Noah, too, was sifting through his thoughts. To him, the evening would beremembered as one of the most special times he had ever had. As he rocked, he

remembered it all in detail, then remembered it again. Everything she had doneseemed somehow electric to him, charged.

Now, sitting beside her, he wondered if she'd ever dreamed the same things he hadin the years they'd been apart. Had she ever dreamed of them holding each otheragain and kissing in soft moonlight? Or did she go further and dream of their nakedbodies, which had been kept separate for far too long ....

He looked to the stars and remembered the thousands of empty nights he had spentsince they'd last seen each other. Seeing her again brought all those feelings to thesurface, and he found it impossible to press them back down. He knew then hewanted to make love to her again and to have her love in return. It was what heneeded most in the world.

But he also realized it could never be. Now that she was engaged.

Allie knew by his silence that he was thinking about her and found that she reveledin it. She didn't know what his thoughts were exactly, didn't care really, just knewthey were about her and that was enough.

She thought about their conversation at dinner and wondered about loneliness. Forsome reason she couldn't picture him reading poetry to someone else or even sharinghis dreams with another woman. He didn't seem the type. Either that, or she didn'twant to believe it.

She put down the tea, then ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes as shedid so.

"Are you tired?" he asked, finally breaking free from his thoughts.

"A little. I should really be going in a couple of minutes."

"I know," he said, nodding, his tone neutral. She didn't get up right away. Instead shepicked up the cup and drank the last swallow of tea, feeling it warm her throat. Shetook the evening in. Moon higher now, wind in the trees, temperature dropping.

She looked at Noah next. The scar on his face was visible from the side. She wonderedif it had happened during the war, then wondered if he'd ever been wounded at all.

He hadn't mentioned it and she hadn't asked, mostly because she didn't want toimagine him being hurt.

"I should go," she finally said, handing the quilt back to him.

Noah nodded, then stood without a word. He carried the quilt, and the two of themwalked to her car while fallen leaves crunched beneath their feet. She started totake off the shirt he'd loaned her as he opened the door, but he stopped her. "Keepit," he said. "I want you to have it." She didn't ask why, because she wanted to keep

it, too. She readjusted it and crossed her arms afterward to ward off the chill. Forsome reason, as she stood there she was reminded of standing on her front porchafter a high school dance, waiting for a kiss.

"I had a great time tonight," he said. "Thank you for finding me."

"I did, too," she answered.

He summoned his courage. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

A simple question. She knew what the answer should be, especially if she wanted tokeep her life simple. "I don't think we should," was all she had to say, and it wouldend right here and now. But for a second she didn't say anything.

The demon of choice confronted her then, teased her, challenged her. Why couldn'tshe say it? She didn't know. But as she looked in his eyes to find the answer sheneeded, she saw the man she'd once fallen in love with, and suddenly it all came clear.

"I'd like that."

Noah was surprised. He hadn't expected her to answer this way. He wanted to touchher then, to take her in his arms, but he didn't. "Can you be here about noon?"

"Sure. What do you want to do?"

"You'll see," he answered. "I know just the place to go."

"Have I ever been there before?" "No, but it's a special place." "Where is it?" "It'sa surprise." "Will I like it?" "You'll love it," he said.

She turned away before he could attempt a kiss. She didn't know if he would try butknew for some reason that if he did, she would have a hard time stopping him. Shecouldn't handle that right now, with everything going through her head. She slidbehind the wheel, breathing a sigh of relief. He shut the door for her, and she startedthe engine. As the car idled, she rolled down the window just a bit.

"See you tomorrow," she said, her eyes reflecting the moonlight.

Noah waved as she backed the car out. She turned it around, then drove up the lane,heading toward town. He watched the car until the lights vanished behind faroff oaktrees and the engine noise was gone.

Clem wandered up to him and he squatted down to pet her, paying special attentionto her neck, scratching the spot she couldn't reach anymore. After he looked up theroad one last time, they returned to the back porch side by side. He sat in the rockeragain, this time alone, trying once again to fathom the evening that had just passed.

Thinking about it. Replaying it. Seeing it again. Hearing it again. Running it by in slowmotion. He didn't feel like playing his guitar now, didn't feel like reading. Didn't knowwhat he felt.

"She's engaged," he finally whispered, and then was silent for hours, his rockermaking the only noise. The night was quiet now, with little activity except for Clem,who visited him occasionally, checking on him as if to ask "Are you all right?"

And sometime after midnight on that clear October evening, it all rushed inward andNoah was overcome with longing. And if anyone had seen him, they would have seenwhat looked like an old man, someone who'd aged a lifetime in just a couple of hours.

Someone bent over in his rocker with his face in his hands and tears in his eyes. Hedidn't know how to stop them.

One alls*

Lon hung up the phone. He had called at seven, then at eight‐thirty, and now hechecked his watch again. Nine forty‐five. Where was she?

He knew she was where she had said she would be because he had spoken to themanager earlier. Yes, she had checked in and he had last seen her around six. Goingto dinner, he thought. No, he hadn't seen her since.

Lon shook his head and leaned back in his chair. He was the last one in the office, asusual, and everything was quiet. But that was normal with an ongoing trial, even ifthe trial was going well. Law was his passion, and the late hours alone gave himthe opportunity to catch up on his work without interruption.

He knew he would win the case because he mastered the law and charmed the jury.

He always did, and losses were infrequent now. Part of it came from being able toselect the cases he had the expertise to win. He had reached that level in his practice.

Only a select few in the city had that kind of stature, and his earnings reflected that.

But the more important part of his success came from hard work. He had always paidattention to details, especially when he'd begun his practice. Little things, obscure

things, and it had become a habit now. Whether it was a matter of law orpresentation, he was diligent in his study, and it had won him a few cases early in hiscareer when he should have lost.

And now, a little detail bothered him. Not about the case. No, that was fine. It wassomething else. Something about Allie. But damn, he couldn't put his finger on it. Hewas fine when she'd left this morning. At least he thought he was. But sometime afterher call, maybe an hour or so, something clicked in his mind. The little detail. Detail.

Something insignificant? Something important? Think... think... Damn, what was it?

His mind clicked. Something... something.., something said? Something had beensaid? Yes, that was it.

He knew it. But what was it? Had Allie said anything on the phone? That had beenwhen it started, and he ran through the conversation again. No, nothing out of theordinary.

But that was it, he was sure now. What had she said? Her trip was good, she hadchecked in, had done some shopping. Left her number. That's about all.

He thought about her then. He loved her, he was sure of that. Not only was shebeautiful and charming, but she'd become his source of stability and best friend aswell. After a hard day at work, she was the first person he would call. She would listento him, laugh at the right moments, and had a sixth sense about what he needed tohear.

But more than that, he admired the way she'd always spoken her mind. Heremembered that after they'd gone out a few times, he'd said to her what he said toall women he dated‐‐that he wasn't ready for a steady relationship. Unlike the others,though, Allie had simply nodded and said, "Fine." But on her way out the door, she'dturned and said: "But your problem isn't me, or your job, or your freedom, orwhatever else you think it is. Your problem is that you're alone. Your father made theHammond name famous, and you've probably been compared to him all your life.