She decided to work on the coffee table. By the time she covered the old table with newspaper and spread the dilapilated ornaments out on the floor, Zack had returned with several buckets of paint and a few small worn brushes.

Without a word, she went to work doing what she loved most in the world. Painting. He straightened out the lights and got a few strings to work while he watched her. When hr finally had the tree in place and the lights evenly circled around, her first few ornaments were dry enough to hang.

He sat on the floor across from her as she worked. "They're beautiful. I've never seen anything like them."

Anna smiled. "Thank you." If she had her brushes, she could paint intricate designs on each ball, but with one-inch brushes that had seen better days, she made bold strokes with circles, starbursts and wavy lines.

The tree became magic, one ornament at a time. He did not talk as she worked, but each time he stood to add a ball, he stepped back and admired the tree. When she painted the last ornament, he carried it to the tree as she stood and stretched.

"You're an artist, Anna. A real one, like I've never seen before."

"I enjoy it."

She did not move as he slid his arms around her worked the tired muscles of her back. They had been together for hours and he had not touched her. He was embracing her now, only making her more comfortable.

"Tired?" As he relaxed her back, he swayed slightly almost as if they were dancing.

"Hungry," she answered honestly.

"Well, the least I can do is feed you after you saved the tree. I think I've still got some of them funny crackers and tea."

She frowned.

"Baloney sandwiches?" He laughed when she made a face. "No wait. After all that work, you need a real treat. How about a baloney bowl with cowboy beans and onions in it?"

Anna raised her eyebrows. Ten minutes later she stared.u a thick slice of baloney that had bowed to the shape of a bowl when fried. It was then filled with grilled onions and canned beans. Anna was not sure she could eat it.

But Zack acted like he was serving a delicacy. "My mom used to make this for me when I was a kid." He put a slip of flat yellow bread on her plate. "Corn bread," he added when she stared up at him with an eyebrow raised. "It tastes really good crumbled on top of the beans."

She seriously doubted anything could improve the taste of a baloney bowl filled with beans.

They ate at the coffee table while sitting cross-legged on the floor. She was surprised at how good the odd food tasted.

When he finished, Zack leaned back against the couch and stretched his long legs out beside her. "You're a great artist, Anna. I'm not just saying it to be nice. You should have your work in one of those high-priced studios in Dallas. Or maybe down on Sundance Square in Fort Worth. They've Remingtons and Russells side by side in a gallery down there.It doesn't get much better than that."

"And you, Mr. Larson, are a terrible cook."

He did not seem to mind her honesty. "I know, but at least it was edible." He glanced at her empty plate.

"I was starving."

"So am L" His voice lowered, his frankness frightening. Without another word, he leaned across the little table and kissed her.

Anna pulled away and stood. It had come time to deal with what had happened between them the last time he had walked her to the stile. She spoke slowly, trying to make the words come out without stuttering, but knowing it was hopeless "A-about the o-other night."

She felt the warmth of his body behind her, but he did nit touch her.

"What about it?" He didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about.

"I-I am not sure I am ready." She fought for words. "I'm not sure I will ever be ready."

Zack folded her into his arms. "It's all right." He felt her tremble but she did not step away. "Take your time, Anna. I'm not going anywhere. Only, do me a favor. Don't go kissing me like that unless you want me to follow you home. You'll never know how hard it was to stay on my side of the fence the other night."

Her body relaxed against his. He was not going to push her into anything. "A fair request."

"Now that's settled." His hand slid down her arm to her hand. "Let's see what the tree looks like from the porch swing."

He did not try to kiss her again or touch her in any way that was improper, but somehow their nearness had changed.

Wrapped in blankets, they sat on the swing drinking their coffee and tea but now, his every touch was somehow different. He was making love to her with each slight move and she knew it. The moon brightened the cold night. till saw his face clearly. He looked deep in thought.

"Tell me why you read travel books." She wanted to hear him talk. He was unlike any man she had ever known. Being with her seemed his only goal. He treated each hour as a gift.

"I don't know. I've collected them since I was a kid I love it here, but I'd like to see other places someday." He talked about all the countries he'd like to visit, all the beaches he wished he could walk on, all the roads he wonld wander down if he had the time.

Anna listened, not telling him that she had seen many of the things he described. The gentle sway of the swing kept time with his voice, making her almost believe the world was a wondrous place.

She had never known the pleasure of seduction. Davis kissed her twice before he proposed. Then he had seen little of her before the wedding. After they were married, he saw no need for courting.

She could not help but wonder if Zack had any idea how his slight touch affected her, now. The way he ran his hand up and down her back, playing along the imprint of her spine. How he brushed her leg as he rocked the swing. Or how his breath warmed her cheek.

Anna leaned against his shoulder and watched the light, of the Christmas tree twinkle through the window. "It is beautiful."

"That it is." He kissed her forehead. "Thanks for helping me."

"You are welcome."

"Want to stay the night with me right here? We could leave the tree lights on all night."

"Yes," she answered honestly, "but I have to be up early tomorrow. I am going shopping with the other widows."

He did not need more explanation. She had talked of Helean, Meredith and Crystal before.

They rocked for several minutes before she added, "I may not get to come back for a while."

His muscles tightened slightly as if he were forcing himpolf not to say a word about when she might return. She knew she was hurting him and he was trying not to let it show.

He did not ask her to explain. No questions. No strings. He had promised.

Cupping his chin with her hand, she whispered, "It is after midnight. Walk me to the stile."

He stood and helped her up, they retrieved their coats and hats from inside. They strolled, hand in hand to the walkover, slowing as they neared.

She did not want the night to end but reality had to win out this time. And she knew even after she left him, she would still have her memories. Sometimes she thought their few hours together were the only cherished memories she had. The only time she had been allowed to just be herself were the times she had crossed the fence and stepped onto his land. He asked nothing. He might never know how much he gave in return.

Anna took the first step and faced him.

"Come back when you can," he said with his head too low for her to see his eyes. "I'll be waiting."

"How long?" she whispered. "H-how long will you wait?"

He looked up, straight into her eyes. "Forever, Anna. I'll wait forever."

She leaned against him and kissed his lips. She was not sure what she had ever done to deserve finding him, but suddenly she knew she could not let go. When she crossed the fence she was not going back to life. Life existed here with him; the rest was the dream. Zack was her reality.

This time he was ready for her advance, he did not hesitate. His arms closed around her, pulling her to him as he returned her kiss completely. His hands moved inside her coat and beneath her blouse, hungry for the feel of her skin. His kiss was eager, awkward in haste.

Anna pulled away suddenly and tumbled over the stile almost falling. She ran several feet before she turned around knowing he would be there, watching.

"Well," she laughed. "Are you coming? You said you would come home with me if I kissed you like that again. I never thought you were a liar."

He jumped over the steps as she ran toward her house. She made it to the patio before he caught her.

For a moment he just held her, breathing against her hair. Then, he gently pushed her against the wall and pressed his body along the length of hers. "I'm not a liar," he whispered.

His kiss was wild and hungry, as if it were essential to living. She answered his need, starving for the nearness of him.

He had half her clothes off by the time they stumbled into her house. Neither of them noticed a lamp tumble as he drew her toward one of the overstuffed couches.

"Wait!" Anna pushed him away, laughing and kissing him even as she tried to untangle from his arms. "I will be right back."

He took a long breath and let her go without asking her reason.

When she returned, he had turned her stereo to a country station and unbuttoned his shirt. The lean curve of his chest and stomach drew her artist's hands as if she could memorize each line and reproduce it one day in clay.

"Are you sure?" He kept his hands at his sides as she brushed her fingers across his chest. "I could leave if you want to stop. If you're not sure. Anna, I want you so bad and that isn't going to change, but I don't want to hurry you."

She spread the blanket she had gone after across the couch. "I am sure." Her voice trembled.

She sat on the blanket not knowing how they would get back to the wildness of a few minutes before. She needed to feel alive, but knew there was far more to them than that.. She needed him.

He knelt in front of her. "I'll never hurt you, I swear."

His callused hands moved over her body, pushing the silk blouse off her shoulders. "You're so beautiful. You deserve u lot more than the likes of me."

She leaned forward and kissed him, pulling him gently hack with her to the quilt her grandmother had made. The only words that came to her mind were in her native tongue. She had to make him understand with her actions.

And she did.

December 18

Dawn

Montano Ranch


An icy sunrise sparkled against the windows, reflecting the shafts of dawn light. Zack jerked, reacting to the front door rattling a moment before Anna could pull fully awake. He moved while she was still trying to figure out where shc was. A warm blanket covered her and the warmth of Zack's nude body molded against her side still warmed her. He was not in her dreams; he definitely was in her house.

He turned his head into her wild hair. "Anna! Anna you are in my arms. I thought I might be dreaming."

The memories of the night washed over her groggy brain. They had made love like two awkward fools the first time She accidentally shoved her elbow into his eye, he pulled her hair, they bumped noses. They laughed and apologized and made up.

The second time, they got it right. And the third had been heaven. She knew it then, deep inside, all the way to her soul. They were meant for one another. They would be together until they were both too old to remember what they had done this night.

The door to the kitchen rattled, then opened.

Zack jumped off the couch, waking Anna fully in his haste. He had his pants pulled on by the time Carlo reached the great room.

"I made it back early. The horses were not…"Carlo stopped as he looked into the great room.

For a moment Anna's brother stood there as if he had turned to stone. Snow sparkled in his hair and two days of utubble covered his face.

Slowly, his entire body swelled in rage.

Zack stepped in front of Anna as she frantically searched for her blouse. "Now hold on, Carlo."

Anna watched anger building in Carlo like steam in a boiler. Zack looked worried, but not frightened.

"We can talk about this," Zack tried again.

Carlo did not look like he planned to reason.

"I don't blame you for being upset." Zack pulled his shirt across his shoulders. "But she's a grown woman who knows her own mind. It's time you let go of some of that brotherly guard."

Anna agreed but could not get her voice past the fear blocking her breathing. She stared at Carlo.

Suddenly, Carlo came at Zack like a wild bull in full charge.