Hot grease popped out of the pan and seared the side of Rebecca’s hand. She barely felt it as she staggered backward. Emotions, thoughts, words, sounds, reeled in her head.
Possession, she thought, dimly. This was possession. And, for the first time in her life, she fainted.
Primed to fight, Shane burst through the door. “And another thing—” he began, before he saw Rebecca crumpled on the kitchen floor, before his heart stopped.
He streaked forward, dropped down beside her to drag her into her arms. “Rebecca.” His hands were running over her face, chafing her wrists. “Rebecca, come on now. Snap out of it.” Terrified into clumsiness, he rocked her, kissed her, begged her. Until her eyes fluttered open.
“Shane.”
“That’s right.” Relief poured through him in a flood. “Just lie still, baby, till you feel better.”
“I was her,” she murmured, fighting off the fog. “I was her for a minute. I have to check my equipment.”
“The hell with your equipment.” It was pitifully easy to hold her in place. “Do as you’re told and lie still. Did you hit your head? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I don’t…I don’t think so. What happened?”
“You tell me. I walked in and you were on the floor.”
“Good Lord.” She took a deep, steadying breath and let her head rest in the crook of his arm. “I fainted. Imagine that.”
“I don’t have to imagine it. You just scared ten years off my life.” Now, naturally, there was fury to coat over the fear. “What the hell are you doing fainting? Did you eat today? Damn it, you never eat enough to keep a bird alive. You don’t get enough sleep, either. Down four or five hours, then you’re up prowling around, or clacking away at that stupid computer.”
He was working himself up into a rare state, but he couldn’t stop. “Well, that’s going to change. You’re going to start taking care of yourself. You’re nothing but bones and nerve. Didn’t they teach you anything about basic bodily needs in those fancy schools? Or don’t you think they apply to you?”
She let him run on until her head stopped spinning. He was ranting about taking her to the doctor, checking her into the hospital, getting vitamins. Finally, she held up a hand and put it over his mouth.
“I’ve never fainted before in my life, and since I didn’t care for it, I don’t intend to make it a habit. Now, if you’ll calm down a minute and let me up, the chicken’s burning.”
He said something incredible and unlikely when applied to burning chicken, but he did haul her into a chair. Moving quickly, he flicked off the heat. “What the hell were you doing?”
“I was cooking. I think it was going to be fairly successful, too. Maybe it can be salvaged.”
He grunted, turned to the tap and ran a glass of wate
r for her. “Drink.”
She started to tell him he needed it more than she, then decided against it. Obediently she sipped water. “I was cooking,” she said again, “and letting my mind wander. Then the thoughts weren’t mine any longer. They were very clear—very personal, you could say. But they weren’t mine. They were Sarah’s.”
Ice skidded up his spine. “You’re just letting yourself get too wrapped up in all this stuff.”
“Shane, I’m a sensible woman. A rational one. I know what happened here. She was cooking chicken.” With a shake of her head, Rebecca set the glass on the table. “Isn’t it odd that I would have decided to try Regan’s recipe tonight, September 16? Sarah was cooking chicken the night before the battle.”
“So now you know what they ate.”
“Yes,” she said, facing down his sarcasm. “Now I know. She was frying it, worried about her family, thinking of her son and the baby she carried. Wondering who would die in the morning. Soldiers were camped not far from here, waiting for dawn. She was frying chicken, and her husband was out with the animals. She wanted him to come in, to come inside so that they could close it all out and just be together. She worried about him. She’d have done anything to ease his mind.”
“I think you’re working too hard,” Shane said carefully. “And I think you’ve let the fact that the anniversary is tomorrow influence you.”
Steady again, she rose. “You know that’s not true. You know what’s here and you’ve decided not to face it. That’s your choice, and I respect that. Even though I know some nights you dream, and the dreams trouble you, I respect your decision and your privacy. I expect you to show my work and my needs the same respect.”
“My dreams are my business.”
“I’ve just said so. I’m not asking you to tell me anything.”
“No, you never ask, Rebecca.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “You just wait and whittle a person down with waiting. I don’t want any part of this.”
“Do you want me to go?”