"No, I'm not."

She hugged her arms across her chest. "You must be to be treating me so coldly."

"I just don't want to feel close to you again. I'd like to barely notice that you've left on Monday. I've reached my limit on suffering. I'd like to be able to wake up Tuesday morning and say to myself, 'Eden's gone. Big deal.'"

She winced, and he looked away from her.

"That wasn't too nice," he said. "I'm sorry. I guess I am still angry. I want to hurt you. I want to hurt everybody, but I shouldn't have said that."

"I still love you, Ben."

He laughed. "You know what? I don't think I believe you. I don't trust you. You said you were in love with me, and then you spent one lousy hour with Michael Carey and suddenly you're treating me like I'm Jack the Ripper. Next thing I know, people on the street are calling me scum, and I read in the paper that I mean nothing to you. I was a mistake, a lapse in judgment. I was convenient, wasn't I? Good enough for you in private, but God forbid anyone might see you with me." He walked over to the door and pulled it open. "How does it feel not to be trusted?"

She swallowed hard. She walked to the door and turned to face him. "I wish only the best for you, Ben." She walked across the clearing, got into her car, and pulled it out on the road before she let herself cry.

Ben left his cabin shortly after Eden. It was nearly nine and he was hungry-he'd had nothing to eat since lunch. He drove the few miles to Sugar Hill, wishing the last half hour had not happened. That battered look on Eden's face when she left his cabin was going to haunt him all night. He'd hurt her all right. She shouldn't have come over. It would have been better if she'd left the Valley without any words passing between them at all.

Sugar Hill was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night and he had no trouble finding a table. Ruth walked toward him carrying the unnecessary menu and he braced himself for her snarly greeting, but she surprised him.

"May I sit down for a minute?" she asked.

He looked up, stunned. "Yes."

She sat across from him, licked at her orange lips. "I owe you one hell of an apology," she said.

"What for?"

"For thinking all those months that you'd hurt your little girl. We all thought that, and we treated you like we thought you deserved to be treated. Now that we know different, we feel right small, I can tell you."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "How do you know I didn't do it?"

"That article in the paper."

"What article?"

"You haven't seen it? Well, I don't suppose you would of. It's tomorrow's paper, the Sunday, but. my boy gets a big hunk of it in the city on Saturday and brings it up here when he comes for the weekend."

He frowned, trying to follow her. "There's an article about me in tomorrow's paper?"

"Wait a minute." She got up and returned in a minute with the Style section of Sunday's Post. "Here it is." She opened the paper to page three and set it in front of him. "You want your regular, hon?"

Hon? "Yes, please."

There was that picture of him and Eden taken in the Village, and several quotes from Eden that not only exonerated him but indicted herself for her denunciation of him. "I made a mistake," she said in closing. "I was frightened for my daughter and my career and I protected myself the only way I knew how at the time. As a result, I hurt someone I love very much."

The words blurred on the paper in front of him. He stood up and found Ruth. "I need to leave, Ruth." He set his hand on her shoulder, a shoulder he wouldn't have dared touch an hour ago. "Is it too late to cancel my order?"

"No problem, hon. Come back tomorrow night. It'll be on the house."

She read Cassie a story, the words pouring mechanically from her lips. She kissed her good night, closed the door, and walked across the hall to her own room, where she changed from her jeans and T-shirt to her white satin nightgown and climbed beneath the covers. It was early, but she was exhausted from her work in the cave and from the confrontation with Ben. Her shoulders ached from stooping in the tunnel, the muscles in her thighs burned.

She lay still for a few minutes, staring at the black ceiling. Finally she switched on the lamp on her night table and pulled her purse from the floor to the bed. She would read the journal Kyle had given her. The last one.

She reached into her purse, but her hand froze as she heard the slamming of a car door in the driveway. She held still, listening to the knock at the kitchen door, to the quiet murmur of Kyle's voice, to the footsteps on the stairs. Ben.

She set her purse back on the floor and folded her hands in her lap.

He knocked softly on the door. "Eden?"

"Come in," she said.

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him. He sat down on her bed and pried one of her hands loose from the other so he could hold it on his knee.

"I was a jerk earlier," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right."

"Ruth had a copy of tomorrow's paper. Your retraction is in it."

"Good." She was relieved he had seen it. She might leave Monday a miserable woman, but at least her conscience would be clear.

"You didn't need to be so hard on yourself," he said.

"Yes," she said, "I did."

He looked down at her hand, stroked his thumb across its smooth surface. "Did you mean it earlier when you said you still love me?"

"Yes."

He smiled, a bit wistfully, and squeezed her hand. "I saw Heart of Winter last night. It's playing in Gloverton. I stopped on my way back from Annapolis."

"But you'd already seen it twice."

"I know," he said quietly. "But I had to see you, and that was a safe way to do it. I could watch you without...being tempted by you. Without any danger of making a fool out of myself, or...I was so grateful to you for helping me get out of the mess I was in, but I didn't want to forget what you'd done to me." He shrugged. "It wasn't very satisfying, seeing you up on the screen. It wasn't you up there. You were the woman in the movie, Lily whatever-her-name-was. You were her completely. You're an excellent actress, Eden, but it still irked the hell out of me seeing Michael Carey paw at you, watching you kiss him." Ben shuddered. "I left before the climax, so to speak."

She smiled, raised her hand to touch his cheek.

"I love you too, Eden," he said.

"Then tell me you don't want me to leave on Monday."

"Please don't leave."

She rose to her knees to kiss him, but the pain in her shoulders and legs made her cringe.

"You're sore from the tunnel?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I'd offer to give you a massage but I'm afraid once I touch you I won't be able to stop."

"Touch me, then. Please."

He stood up and hit the lock on her door and returned once again to her bed. "This is beautiful." He stroked the back of his fingers down the white satin between her breasts. "How come I've never seen it before?"

"I never needed it at your cabin. We just went from dressed to undressed."

"Well, I think we'll have to take it off you in order for me to rub your shoulders properly."

She felt suddenly shy at the thought of pulling her nightgown over her head, sitting naked and vulnerable in front of him, but he leaned over to switch off the lamp on the night table and the darkness filled her with longing. He slid the gown up her body and over her head and set it behind him on the bed. "Lie on your stomach," he said.

She lay down willingly, her head resting on her arms, and waited while he took off his shoes. He straddled her and his first warm touch on her shoulders brought tears to her eyes. It had been too long since she'd felt his hands on her, since she'd felt any love from him at all.

"You're tense," he said, gently pressing, kneading. And then his hands stopped, rested flat against her back, and she knew he could feel the spasms as she tried not to cry. She felt his lips on her back. "No," he said. "Please don't cry." He pulled her into his arms and she clung to him.

"I was afraid I'd never get to see you again," she said. "Or talk to you, or hold you. I'm not used to caring that much. I figured I'd be okay once I was back in California where I could pretend everything is all right. I don't feel pain there, but I never really feel happiness either. This summer's been different. I've felt everything. My emotions have been all over the map-up and down, back and forth-but they're my emotions. They belong to me, not to some character I'm playing. Not to some plastic Eden Riley."

He kissed her shoulder. "Lie back again," he said.

She lay on her back as he set his hands on her thighs. "Show me where it hurts," he said.

She guided his hands to the line of fire in her thighs. He ran his thumbs along the bruised muscles and she gripped the sheet in her fists and tensed against the pain.

"Try to relax," he said.

He was good at this. She let go of the sheet and closed her eyes, and gradually her muscles loosened beneath his hands.

She knew he was through with the business end of this massage when his thumbs slipped from her burning muscles to the inside of her thighs. And she knew she was through with the pain when her legs parted of their own accord.

She remembered suddenly where she was, with her daughter next door and Kyle and Lou downstairs.

"We have to be quiet," she whispered, but what she was thinking was that she was safe. Safe and happy, surrounded by the people she loved.

"Please come back to the cabin with me tonight," he said one long amazing hour later, when the room was still and her heartbeat had slipped back to normal.

"All right. Only I'd like to be back early in the morning, before Cassie wakes up."

But Lou and Kyle told them not to worry about Cassie. "We'll take her in our bed with us in the morning," Lou said. "Go on now. She'll be fine."

Although it was that hour in her bed that Eden would remember best, she knew it was the rest of the night spent in Ben's cabin-the hours of talk and reconnection-that bound them together, that set their future course.

He told her about his few days in Annapolis, the nearly unbearable roller coaster of emotions, the mix of wild anger toward Sam and pure love for his daughter.

"Are you still in love with Sharon?" she asked. They were in his bed, under a blanket to keep off the chill of the air conditioner.

"No. I could never recapture the feelings I had for her and I have no interest in trying. I feel terrible for her, though. She's really been through hell."

"Did you see Sam?"

"Oh, yeah." Ben's body stiffened next to her. "My incredible brother. The one person in the world I thought I could always count on. Parents die, friends come and go, spouses might come and go. But your brother. Sam was someone I thought I couldn't lose."

He told her about his meeting with Sam, the satisfaction he took in hitting him. She had difficulty picturing Ben hurting anyone, although wasn't that what he had done to her earlier that evening when she'd stopped by his cabin? He hadn't used his fists then, but she had felt the force of his attack all the same.

"I have so much fury in me," he said. "I know it's meant for Sam, but it's coming out all over the place. I don't know how I'll ever deal with him. One minute I want to kill him, the next I want to hold him and tell him I'll do absolutely anything in the world to help him. What I really can't stand is imagining him with Bliss."

"What was it like seeing her?"

"Terrific, although you were right about her being way too thin and fragile. She looks haunted to me. And she's into Barbie dolls." He laughed. "Five years old. I was hoping it would never happen. I feel like it's my fault. If I'd been there I could have somehow protected her from the influence of her misguided peers."

She smiled. "It's so good to hear you laugh."

He pulled her closer, and his voice softened. "One day Bliss is going to realize what happened-that because she thought Sam was me, her parents split up and her father went to jail. How do I protect her from that, from blaming herself?"

"You'll find a way," she said. "Something that always touched me about you was the way you put Bliss ahead of yourself. Even when things were at their worst for you."

"You would do the same. As a matter of fact, you did, and I've never held that against you, your wanting to protect Cassie."

They were quiet for a minute and then she asked, "What's Annapolis like?"

"To visit or to live in?" He was smiling. She could hear it in his voice.

"To live in."

"It's quaint." He kissed the top of her head. "It has a lot of charm, yet everything you could possibly need or want is close by. Unless you happen to need or want a movie studio."

She laughed. "I will want a movie studio." For the first time in a long time she knew that was true. She wanted to read the script for Treasure House. She wanted to get her career back on track. She felt an energy inside her that was new and real. "I'll have to travel from time to time," she said. "But I'll work it out."

"We'll work it out," Ben said.

In the morning she dressed in Ben's underwear, made coffee, and carried two mugs of it along with her mother's notebook back to bed. Ben propped the pillow up against the wall and she settled in next to him, the notebook resting on her lap.

"It's the last one," she said, and he must have seen the apprehension in her eyes.

"Read it to me." He put his arm around her shoulders. "Read it out loud."

And with reluctant fingers she opened the stiff, water-stained cover and began to read.

48 November 5, 1957 Last Friday a friend of Susanna's came to the house. She is an older woman, about fifty, who knew Susanna when she was small and just stopped by to chat. She and Susanna were sitting in the living room and I had just fed Eden lunch in the kitchen when Susanna called me in to introduce Eden to Mrs. So-and-So. I led Eden in by the hand, but when she spotted the woman she hid behind my legs and no amount of reassurance would bring her out.

"Why, she's afraid of her own shadow," the woman said.

This has happened a few other times recently. Once with Reverend Caper, another time with Susanna's mother who said she never saw a child so afraid of people. I'm certain I'm responsible for this fear in her. How can a child raised by a recluse like me come up normal? She never sees other children. She barely sees anyone but me and Daddy and Susanna. Susanna says she's too quiet; Daddy says she's too pale. What am I doing to my child?

December 29, 1957 Kyle and Lou are here for two weeks. So far it has not been a good visit. It's been horrid in fact, at least as far as I'm concerned. They arrived two days before Christmas bearing their usual bounty of gifts. Kyle was very anxious to see Eden. But she shrank from him and cried when he reached out for her. He looked so disappointed and I felt guilty, responsible for what's happened to my daughter. "The shy stage," Lou said. "That happens around this age." Daddy and Susanna piped in that they're worried about Eden, that she's so shy with everyone. "She's not a normal two-and-a-half-year-old," Susanna said. Soon even Lou was saying there seems to be something wrong, and Kyle grew quiet around me. I read his silence as anger, and I felt I deserved it.

I barely noticed the festivities on Christmas day, I was so caught up in studying Eden. She clings to me. She wanted me to unwrap her presents for her, and after the third or fourth one Kyle said, "Let her do it herself, Kate. You do everything for her." His tone was so reproachful that it was all I could do not to cry.

Last night, I was in the kitchen and Lou and Kyle were in the living room. They must have thought I was upstairs, because they were talking about me and Eden and I'm sure their conversation was not meant for my ears.