Charles, she felt it, and her pulse was still scrambling. Dispassionately she wondered what her blood pressure would register.
'Come on, come on, you bully, you coward! You son of a bitch! Come back!'
The sound of her own voice, the raw intensity in it, had her forcing herself to take several deep breaths. Losing objectivity, she warned herself. Any project was doomed without objectivity.
So she made herself sit, monitored the equipment for another thirty minutes. Precisely she added the event to her records before shutting the computer down.
Too restless to sleep, she left her room. In the hall, she stood quietly, waiting, hoping, but there was only the dark and the stillness. She moved downstairs, lingering as she tried to envision the murdered Confederate soldier, the shocked Abigail, the terrified servants, the murdering Barlow.
They were all less substantial than thoughts to her.
She tried every room—the parlor where some said you could smell wood smoke from a fire that wasn't burning, the library, which both Regan and Cassie avoided as much as possible, because they felt uncomfortable there. In the solarium there was nothing but leafy plants, cozy chairs, and the light of the moon through the glass.
She struggled against discouragement as she wandered into the kitchen. There had been a moment, she reminded herself. She'd experienced it. Patience was as important as an open and curious mind.
She was drawn to the window, and that open and curious mind drifted past the gardens and the lawn, through the trees, to the fields beyond. And the house where Shane was sleeping.
The urge was so strong it shocked her. The urge to go out, walk over that grass, over those fields. She wanted to go into that house, to go to him. Foolishness, she told herself. It was doubtful he was alone. She imagined he was snuggled up with that beautiful brunette, or some other equally appealing woman, for the night.
But still the urge was there, so powerful, so elementally physical it brought an ache to her belly. Was it the place that pulled at her? she wondered. Or the man?
It was something to think about. Something she would have to gather the courage to explore. No more mousy, fade-into-the-corner Rebecca, she thought. No more spending her life huddled behind a desk or a handy book. Experience was what she'd come here for. And if Shane MacKade offered experience, she'd sample it.
In her own time, of course. At her own pace.
He saw her as a woman who could hold her own with him, and she was going to find a way to do exactly that.
He wanted to take her to bed.
How does that make you feel, Dr. Knight?
Frightened, exhilarated, curious.
Frightened, you say. Of the sexual experience?
Sex is a basic biological function, a human experience. Why would I be frightened of it? Because it remains unknown, she answered herself. So it frightens, exhilarates and stirs the curiosity. He stirs the curiosity. Once I have control of the situation—
Ah, Dr. Knight, so it's a matter of control? How do you feel about the possible loss of control?
Uncomfortable, which is why I don't intend to lose it.
She blew out a breath, shut off the questioning part of her brain. But she couldn't quite shut off that nagging urge, so she walked quickly out of the kitchen and went upstairs to bed.
But she dreamed, and the dreams were full of laughter….
A man's arms around her, the two of them rolling over a soft, giving mattress like wrestling children. Giggles muffled against warm lips, teasing fingers combing through her long, tangled hair.
Hush, John, you''ll wake the baby.
You 're making all the noise.
Quick hands sneaking under her cotton nightgown, finding wonderful spots to linger.
You 've got too many clothes on, Sarah. I want you naked.
Mock slaps and tussles, more giggles.
I'm still carrying around extra weight from the baby.
You're perfect. He's perfect. God, I want you. I want you, Sarah. I love you. Let me love you.
While the laughter stilled, the joy didn't. And the soft feather bed gave quietly beneath the weight and rhythm of mating….
She was groggy the next day, not from lack of sleep, but from the dream that wouldn't quite leave her. For most of the afternoon she closeted herself in her room, using her modem to call up snatches of data on the population of Antietam, circa 1862.
Her printer was happily spewing out a list of names from census, birth and death registries when Cassie knocked on the door.
'I'm sorry to bother you.'
'No, that's fine.' Distracted, Rebecca peered through her glasses. 'I'm trying to find Abigail's lover—if she had one.'
'Oh.' Obviously flustered, Cassie ran a hand through her hair. 'But how would you be able to?'
'Process of elimination—ages, marital status.' Remembering, she took the glasses off, and Cassie popped into focus. 'You seemed awfully sure he didn't have a wife.'
'No, he couldn't have.'
'And he wasn't in the army, but you said something about him resigning some kind of post when he left town.'
'It's so odd to hear you talk about it, about them, as if they were real and here.'
Rebecca smiled and leaned back in her chair. 'Aren't they?'
'Well, yes, I suppose they are.' Cassie shook her head. 'I get caught up in the story. I came to tell you I have to run to the hospital.'
'Hospital?' Alarmed, Rebecca shot out of her chair. 'Is one of the children hurt? Sick?'
'Oh, no, no. Shane—'
'He's had an accident.' Rebecca's face went dead white. 'Where is he? What happened?'
'Rebecca, it's Savannah. She's in labor.' Curious, Cassie watched Rebecca sink bonelessly back into her chair. 'I didn't mean to frighten you.'
'It's all right.' Weakly she waved a hand. 'I'm supposed to know better than to jump to conclusions.'
'Shane called a couple of hours ago after Jared called him. I needed to arrange for a sitter before I could go. I'm going to drop Connor and Emma off with Ed at the diner. You haven't met Ed yet. She's just wonderful. She can't handle Ally, tot), but there's day care at the hospital.'
'Uh-huh.' Rebecca had nearly recovered.
'I didn't want you to think you'd been deserted. There's some cold cuts and a pie in the kitchen, if you get hungry. I have to take the car, but I'm supposed to tell you that you can go over to the cabin, or the farm, and borrow one if you need to go out.'
'I don't need to go anywhere.' Calm again, she smiled. 'Savannah's having her baby. That's wonderful. Is everything all right?'
'Fine, at last report. It's just that we all want to be there.'
'Of course you do. Give mother and father my best. I'd be happy to keep Ally for you, if you like.'
'That's awfully nice of you. But I'm nursing, and I don't know how long I'll be.' Cassie nibbled her bottom lip as she began to organize things in her head. 'We're not expecting any new guests, and I've left a note for the ones who are out and about today. I usually serve tea in about an hour, but...'
'Don't worry, we'll fend for ourselves. Go on, Cassie, I can see you're dying to be there.'
'There's nothing like a new baby.'
'No, I'm sure there isn't.'
When she was alone, Rebecca tried to concentrate, but she could visualize it all. The whole MacKade family would be pacing the waiting room, probably driving the nursing staff to distraction. They'd be noisy, of course. One of them would pop into the birthing room to check the progress, and come out and report to the others.
All of them would enjoy every minute of it. That was what close families did, enjoy each other. She wondered if they had any idea how lucky they were.
She put in another two hours at the computer, easily eliminated half the male names on her list before hunger
