He looked pained. “Do you have to?”
She sniffed, ducked under his arm and stepped out of the stall. “Cook your own dinner then.”
“You know what I’ve noticed?” Casually he turned off the shower, reached for a towel. “You pick up things in a snap. I mean, you ask a million questions, figure it out, file it all away. I’d bet you could go out there in the morning and handle the milking without a hitch.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she warned him, and toweled off, then bundled herself into a robe.
“I’ve seen you work a crossword puzzle in something under two minutes. That time we went to the market and you bought groceries, you had the money out before the total came up. To the penny.”
She shrugged, picked up a comb from the side of the sink and ran it through her hair. “So, I’m good at parlor tricks.”
“You could probably build a nuclear reactor in the living room if you put your mind to it. But you can’t fry an egg.” Watching her, he wrapped the towel around his hips. “Or, more accurately, you don’t want to fry an egg, so you don’t bother to figure it out.”
She flicked a glance over her shoulder. “Caught me. Now what’s your point?”
“I’ll cook, and you build the nuclear reactors.”
She smiled, but he saw the hint of clouds in her eyes. “Rebecca.” Patient, he cupped her face in his hands. “Your brain is only one of the very appealing things about you. I like watching you think almost as much as I like watching you when you can’t think. Whatever it took to get you to this point doesn’t matter. Because you’re here.”
She let out a sigh. “It’s hard to stop wishing you could be normal.”
“Baby, you are normal. It doesn’t mean you can’t be special.”
That was so simple, she thought. And so sensible. And so like him. Rising on her toes, she touched her lips to his. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay, let’s go downstairs. You can give me my first cooking lesson.”
Chapter 11
“I really appreciate the time, Savannah.”
Savannah stretched out her long legs and glanced at the tape recorder Rebecca had set on the table between them. “It’s no problem. I’ve got the time.”
Rebecca scanned the living area of the cabin. It was bright and cluttered. Layla sat on the rug nearby and made engine noises as she raced a large plastic truck. “A woman with an active son and two kids in diapers can’t have much time to spare.”
“It only gets crazy around here ten or twelve times a day.” Savannah slid a glance toward her daughter. “This seems to be a lull.”
“How do you manage?” Rebecca blurted out. “I mean, three children—a new baby, your work, your home, your life.”
“The first trick is to enjoy it. And I do. Since they’re not here to get cocky about it, I’ll tell you that my men do their share.”
“You have a beautiful family.” Hearing the wistfulness in her own voice, Rebecca shook it off. “Let me explain what I’m after. The book I’m working on deals with Antietam specifically, the battle, of course, but the angles I’m most interested in are the legends that surround this area, and personal experiences.”
“Ghost stories.”
“To some extent. The MacKade connection,” Rebecca continued. “Regan and Rafe. They were both drawn to the inn, shared extraordinary experiences. Rafe came back to town for the inn, and Regan was drawn to it through him. The inn also played a major part in Cassie and Devin’s lives and their relationship. I’ve interviewed each of them separately, and each corroborates the other’s feelings and experiences. Some of those experiences were shared, some separate, but all seem to touch on the story of the two corporals.”
“And you want me to tell you mine.”
“Yes. I interviewed Jared this morning in his office. Oh, and I wanted to tell you I loved your paintings. Especially the one of the woods.”
“Thanks. It was—is—the woods for us. If you want to use the word connection, I suppose that’s ours.” Savannah narrowed her eyes as she thought back. “The inn has a very strong pull. What Regan and Rafe have done there, and with Cassie and Devin living there, it’s, I don’t know, funneled off a great deal of the sadness. It was a sad place for a long time. But Regan tells me you tracked down some information on the Confederate corporal.”
“Franklin Gray, yes.”
“You said that Abigail had him identified and sent home to his family.” Thinking of it, Savannah nodded. “That was very brave of her. And very kind.”