Nora woke alone, again, in the lighted room. It was cold. The house was quiet, which meant Harry had probably gone outside. She walked down the hall and saw him on the top step, looking across the valley to where the hills cut a dark silhouette against a clear sky. The new moon sailed a sharp prow among piercing stars. The stillness would bring a frost before morning. Was that what was worrying him, a frost on the new vines? Nora opened the screen door, taking care that it closed noisily.
He started at the sound and shuffled along the step. She sat beside him, glancing at his closed, perfect profile, and he put his arm around her shoulders. She joined him in looking at the distant view.
‘Sorry,’ said Harry. ‘Didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘It got cold without you.’
‘Sorry.’
He gathered her
