"It's too cold to stay here."

"You can do it." "I never asked to go mountain climbing," Julie cried.

"Neither did we, but we're here."

"We've come too far to turn back."

"We made it up the mountain. Now's the easy part."

"That isn't easy.r' Julie screamed in a tone that suggested she was on the edge.

Noah, who knew that things wouldn't get better until she saw for herself that the path wasn't made of thin ice, put an arm around her and pulled her to her feet. The others crowded in.

"You can hang on to me, Julie," said Mac, the only senior boy in her group. He had been heavily disciplined for using sexually derogatory language to a female faculty member, but his chauvinism was welcome now.

ill'll go right in front of you." "I can't," Julie wailed.

"I'm scared, too," one of the other girls cried, "but no one ahead of us has fallen off."

Julie backed up, right into Noah, who didn't move an inch.

l "Come on, Jules," Mac said, taking her hand.

Between his gentle pull and Noah's small nudge, they moved her to the start of the path. Tony Phillips set off, followed by Brian, then Hope, then Mac, then Julie, and Marney, who squeezed in between Julie and Noah and put her hands on Julie's waist.

"I won't let you fall off," she called over Julie's wet shoulder, then shot a terrified glance over her own shoulder at Noah. "Don't let me, either."

"I won't," Noah said. He stayed close behind her, talking to her so that she would know he was there. He called encouragement to Julie and those in front of her and peered through the clouds ahead for sight of the others, but the visibility was too poor to see much of anything.

He pushed the thought of tragedy from mind, but it kept coming back, along with every sort of remorse imaginable. He cursed himself for thinking that he could successfully lead so large, untried, and reluctant a group, even with two experienced climbers along. He cursed the mountain, cursed the weather, cursed the Mount Court Board of Trustees for hiring him in the first place.

Knife Edge should have been crossable in half an hour, but they spent three at it. The weather slowed them to an agonizing pace that was further delayed by panic stops. When the group worked together, the panic passed. That was some solace, what with the self-reproach Noah was feeling.

The sky darkened. Dusk was fast approaching and so was foreboding.

"Can we pick it up any?" Noah called, then quickly muttered, "Forget that. You're doing just fine."

They stumbled along in the rain, crossing one stretch of rock to the next. "Center of the path," Noah yelled from time to time when someone strayed perilously close to the edge.

He was in a cold sweat by the time they finally reached the spot where Knife Edge ended and the rock flared out into a wider, safer plane.

They were greeted by the wild applause and cheers of the waiting groups, then by hugs and laughtereven he hugged and was huggedand in that short period, before the reality of the descent could loom before them, Noah knew that the trip had been worthwhile. The climbers were cold, wet, and tired, but spirited and enthusiastic enough to include him in their glee. They had tasted a kind of victory that not one of them had ever tasted before.

It kept them bolstered, even when night fell and the descent grew labored. What with rest stops and snack stops and stops when someone stumbled in the dark and fell, it was midnight before they reached the vans and four in the morning before those vans finally turned in under the wrought-iron arch and pulled around the campus drive to the dorms.

"Sleep in today," Noah told them as he sent them off to bed, and for once no one argued.

Exhausted, he headed for his own house, but exuberance kept him awake.

He stood for a time at the back window with a cup of hot cocoa, thinking how much he wanted to tell someone what had happened, if only to keep it real.

But he didn't have anyone, and the sadness of that seemed all wrong, given the victory he had scored. So, when the first hint of dawn cast its slim line of light on the horizon, he put on his running shorts and set off for town.

aige awoke at six to tiny sounds coming from the monitor that linked her room to the baby's. She crept upstairs to change Sami's diaper, then brought her down, warmed a bottle, and settled back into bed.

Kitty joined them, curling in a ball at Paige's feet.

l l "There," Paige whispered to Sami. "How's that?" She gave the pillows another nudge.

"Better?" Comfortable and lazy with the pleasure of staying warm in bed on a cool October morning, especially when she knew she'd have to get up before long, she watched Sami drink. Tiny hands framed the bottle overlapping Paige's. Sami's eyes held hers.

"Taste good?" Paige whispered with a satisfied smile. "I'll bet it does, warm milk going down just the right way." As she said it, she ran her thumb down Sami's tummy. Sami drew up her legs and made a gurgling sound that Paige chose to think was a laugh. She gave the little girl a kiss on the tip of her nose.

Settling back onto the pillow, she was struck by the loveliness of the moment. It had become a miniroutine, this early morning time with Sami, stolen moments before the day began. The house was quiet, save for the soft sound of sucking and the gentle beat of rain on the leaves of the trees in the yard. Between those lulling sounds and the warmth of the bed, of Sami, and even of kitty, she felt an unexpected peace.

She knew it couldn't last.

Sami and kitty both were temporary fixures in her life, and it was surely the novelty of their presence that gave the illusion of peace.

Still, it was nice for now.

A tap came at the window. Paige guessed it was a branch from the nearby maple and ignored it, until it came again, more insistently.

She looked at the window and gasped. After setting Sami down, she climbed from bed and raised the sash.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" she asked in an urgent whisper. The last thing she wanted was for Jill to wake up, look down, and see Noah.

"Running." He was out of breath. "Had an incredible experience. Had to tell you about it."

The incredible experience was seeing him there with what precious little he was wearing clinging to his body. "It's six-thirty in the morning!" she managed to say.

"Can I come in?"

"No!" She tried to pull her nightgown more tightly around her, but it was a poor substitute for a robe, and then Sami began to whimper, so she hurried back to the bed.

"Shhhh, sweetie, it's just Noah." She sank down, returned the bottle to the child's waiting hands, and looked up just as he climbed through the window.

Her protest came too late. He was already in the room, shutting the window behind him.

"Noah, this is my morning, my house." And he was disturbing her peace.

He looked around, spotted the bathroom, and disappeared, only to emerge seconds later wiping first his glasses, then his face and neck with a towel. His shoulders were leanly muscled and gleaming.

"Still raining," he said unnecessarily. His sneakers, running shorts, and singlet were all drenched. "But it was incredible. We were up there at the top of the mountain." He peeled the singlet over his head, tossed it aside, and rubbed himself down with the towel. "I thought for sure I'd made one hell of a mistake. I mean, the rain was coming down. The path was obscured by the clouds. The kids were terrified"he shimmied out of his shorts between swipes with the towel"and I mean temfied. I thought we were in for a major disaster"he kicked off one sneaker and bent to dry his legUsomeone falling over the edge, someone pushing someone else over the edge."

He kicked off the other sneaker. "And then they came together. I mean, it worked the way it was supposed to, but I didn't think it would. So help me, I didn't."

Tossing the towel aside, he came to the bed and then slipped under the covers. "God, am I freezing," he said, slidin closer to her.