"And do you approve?" Graham asked testily.

Helen studied her in frank amazement. She was broad in the shoulders, with narrow hips, and naturally sinewy. The white cotton tee shirt highlighted the muscles of her chest and arms. The close fitting jeans accentuated her leanness and height, giving her a tense feline appearance. She looked ten years younger and tautly lithe. In all the years Helen had known her, her appearance had always been refined, dignified, and wholly elegant. She had a kind of natural androgyny that suited her professional persona. Graham as an individual was secondary to her role as a musician. Her gender on the concert stage was of little consequence. This was the first time Helen had ever had a sense of Graham as a sexual being. It was a disconcerting, and at the same time, wonderfully gratifying change.

"You look quite acceptable," Helen managed to say in a tone that belied her astonishment. She was afraid overt enthusiasm would make Graham self-conscious. She knew it would be hard for Graham not to know how she looked.

Graham nodded absently, recalling Annas reaction when she had emerged from her dressing room. Anna was silent so long Graham began to think she had missed a button in some delicate location.

"Well," Graham had asked with a trace of impatience. "Do they fit or shall we have to call Max?"

Anna had cleared her throat, saying, "The fit is fabulous. You look altogether- handsome."

Handsome she had said. Graham wondered what Anna saw when she looked at her. She had never given it any thought before. How she appeared to others meant nothing to her. It had only been her music that mattered. Why it should matter now, when she had nothing to offer anyone, eluded her. And why she should care what Anna Reid thought of her was even more mystifying. She could not deny however, that she had enjoyed pulling on these clothes when she awoke that morning, and that as she did so, she remembered Annas soft praise.

"Put the tray down, for heavens sake, Helen," Graham said brusquely, annoyed with her own reminiscences. What did any of it matter!

When Helen returned an hour later, Graham was gone and her breakfast remained untouched.

**********

Hours later, Graham walked down the garden path to the sea, vaguely aware of the fine salt mist against her skin, absently welcoming the suns warmth on her face. She had been preoccupied since she awoke that morning. The hint of a refrain trailed in and out of her consciousness, making it impossible for her to concentrate on anything else. The notes were elusive, but ever present, and that was an experience she hadnt had in years. Whereas once music came to her unbidden, demanding expression, that inner voice had been silenced along with the surging rhythms of her once vital life. Why it should return now, she didnt know, and she was afraid to question it, lest the music desert her once again. She was feeling the notes, searching for the form, when she struck something large and unyielding in her path. She had no time to react, emitting a curse as she found herself lying tangled in a thicket by the side of the path.

"Damn!" she swore, struggling to free herself from grasping tendrils of ivy.

"Oh my god, Graham!" Anna cried, rushing to her. "Oh god, are you hurt?" She began frantically pulling at the vines, attempting to pull Graham upright. Please dont let her be hurt!

Graham took firm hold of Annas hands, stilling her frantic motion. "Im quite all right. Just take my arm and help me up."

Anna reached for her hand and slipped her other arm around Grahams waist. She was surprised once again by the strength in the deceptively lithe body. She gasped when her worried eyes searched Grahams face. "Oh lord, youve cut yourself," she cried. With trembling fingers she brushed a trickle of blood from Grahams chin.

"What was it?" Graham asked quietly, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

Anna looked devastated. "My wheelbarrow! How could I have been so careless!" She was close to tears. "God, you could have really been hurt!"

Graham stared toward Anna. "Your wheelbarrow?"

"Yes," she said miserably. The thought of Graham injured was unbearable. She had begun to see Yardley as a maze of potential obstacles, all waiting for Graham to walk innocently into their midst. Every time she watched Graham maneuver the uneven flagstone path, or climb the crumbling steps from the bluff, her heart pounded with anxiety. Seeing her reach across the stove for the coffee pot, knowing how easily her sleeve could touch the flame, made Anna want to scream out loud. She cursed whatever godless force had stolen Grahams sight, and exiled this magnificent being from the world. That she might have been the cause of further harm completely undid her. She didnt seem to be able to think quite rationally where Graham was concerned. She held onto her protectively, one hand brushing at the smudges on her tee-shirt.

Graham reached out for Annas hand, laughing. "Was it a trap?"

Anna cradled the long, delicate fingers in hers, aware of how vulnerable Graham was despite her stubborn independence. "No, just my thoughtlessness," she managed around the tightness in her throat.

Graham was suddenly serious, aware of the trembling in Annas voice. She grasped Annas shoulders with both hands, looking intently into her face.

"Its not the first time Ive fallen," she said gently. "Im quite fine, you know."

Anna stepped closer until there was only inches between them. "No, youre not. You have blood on your face and thistles in your hair."

Graham laughed again, a sound that warmed Annas heart.

"Well, for heavens sake, get them out! Havent I disgraced myself enough for one morning?"

Anna gently disentangled the wisps of vines from the thick, rich hair, whispering softly, "You couldnt be undignified if you tried. I dont know how, but you elevate jeans and a tee shirt to an art form." Her heart was still racing wildly, and for some reason she couldnt quite catch her breath. She was close enough to smell the faint cologne Graham wore. It seemed to flood her senses as the rest of the world receded from her consciousness. She was dimly aware of a faint pounding in her belly.

A faint smile flickered at the corners of Grahams mouth as she straightened her shoulders, her hands resting lightly on Annas bare forearms. "Am I presentable now?"

"Youre beautiful," Anna answered thickly. A pulse beat under the satin skin of Grahams neck, and for some unfathomable reason, Anna wanted to rest her fingers there. Maybe it was the fear invoked by Grahams recent fall; maybe it was the sorrow she couldnt dispel after reading the articles about Grahams previous life; maybe it was the soul wrenching sadness of the only music Graham ever played, alone in the dark - something made her bold enough to brush her fingers gently through the disheveled hair on Grahams forehead, and stroke the satin skin of her cheek. She rested her hand against the ivory column of her neck, scarcely breathing, her vision narrowed until Graham was all she could see.

At the first light contact of Annas tentative touch, Graham closed her eyes, a light shiver coursing through her. A faint flush colored her usually pale cheeks. Her words came slowly, with the same caution she used when crossing an unfamiliar room.

"I can feel the salt from the sea and the warmth from the sun on your skin. You smell of the earth- - rich, dark, vital. You are aliveand that is true beauty."

Anna felt each word, as she had felt Grahams music, in some deep part of herself she hadnt known existed. Without thinking, she slipped her arms around Grahams waist, resting her cheek against the thin cotton shirt, embracing her gently.

"Thank you," Anna whispered against Grahams shoulder.

Graham was acutely aware of Annas heart beating against her, of the soft swell of Annas breast against her chest, and the fine tremor in Annas body. Graham shuddered slightly and stepped back gently, taking a deep breath.

"The stone benchis it still there, under the sycamore?"

"Yes," Anna said quietly, sensing her withdrawal. She had to let her go, not understanding why it was so difficult.

"If you dont mind the company, Id like to sit out here a while." Graham needed distance between them, but she could not bear to leave.

"Id love the company," Anna said softly. "Do you know the way?"

Graham laughed. "I used to. Are there any strange obstacles in the path?"

"All clear."

Anna followed Graham with her eyes as she made her way carefully but unerringly to the bench. Only when Anna saw her safely seated could she return to her work. Even then she glanced up every few moments just to look at her. Anna was delighted that Graham accepted Annas gift of new clothes so magnanimously. Not only were they more practical, she looked terrific in them. As much as she loved the impeccably cut trousers and dress shirts Graham usually wore, this casual garb was unusually compelling. She could still vividly recall her shock when Graham had first appeared in them. Whereas before Grahams clothes accentuated her ethereal aloofness, these form-fitting casual shirts and pants emphasized her sinewy sensuality. Anna stared while something foreign erupted in her, and her heart began to trip over itself. When Graham asked for her opinion, she couldnt admit that what had come to mind was breathtaking. But she was , in that aristocratic way of some women, and each time Anna saw her, she was more aware of just how physically attractive she found Graham to be. She had no reference for what she felt, but it was certainly undeniable.

She pulled roots and transplanted the day lilies that were multiplying in great abundance. Although there was silence between them, she was acutely aware of Grahams presence and was soothed by it. When she glanced up at one point, she was struck by the distant expression on Grahams face. She was used to Grahams lapses in attention, although she was more accustomed to their accompanying some painful memory. Today Graham appeared distracted, but not distressed. Her eloquent hands were moving on her outstretched thighs, delicately, but with purpose.