by Nora Roberts
"I—I'm not hungry."
"Fine. You don't need a restaurant. See?" He sounded insane, he realized. Hell, he was insane. "You've got that fancy computer, the modem and all those gizmos. You can work anywhere. You can work here."
She wasn't used to having her brain frazzled. In defense, she latched on to the last thing he'd said. "You want me to work here?"
"What's wrong with that? You've been getting along here, haven't you?"
"Yes, but-"
"Leave your equipment set up everywhere." He threw up his hands. "I don't care." In a lightning move, he leaped forward and lifted her off her feet with hands under her elbows. "I don't care," he repeated. "I'm used to it. Set up a transmitter in the hay barn, put a satellite dish on the roof. Just don't leave."
The first hint of a smile curved her lips. Perhaps relationships weren't her forte, but she believed she was getting the idea. "You want me to stay here?"
"How many languages do you speak?" Sheer frustration had him shaking her. "Can't you understand English?" He dropped her back on her feet so that he could pace. "Didn't I just say that? I can't believe I'm saying it, but I am. I'm not losing you," he muttered. "I'm not losing what I have with you. I've never felt this way about anyone. I didn't want to, but you changed everything. Now you're in my head all the time, and the thought of you not being where I can see you or touch you rips my heart out. It rips my damn heart out!" he shouted, spinning toward her with blood in his eye. "You've got no right to do that to somebody, then leave!"
She started to speak, but the look on his face when she opened her mouth stopped her cold.
"I love you, Rebecca. Oh, God, I love you. And I have to sit down."
His knees were buckling. He was sure he'd crawl next. To get some control, he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Whatever the humiliation, he would take it, as long as she stayed.
Then he looked up, looked at her. And she was weeping. His heart stopped thudding, split apart and sank.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I've got no right to treat you this way, talk to you this way. Please don't cry."
She took a sobbing breath. "In my whole life, no one has ever said those words to me. Not once, in my whole life. You can't possibly know what it's like to hear them from you now."
He rose again, resenting everyone who had ever taken her for granted, including himself. "Don't tell me it's too late for me to say them. I'll make it up to you, Rebecca, if you let me."
"I was afraid to tell you how much I love you. I thought you wouldn't want me to."
He took a moment before he tried to speak, a moment to let what she'd said seep in and heal his dented heart. "I want you to. I need you to. You're not going."
She was shaking her head when he pulled her into his arms. "I'm not going anywhere."
"You're in love with me."
"Oh, yes."
"Thank God." He covered her mouth with his while joy fountained through him. "I've been falling for you since I picked you up at the airport. You were so snotty, I couldn't resist you." A thought intruded, made him wince. "Rebecca, last night—"
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does. I was with my brothers, down at Devin's office. I got drunk and slept it off on the cot in the back room. I was angry about what was happening here, and what had happened inside me, for you. Stupid." He lowered his brow to hers. "I didn't know if you just let go a little, it could all be so right. You were always meant to come here. Do you believe that?"
"Yes." She cupped her hands on his cheeks. The full power of it struck her like light. "We're connected."
"That's one way to put it. I like 'I love you' better. I really like that. Who'd have thought?"
"I like it, too, better than anything." Blissful, she snuggled into his arms. "And I won't leave my equipment spread around the house. Since we're going to be living together, we need some sense of order."
"Living together." He tipped her face back, kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. "Wrong. We've already been there, sort of. You're going to marry me."
"Marry." Her head spun. "You." Her legs turned to water. "I have to sit down now."
"No, you don't. I'll hold you up." That lightning MacKade grin flashed before he began to trace kisses over her face, move his hands up and down and over her. Damn, but she was cute when that brain of her clicked off. "Marry me, Rebecca," he murmured. "You might as well say yes. I'll just talk you into it."
Marriage. Family. Children. Shane. Why would he have to talk her into something she wanted more than anything in the world? "I can't think."
"Good." They'd keep it that way awhile, he decided, and nipped gently at her jaw. "I love you. Mmm...pretty Rebecca, I love you. Say, 'I love you, too.'"
The muscles in her thighs went lax. "I love you, too."
"Marry me, Rebecca." His curved lips skimmed over hers, down her chin and back again. "Be my wife, have my children, stay with me. Say yes. Say, 'Yes, I'll marry you, Shane.'"
"Yes." The strength came back into her arms as she threw them around his neck. "Yes, I'll marry you, Shane."
He nibbled around to her ear. "Say, 'I'll cook for you night and day, Shane.'"
"I'll—" Her eyes popped open. The most momentous event of her life ended in laughter. "Sneaky. Very sneaky, farm boy."
"It was worth a shot, Becky." Laughing with her, he gathered her into his arms and swept her in circles. "But I'll take the best two out of three."
Epilogue
Sunlight glinted off snow and the ice that crusted over it, so that the land sparkled clean and pure. They would all be there soon, Rebecca thought. All the MacKades, with their noise and their energy. And they would come here, to the meadow where a simple stone marker rose out of the untrampled snow and cast its thin gray shadow over white.
But she had come first. She and her husband. The word, even after three months of marriage, still made her heart trip with pure joy. Shane Cameron Mac-Kade was her husband. This day, the first day of the new year, she had love, she had a family, and the future was hers.
She slipped her hand in his, the hand that carried the simple gold band she'd wanted on her finger. And together they stood.
"It's what they all wanted," Shane said quietly. "Acknowledgment for a life that ended too soon. Acknowledgment is a kind of peace, don't you think?"
"That's what you feel here now, in the air. And I'll find his family's descendants." She turned her head, smiled up at Shane. "It'll take time—but we have time."
"I'll help you." He tipped her face up for a kiss. "We all will. It's a MacKade project. And you've got to finish putting your book together. I want the first copy, hot off the press, of The Legends of Antietam by Rebecca Knight MacKade."
"That's Dr. MacKade to you," she said and chuckled against his lips. "I'll finish the book very soon now." She turned again, touched a hand to the cool stone that marked a young man's grave. "And we'll finish the rest, together. It's what they wanted from us—John and Sarah."
"I can still feel them. In the house. In the land."
"We always will." Content, Rebecca snuggled into his arms as the wind kicked up and sent snow flying. "But it's different now. Settled."
"Settled." He smiled, resting his cheek on the top of her head. It was a word he'd never expected to apply to himself. But how well it fit, how well she fit. "I love you, Rebecca."
"I know." Still her heart swelled just hearing it. "I love you."
It was the perfect time, she thought. The perfect place. Though she stayed in the circle of his arms, she tilted her head back. She wanted to see his face when she told him, to see what came into his eyes. She drew a breath because the words, the first time they were said, were so precious.
"We're going to have a baby."
His eyes went totally blank, and that made her lips curve. "What?"
How lovely, she thought, to have the chance to say it again. "We're going to have a baby, in a little over eight months." Her smile spread, her eyes filled as sh
e took his limp hand and pressed it to her stomach. "We're going to have a baby," she said a third time.
"You're pregnant." His breath eame out in a whoosh, and his eyes were no longer blank. Shock, joy, delight. Everything she'd wanted to see raced into them. "We're pregnant." His gaze dropped down to their joined hands covering a miracle. "Our baby."
"Our baby." Then she let out a rich laugh as she was spun off her feet and into wild circles that sent snow flying into the sunlight.
He stopped as abruptly as he'd begun, and now concern and a touch of fear showed on his face. "You're feeling all right? You're not sick? You don't eat enough. You've got to start eating. Are you sure you feel all right?"
"I feel wonderful. Invincible." She touched her lips to his. "I feel loved."
"Rebecca." His mouth lingered, then gently deepened the kiss, and the arms that cradled her gathered her closer yet. "You are loved." Emotion flowed through him as she nestled her head on his shoulder. His wife. His child. "It's a circle," he murmured, looking down at the stone marker again. "Season to season."
"Yes. If it's a boy, I'd like to name him Cameron."
"It feels right. It all feels so right." He heard his dogs barking in the distance, quick yelps of joy and recognition. "That's the family coming." He kissed her once again, then turned from the snow-draped meadow, boots crunching as he walked back toward the house. "I can't wait to tell them another Mac-Kade's on the way. We need champagne or something. Oh, you can't have any alcohol. Well, we'll come up with something." He glanced down, grinning like a fool. "Hey, that's why you didn't drink anything for New Year's Eve."
"Yes, that's why." She cocked a brow at him. She wondered if he knew he was rambling, and being simply so adorable she wanted to shout with laughter. "Shane, you can put me down now," Rebecca told him.
He only held her closer. "No, I can't."
"You don't have to carry me all the way into the house."
"Yes, I do." His eyes met hers and he laughed. "I've got you now, Rebecca MacKade. I'm not letting go."
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