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placed a marker in her spot, and closed the book. Then, leaning against the battered settee they’d bartered for to replace the one the Yankees burned, she gave Becks her full attention. “The speed of my reading doesn’t matter, Becks. Since when have you been so fascinated by your own reflection?”
    “I was thinking.” Becks picked up the pencil again, but couldn’t think of anything else to write. She tapped it against the table, and heard Pearl’s quiet tsk .
    “Thinking about tonight’s crabbing adventure, no doubt?”
    “I was wondering if Lola would need more crabs, with Major Creel coming tomorrow for supper.”
    “No, you weren’t. You weren’t thinkin’ about Creel at all.”
    “Maybe I was.”
    “You were thinkin’ about someone else entirely.”
    “I wonder what he was doing there.”
    “Creel?” Pearl was teasing her now, and Becks twisted on her stool to glare at her sister.
    “You know who I mean.”
    “I just wanted to hear you admit that you were thinking about him.”
    “I wonder who he was.”
    “Really?” Pearl had a way of drawling words when she was being sarcastic. “It didn’t look like it mattered. His name was Mac, and he wasn’t a pirate, and apparently that’s all you need to know about a man before you let him kiss you.”
    Becks gasped in mock outrage. “Did you just call me a hussy?”
    “Now, you heard every word that came out of my mouth, and not once—”
    “You implied it pretty damn hard!”
    Becks glared at her sister, but Pearl’s grin grew. “Girl, you acted worse than a hussy tonight!”
    Becks gasped again, and twisted in her seat to snatch up a hairbrush to throw at her sister’s head. Pearl laughed, and dodged it. “Your aim hasn’t improved any, either. It’s a miracle you managed to land in his arms.” And then, seeing Becks scoop up her grandmama’s porcelain powder dish, Pearl squealed and threw herself over the edge of the battered settee. Peeking from behind it, she tried her best apologetic grin. But Becks wasn’t fooled; her sister was moments from laughing. “Truce?”
    “No. Stick your head up a little higher.”
    Pearl stuck her tongue out, and then ducked down again when Becks pretended like she really would throw her heirloom dish. When her sister was hidden again, Becks carefully returned the dish to her table, and put the lid back on. It was a beautiful—and useless—piece of art that Becks enjoyed looking at simply for its history. Her family, and Beckett Plantation in general, had so few items left that were just pretty. She might never remember to use the precious powder the dish held, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love it just the same.
    Pearl’s voice floated up from behind the settee. “I know you’re not really mad.”
    “You called me a hussy.”
    “You kissed a man you just met!”
    “He kissed me .” Although the distinction really shouldn’t matter, because Becks had kissed him right back. From the moment she’d gotten a good look at the man, she’d been utterly enthralled. Once he smiled at her, she’d known that she wanted to taste him. And gracious peace alive , he’d tasted good.
    “You let him. You should have slapped him.”
    Becks sighed, and glanced at herself in the mirror again. “I didn’t want to.”
    “I know. You should’ve seen Creel’s face when you didn’t. Lord, I thought he’d have a conniption.”
    “I don’t think I really care. Mama mentioned that Creel’d come calling last week when we were out in the back plot. I guess he’s imagining we’re courting now.”
    “Did you notice your mysterious Mac managed to not tell Creel anything about himself?”
    “I noticed that he asked me Mac’s name three times on the way back up to the house.”
    “Really? You were so dazed I’m surprised you noticed anything. And did you notice I managed to divert his attention, each time?”
    “Yes, thank you.” Becks turned on her stool again, and resting her elbows against