they were both newly soaked.
Laughing for no reason other than it felt good, he followed her upstairs. Cooper hesitated only a moment when he reached the threshold.
She crossed into the darkness and returned a moment later to hand him a dry towel. âCome in by the fire. Iâll change.â She hurried across the room and disappeared behind a door.
Cooper stood in the center of the small apartment and scrubbed the water from his face. Then he stirred up the fire and looked around the room. Hundreds of books lined the walls and art, fine art, blanketed every inch of space left. He knew, without having to ask, that these were the few, final treasures of what once must have been a grand home. Heâd always thought of Southerners coming home to only the crumbs left of their former lives. He never thought of Northerners losing everything in the war.
Slowly, he realized what a joke it must have been for him to loan her books. She probably grew up with a real library in her house.
He pulled off his duster and damp coat, hanging them over chairs to dry. Unlike the store, the apartment above was neat, orderly, with a once valuable rug adding a warmth that made the small place a home.
He saw what must be Milesâs room across from Maryâs closed door. Maps and charts covered the walls of his chamber. A cot was crammed into one corner, making room for a huge desk weighted with books and papers.
âYour brother studying something?â he yelled toward the closed door.
Maryâs muffled answer returned, âHe wants to write a book about the battles in the war. Heâs already written several articles that sold back east.â
âAnd spent all the money on more books,â Cooper guessed.
âIâm afraid so.â Mary could barely be heard. âBut it will all be worth it once heâs published.â
Cooper couldnât bring himself to invade Woodburnâs private space. He never would have guessed the cold man would have such a secret.
Maryâs door opened, shining more light into the room. Cooper turned and watched her move about.
âIâll put on some tea.â Nervousness shook her words. âWe can drink it while my hair dries.â She crossed into the tiny square of a kitchen and poured water into a pot.
He couldnât take his eyes off of her. Against her robe, he could see the outline of her body and the grace in each movement. She didnât belong in faded dresses.
After she handed him a cup of tea, she pulled a stool close to the fire and began brushing her hair dry in the warm air.
Cooper had seen his sisters do the same thing a thousand times, but as Mary dried her long chestnut mane, he couldnât stop staring.
âIâll only take a few minutes,â she apologized when she looked up.
âTake a lifetime,â he whispered. âItâs beautiful to watch.â
Mary laughed. âIf weâre to be friends, Mr. Adams, you canât tease me. Iâm fully aware that Iâm plain. Miles says when we save enough money we can go back east and Iâll become a schoolmarm. He says I have the look of one already.â
âYou could teach school here,â he said more tohimself than her as he moved to the chair behind her stool.
She went back to pulling the brush through her hair.
âMary, whyâd you ask me to kiss you the other night?â he inquired after several minutes of silence.
âI donât know.â She didnât look at him. âMaybe I just wanted to know how it felt.â
âMy kiss or any kiss?â
âYours.â She stared into the embers. âI was kissed once and didnât like it. I thought that if you kissed me then I wouldnât think of it as being something ugly.â
She rose to her feet. âThe rain sounds like it may have stopped. I should change.â
He stood, blocking her path. âDo you think I could try again? On the kiss, I
Andria Large, M.D. Saperstein