"No quicker way to get rid of a man than for women to talk about childbirth." Savannah's voice was light, but there was a knot of worry at the back of her neck. Something had been in those eyes, she thought, that he hadn't wanted her to see.
"I mentioned Lamaze classes to Rafe, and he went dead white." Amused, Regan slipped another dish in the drainer. "But then he gritted his teeth."
"He'll do fine." With a last glance at the screen door, Savannah picked up another plate. "He loves you. That's the big one, isn't it?"
"Yeah." With a dreamy little sigh, Regan plunged into the dishwater again. "That's the big one."
On the walk home, Savannah spied her first firefly glinting in the woods. Summer was coming, she thought, watching Bryan dart ahead, charging invisible foes. She wanted it to come. She wanted the heat, the long, hazy days, the close, airless nights.
What she wanted, Savannah realized, was the passing of time. A full year, four full seasons, in this place. In this home. With this man.
"Something's on your mind?" she said quietly.
"I've got a lot on my mind." Jared wished they could stay in the woods for a time. Stay where they could both feel the sorrows and needs of people who had died before either of them were born. "Couple of cases driving me crazy. Painters cluttering up the office. Finalizing Cassie's divorce. Contemplating becoming an uncle."
"You're being a lawyer, MacKade, using words to cloud the basics."
"I am a lawyer."
"Okay, let's start there. Hold on a minute. Bry, hit the tub," she called out.
"Aw, Mom..."
"And hit it hard, Ace. I'm right behind you."
He raced ahead, and from the edge of the woods Savannah watched the lights switch on one by one as Bryan streaked through the house. Through the open window, she could hear him singing, miserably off-key, and was satisfied that he was in his bathtime mode.
"Why are you a lawyer?"
The question stumped him, mainly because his mind was so far removed from it. "Why am I a lawyer?"
"And try to answer in twenty thousand words or less."
"Because I like it." The first answer was the simplest. "I like figuring out the best arguments, wading through and studying both sides until I find the right arguments. I like winning." He moved his shoulders. "And because justice is important. The system of justice, however flawed, is vital. We're nothing without it."
"So, you believe in justice, and you like to argue and win." She tilted her head at him. "Which puts all of that into one sentence. See how easy it is?"
"What's your point?"
/> "My point is that you also like to complicate things." She touched a hand to his cheek. "What are you complicating now, Jared?"
"Nothing." Because he needed to, he took her wrist and pressed his lips into her palm. "I'm not complicating a thing. I liked having you at the farm, you and Bryan. Crowded around the kitchen table, with too many people talking at once."
"And throwing biscuits."
"And throwing biscuits. I liked hearing you and Regan and Cassie clattering around the kitchen while we were playing ball outside."
"Typical." She smiled a little. "You'd say traditional male-female placement."
"Sue me." He gathered her close. And there, in the quiet, he thought he could hear the struggle. Stranger against stranger, hand to hand, eternally. Right, perhaps, against right. "Feel it?" he murmured.
"Yes." Fear, she thought, closing her eyes. Desperation. And constant bleeding hope. Perhaps she could feel the echoes of it in the woods because she'd known all those emotions so well. "Have you ever asked yourself why they're still here? What they might have left to say or do?"
"The fight's not over. It never is."
She shook her head. "The need's not over. The need to find home. To find peace, I suppose. It never is. But I'm finding it here."
When she started to draw back, he tightened his grip. "I listened outside the door to the three of you talking in the kitchen. It bothered me, Savannah, hearing about you being alone when you had Bryan. It bothered me imagining that, the way it bothered me when you said you'd been sick all that time."