Connor was about Bryan’s age, as fair as his cousin was dark, and with Cassie’s slow shy warmth in his eyes. There was Emma, a golden pixie of about seven, who squeezed into the chair beside her stepfather. Rebecca found it both sweet and telling to see the easy way Devin MacKade’s arm curled around the little girl while he held his sleeping baby in the crook of the other.
Wild and tough the MacKade brothers might be, but Rebecca had never seen any men so deeply entrenched in family.
“So, what do you think of Antietam so far?” Rafe stepped expertly over dog, toys and children to top off Rebecca’s glass of wine.
“I think a lot of it,” she said, and flashed him a quick smile. “It’s charming, quiet, bursting with history.”
He cocked a brow. “Haunted?”
“No one seems to doubt it.” She cast an amused look at Shane, who’d settled down next to Savannah to pat her belly. “Almost no one.”
“Some people block their imagination.” Casually Savannah shifted Shane’s hand to the left, where the baby was kicking vigorously. “There are some places in this area with very strong memories.”
It was an intriguing way of putting it, Rebecca mused. “Memories.”
Savannah shrugged. “Violent death, and violent unhappiness, leave marks, deep ones. Of course, that’s not very scientific.”
“That would depend on what theory you subscribe to,” Rebecca answered.
“I guess we’ve all had some experience with the ghosts, or leftover energy, or whatever you choose to call it,” Jared began.
“Speak for yourself.” Shane tipped back his beer. “I don’t go around talking to people who aren’t there.”
Jared only grinned. “He’s still ticked off about when I scared the hell out of him when we were kids, spending the night in the old Barlow place.”
Recognizing the look in Shane’s eye, Devin decided to step in as peacemaker. “Scared the hell out of all of us,” he said. “Rattling chains, creaking boards. I imagine you’re looking for something a little more subtle, Rebecca.”
“Well, I’m certainly looking.” It surprised and pleased her when Nate toddled over and crawled into her lap. She hadn’t been around children enough to know whether she appealed to them, or they to her. “I’m anxious to get started,” she added as Nate toyed with the tourmaline pendant she wore.
“Dinner in five,” Regan announced, her face prettily flushed, as she hurried in from the kitchen. “Let’s round up these kids. Rafe?”
“Jason’s asleep. I already put him down.”
“I’ll get Layla.” Shane shot Savannah a wicked grin. “It’s going to take Jared at least five minutes to haul you up from the couch.”
“Jared, make sure you punch him after we eat.”
“Done,” Jared assured his wife, and rose to help her up.
As exits went, it was a noisy one, as was the meal that followed. The big dining room, with its tall windows, held them all comfortably, the long cherrywood table generous enough to make room for the necessary high chairs.
The choice of spaghetti with marinara sauce, platters of antipasto and crusty bread was, Rebecca thought, inspired. There was enough for an army, and the troops dug in.
She wasn’t used to family meals, to spilled milk, scattershot conversations, arguments, or the general, friendly mess of it all. It made her feel like an observer again, but not unhappily so. A new experience, she thought, one to be enjoyed, as well as assessed.
She found it oddly stimulating that, while not everyone talked about the same things, they usually talked at the same time. Both toddlers smeared sauce lavishly on themselves and over their trays. More than once during the meal, she felt the warm brush of fur against her legs as the dog searched hopefully for dropped noodles or handouts.
She couldn’t quite keep up as conversations veered from baseball to the l
ate-summer harvest, from teething to town gossip, with a variety of unconnected subjects in between.
It dazzled her.
Her memories of family dinners were of quiet, structured affairs. One topic of conversation was introduced and discussed calmly and in depth for the course of the meal, and the meal would last precisely one hour. Like a class, Rebecca mused now. A well-organized, well-constructed and well-ordered class—at the end of which she would be firmly dismissed to attend to her other studies.
As the careless confusion swirled around her, she found herself miserably unhappy with the memory.
“Eat.”