8
DASH
Rebecca was asleep in my bed. Her hair, so straight and dark, fanned out across my pillow and I knew I'd never be able to get the scent of her from that pillow—or my mind—ever again. She was all that we'd wanted, and more. We slipped from the room and Connor pulled on the pants he'd left on the floor of the parlor. In the kitchen, I put the coffee pot on the stove, and then stoked the embers back to life. Connor brought wood in from the back porch and handed a piece to me to add to the fire.
"She's remarkable," he said, leaning against the door. While it was warm now, the sun was setting earlier and earlier and the evenings were cool. The crisp air that signaled the first signs of winter was upon us. "Despite her upbringing."
I stood and found some mugs. "Her da sounds like an a
