She lay quietly, waiting for the ache in her to lessen. It was there each day when she opened her eyes, arising from some deep wound that would not heal. Pain was her constant companion, a raw burning grief that clouded even the most simple pleasures. She had learned to accept it—as she accepted that there was a place in her soul which would remain forever empty. That she loved Graham still, would always love her, was the truth and the agony she lived with.

After the first desolate weeks alone again in Boston, she tried to reclaim her life. She immersed herself in her studies and had only to complete her thesis to have her degree. She had no social life and desired none. There was no question of re-entering the world she had known during her marriage—a world now foreign to her. Loving Graham had taught her that she could only have loved with such deep passion and paralyzing desire because Graham was a woman. And she knew without doubt that no other woman could ever eclipse Graham in her heart. She had wanted Graham with a ferocity that still stunned her. She need only to recall some fleeting image, and she would be ambushed by desire—her need to touch her, to taste her, to lose herself in her was palpable. Anna welcomed these moments, despite the bitter pain of loss, because it was only their presence that convinced her some part of her still lived. Otherwise, she moved through her days numb and scarcely present. The future stretched before her with no hint of joy.

The alarm sounded, a reminder that each day would come, and that she would somehow survive. As she moved about her small studio apartment gathering her things, she tried to dispel the lingering memories of her past. Woven through the tapestry of loss was a hard bitter thread of anger, anger over the life, and the love, she might have had - things too painful to dwell on now.

She still found it hard to believe the direction her life had taken. She now worked for a landscape design firm, a job that a year ago she would have been overjoyed to have. She did enjoy her work, in fact, it was her salvation, but the pleasure was diminished by the emptiness of the rest of her life. She barely remembered how she had gotten through that initial interview.

Lauren Parker, a nationally renowned landscape architect and one of a very few women to head her own firm, had interviewed her personally. Anna recalled that she had been both direct and personable, questioning Anna thoroughly but in an easy relaxed manner. Apparently she had been impressed by Anna’s graduate work on historic estate renovations, an area she said her firm was interested in exploring. Although it seemed now to Anna that she had floated through the interview in a daze, she must have made a favorable impression. She had been there six months. She grabbed her briefcase and hurried toward the door. She needed this job, but more importantly, she needed to work. It was the only thing which provided brief respite from her memories.

Anna was sketching in the details of an outdoor theatre when someone tapped on the wall of her work cubicle. She looked up to find Lauren leaning against the partition. It wasn’t unusual for Lauren Parker to supervise the work of her staff personally, but she managed to do it in a way that was both non-threatening and non-intrusive. Those who worked for her knew how fortunate they were to have an employer who was talented as well as fair-minded.

Anna smiled a greeting, laying her work aside. "Hi."

"Hi. How’s the prospectus for the Randolph estate?"

Lauren was dressed casually in a navy linen pants suit that accentuated her trim athletic build. She could have been thirty-five, although Anna knew she was at least ten years older. She radiated confidence and vigorous good health. Her blonde hair was stylishly short, and she wore almost no makeup.

"Good, I think. I have some things to run by Don, and then it should be ready for you to look at."

Lauren nodded. "Excellent. We’re ahead of schedule, which should appease those elements on Randolph’s board of directors who thought the project should go to Tom Langdon across town." Despite her firms national reputation, there were always those who mistrusted the ability of a woman to excel in a man’s field. This job was her entree into the realm of historic renovation she had been waiting for.

Lauren hesitated a second, then asked, "How about a working dinner tonight? I’d like to hear what you’ve come up with so far, but I’ve got clients scheduled all afternoon. If you don’t have other plans? I know it’s Friday night."

A shadow flickered across Anna’s face and was quickly gone. "No," she said quietly, "I don’t have any plans. Dinner would be fine. Should I meet you somewhere?"

"Why don’t we just grab a cab from here?" Lauren hadn’t missed the reaction her invitation had provoked. Whatever the memory, it had hurt. She said nothing further, knowing Anna was intensely private.

Anna nodded, "Okay."

Lauren smiled warmly. "Good—I’m looking forward to it."

**********

At six o’clock Lauren stopped in the corridor beside Anna’s desk. "Are you ready to finish up? The cab should be downstairs in about fifteen minutes."

Anna smiled up at her, nodding. "I’m more than ready. I’ll just freshen up and meet you outside."

Lauren held the cab door open while Anna slid in, then instructed the driver, "The Copely Plaza, please," as she settled next to Anna with a sigh. "God, I’ve been looking forward to this all day."

"I might be a little under-dressed for the Copely," Anna said, indicating her casual slacks and sweater.

Lauren turned her head to look at Anna. "Nonsense. You look terrific," she said softly. The woman beside her had lost the deep tan that had accentuated her blue eyes and blond hair so strikingly six months before, but she had also lost the haunted look that seemed to shadow her every moment. She smiled occasionally now, a blazing smile that never failed to capture Lauren’s attention for just long enough to be distracting. Pleasantly distracting.

Anna blushed under Lauren’s warm, appraising glance. It was nothing like the way men had looked at her, still did in fact. She didn’t feel as if she were being assessed like a painting about to be purchased, or a fine wine about to be consumed. Lauren’s glance was appreciative, and intimate in a respectful way. It was the first time Anna had ever been aware of a woman looking at her in quite that manner. Would Graham have, if she could have seen her? Without warning she remembered the way Graham had stroked her face after they made love, ‘seeing’ her in the only way she could. Anna recognized the sensuality of Lauren’s gaze because she had felt it, magnified a thousand times, in Graham’s hands on her skin. The image was so painful she closed her eyes with a small gasp.

"What is it?" Lauren asked in concern.

"Just a headache," Anna said with a shaky laugh. "I think I forgot lunch and it’s catching up with me."

"Well, dinner is on the company," Lauren said, almost as if she didn’t own it. "Let’s enjoy it!" She doubted the headache story; she had seen the same thing happen to Anna before. Some word or gesture would inexplicably cause her to pale, visibly shaken. Something had hurt her badly, and Lauren guessed that Anna kept the anguish at bay through sheer strength of will. Anna’s struggle touched some deep cord in Lauren, as she watched the younger woman slowly rise above her pain over the past months. "Come on," she said, touching Anna’s hand briefly. "Let me buy you a drink."

Anna forced herself to relax, wanting to forget everything for just a little while. She decided to try to enjoy herself, and before she knew it, she was seated with Lauren at a cozy table sipping a very fine wine.

At Lauren’s suggestion, they got business out of the way while they waited for appetizers, so that by the time their meal came, their conversation was casual. Anna found Lauren an easy companion. Her interests beyond the professional were varied, and she had a way of bringing images to life with her enthusiasm. She was bright, gracious and altogether charming. For the first time in months Anna found she could actually distance herself from the despair that seemed to be the undercurrent of her life. She was grateful for the brief surcease of pain.

"Anna," Lauren said as she reached to fill Anna’s wine glass, "you have been doing excellent work at the firm, and I consider us lucky to have you. I hope you plan to stay on with us for the long-term. There will be plenty of opportunity for advancement."

Anna stared at her in surprise. She hadn’t expected Lauren to notice her work, let alone comment so favorably upon it. She was pleased and said so.

Lauren nodded, her face uncharacteristically subdued. She fidgeted briefly with her straw, then tossed it onto the table with a sigh. "There’s never an easy way to do this, at least none that I’ve ever found," she said at length. "But I want you to understand that this has absolutely nothing to do with work, and never will. No matter what you say to me, your position at the firm is based upon your production, and your skill - nothing else."

Anna looked at her quizzically. "I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about," she said.

Lauren blushed and laughed lightly. "How could you? I’m not saying anything!" She leaned forward slightly, her intense grey eyes fixed on Anna’s. "Anna—I think you are a very attractive woman, and I like you. I would very much like to spend more time with you—socially. Well, romantically actually."

Anna stared at her, at a loss for words. Lauren was highly attractive in many ways - bright, accomplished, physically compelling, and Anna was more comfortable with her than she had been in months. Part of her wanted this woman to make her forget Graham Yardley.

Lauren waited in silence, then asked softly, "Have I misread you? If I have, I apologize."

Anna cleared her throat, then responded, "No, you haven’t—I mean, I am a lesbian."

Lauren added in concern, "I have never asked an employee out before. I meant it, Anna—don’t think for a second that this has any bearing on your position at the firm. Please!"

Anna searched for her voice. "I don’t—it doesn’t feel that way, and neither do you."

She looked at the woman across from her, imagining her touch, her kiss. She had grown to admire and respect Lauren, and after tonight she knew she liked her. She wondered if she could let Lauren make love to her body, if the physical sensation might even be welcome, if it somehow might dull her memory of Graham even briefly. She longed for some relief from the endless torment, but she knew without a shred of doubt she could never give Lauren her heart. That was no longer hers to own, or to give. She was Graham’s, in every fiber of her being, and always would be. She looked at Lauren helplessly, " It’s not that -it’s just-, I can’t, Lauren, I’m sorry—"

Lauren thought she detected tears in her eyes. "Hey," she said softly, "it’s okay. I didn’t mean to upset you."

Anna shook her head, brushing impatiently at the moisture on her cheeks. "You haven’t—this has been the best night I’ve spent in months. And if things were different—"

Lauren hurried to state, "I don’t want to get in the middle of anything if you’re already involved with someone. I’ve never heard you mention anyone."

"No," Anna answered, the pain in her voice impossible to hide. "I’m not involved with anyone."

"But?" Lauren questioned gently.

Anna’s gaze was wounded. "But there is someone I love, very much—someone who apparently doesn’t love me. But that doesn’t stop the wanting—does it?"

Lauren looked at her sympathetically. "No, it doesn’t. Perhaps time will help. I’ve enjoyed our evening together. And I’d like to do it again sometime. I appreciate your honesty, Anna, and if the time comes that you might feel differently about seeing me, I’ll consider myself lucky. ‘Til then—friends?"

Anna smiled tremulously. "I could use a friend. Thank you, Lauren."

As time passed Lauren proved true to her word. On the average of once a week, she invited Anna to the theatre or out for dinner. The only place Anna refused to accompany her was to the symphony. Anna hadn’t been able to listen to any kind of music that reminded her of Graham, and the thought of a concert hall brought twisting pain to her depths. In her mind, the concert stage would always belong to Graham; her memory held so many images of her there. Seeing Anna’s response the first time she asked her, Lauren never asked her again.

Anna enjoyed their time together, coming to value their relationship immensely. She would not speak of her past, and Lauren did not press her. When they parted, Lauren kissed her lightly on the cheek. It didn’t escape Anna’s notice that occasionally Lauren would look at her with a question in her eyes, but Anna never felt pressured to move their relationship onto a more intimate level. Anna hoped that their friendship was as rewarding to Lauren as it had come to be to her.

Early one morning the phone on her desk rang. It was Lauren.

"Can I see you in my office for a minute?"

"I’ll be right there," Anna replied, rolling up the plan she had been working on.

When Anna entered, Lauren motioned for Anna to join her at the large drafting table situated before the enormous windows overlooking the Boston Commons. She indicated a layout pinned to the board. She was clearly excited.

"The Randolph renovations have progressed exceptionally well. The article featuring our work in the Times last weekend has really fostered interest in estate reclamation. This area is ripe for it. I think it’s time to push the promotional we discussed when you first interviewed. I’d like to use your work at Yardley as the centerpiece. It’s one of the oldest estates on the Cape and will be easily recognized by prospective clients. Since Yardley is so well known to you, and the concept of marketing estate landscape restoration is really yours as well, I’d like you to oversee the project. We’ll need detailed plans, as well as photodocumentation. I want you to put your other projects on hold until this is off the ground."

Anna stood stunned and speechless, while Lauren looked at her expectantly. Of course she should be honored that Lauren would entrust such an important project to her direction, and it was what she had been training to do—but, oh god, not at Yardley! Her composure threatened to give way under a wave of panic.

"I can’t," she finally whispered.

Lauren stared at her in astonishment. "What do you mean, ‘you can’t?’ Is it because of your thesis? I thought you had that nearly wrapped up."

"No," Anna forced herself to say calmly. "I’ll work on the promotional—anything else you want. Anything. But I can’t do the work on Yardley."

"But Anna, I want Yardley as the main work. That’s where I need you!"

Anna passed a trembling hand across her face, trying to gather her wits. Just the mention of Yardley had brought a flood of memories, and such pain she thought she might be ill. God, what would she do if she actually had to see Graham? It was impossible! She couldn’t do it!

"Anna, we’re friends. Tell me what this is all about." Lauren laid her hand gently on Anna’s arm, her concern genuine. Anna was trembling.

Anna turned to face her, an agony of despair clearly visible. Lauren had never seen such desolation, and her heart surged with compassion.

"Tell me, sweetheart."

"I can’t go back to Yardley," Anna said at last, her voice shaking.

"Why not?"

"Graham—" Anna began, barely able to say her name. "I can’t see her. I can’t." She looked at Lauren pleadingly. "Please don’t ask me to, Lauren. It would kill me."

Lauren studied her for long moments, the pieces slowly falling into place. She knew that Anna had lived at Yardley but had never given it any thought. Now Anna’s isolation and depression were more understandable.

"Graham Yardley - the composer," Lauren said softly. "She’s the woman you’re in love with, isn’t she?"

Anna closed her eyes, trying to stem the tears, failing. "Yes," she choked out, turning from her friend, struggling for control. She felt a tender hand on her shoulder, heard a soft voice murmur her name, and she turned into the arms that waited for her. Lauren held her gently, letting her cry, not trying to tell her it as all right when it so obviously wasn’t. At length Anna drew away, fumbling for a tissue, embarrassed.

"I’m sorry," she said. "I didn’t expect this - if I don’t think about her, I seem to be able to manage. You took me by surprise."

Lauren let out a long breath. "Anna, you’ve always been honest with me and I care about you. I don’t want to see you suffer like this any longer, and I’ll admit not all of my reasons are selfless ones. I won’t pretend that I don’t want more from our relationship, but this isn’t about that. This is destroying you. You need to give her up—you have the rest of your life, don’t allow it to be an empty one. Maybe if you work on the project, it will help you heal."

Anna laughed almost hysterically. "Heal? You can’t heal what’s already dead, and that’s what I am inside, Lauren. Dead. All I’m trying to do now is make it from day to day. If I have to see Graham, I won’t even be able to do that! She’s not something I can just ‘give up’! She’s in every part of me. You can’t imagine what being near her is like for me!"

Lauren winced at the truth of Anna’s words. It wasn’t easy to be faced with the extent of Anna’s passion for another woman, but nevertheless her tone was kind as she offered, "You won’t have to see her. She isn’t there."

Anna grasped the edge of the table, her head suddenly light. "Oh, dear god, has something happened to her? Is she all right?"

"As far as I know, she is. David Norcross told me that no one had been in residence at Yardley since last fall, but that he would provide us with keys if we needed access." Seeing the look of panic on Anna’s face, she added gently, "That’s really all I know."

Anna forced down the surge of panic. "I can’t make a decision about this now, Lauren. Give me a little time—just a few day, please."

Lauren nodded, reluctantly accepting that Anna’s heart still belonged completely to Graham Yardley. Despite her own disappointment, as a friend, she would have to let Anna find her own way.

"I’ll need your answer by the end of next week ," she conceded.

**********

That night Anna dreamed of Yardley, and of Graham. A storm was coming, like the storm that brought down the sycamore. She was in the garden, the sky darkening around her. Turning to the sea, she saw Graham standing at the edge of the cliff, struggling to stay upright in the gale. She seemed even thinner in the distant gloom, wraithlike, and in danger of being swept from the earth by the force of the snarling winds. Anna’s cries to her were flung back in her face by the howling blasts. She must reach her!!

"Graham, I’m coming," she screamed soundlessly, "I’m coming, my darling!!" She fought to move, choking with panic, able only to watch in horror as Graham was flung by the whirlwind into the raging waters.

"No!" she wailed into the night, finally dragging herself to consciousness. She lay gasping, soaked in sweat, her face streaked with tears. The aftermath of her dream left her awash with loss. "Oh God Graham," she whispered into the darkness, "I love you so much."

**********

Anna drove slowly up the drive to Yardley Manor, her heart pounding. Yardley appeared abandoned, dark and foreboding. The shutters were all closed, and windswept debris littered the walks and the wide front porch. She parked her Jeep behind the house by the kitchen and walked down the steep garden path toward the sea. She stopped at the site of the fallen sycamore, thinking of how that accident had finally brought Graham into her arms. Oh, god, she thought she had found heaven. How could she have been so wrong!

She stood for many minutes looking out to the sea, images flashing through her mind like slides on a screen. She recalled how Graham had looked that first day in the library, pale and stern, and so stubborn and proud! She had been drawn to her even then. She remembered the slow building of her love as she had come to know more of the gentle, tortured soul Graham kept hidden within. What finally started tears flowing was the memory of Graham’s music—its haunting beauty and the even more beautiful image of Graham playing. As the music cascaded through her mind, so too did the remembrance of their lovemaking. She ached for Graham’s touch, and to touch her in return.

Watching the waves crash below, ominous in their fury, she was reminded of the desolation she had felt in her dream. She couldn’t continue to live like this. Anna felt a strange steeling of her heart, and a new determination. Replacing the pain that accompanied each breath was a rising anger, and the resolution to put an end to this torment. As she turned and began the long climb back, Anna became aware of another sensations in her heart. She finally recognized that it was hope.

Continue on to Part 6

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