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“Fourth Squadron?” Barely taking his eyes from the road, he glanced her way. “Isn’t that the only Tenth Cavalry Regiment unit still in active service?”
“Yes.” Her eyes widened. “How would you know such military minutia?”
“My great-great-grandfather served in the Tenth Cavalry Regiment.”
“You’re kidding…”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “He was stationed right here at Fort Lincoln.”
“When?” She came to attention.
“The late 1870s or early 1880s…” Despite the icy patches, he stole a glimpse. “Why?
“Because my great-great-grandfather was stationed at Fort Lincoln in 1879.”
“What was his name?”
“Ben Williams.”
“Seriously?” He pulled off the road to watch her expressions.
“Yup.”
Leaning his head against his headrest, he chuckled as he studied her features.
“What’s so funny?” A cautious smile fluttered across her face.
“Ben Williams was my great-great-grandfather, too.”
“No!” Her full lips formed an O.
“Yeah.”
“So, we’re third cousins?”
“Kind of…” Mid-nod, he recalled his family’s history. “Actually, he’s my adoptive great-great-grandfather, so we’re third cousins on paper only. He raised my great-great-grandmother, Ma—”
“Marianna.” She nodded. “My grandmother mentioned her often.”
His gaze connecting, he paused a beat. “What are the odds?”
“In fact, I have her journals in my suitcase…” She jerked her thumb toward the back seat. “Grandma was the family historian. She…” Her voice caught. “She left me her collection when she passed away.”
“I’m sorry.” The words were automatic, but when her eyes bunched, he wished he had offered more than a cliché.
“Thanks, but it’s been years since I last saw her.” Swallowing, she pressed her lips together. “I’ve been deployed in Afghanistan.”
“Wow.” Who’d have guessed? He took a second look, unable to imagine her in combat. Nothing about her was fussy or frilly. Still…His gaze becoming a stare, he offered his hand. “By the way, I’m Lucas Kaylor, but everyone calls me Luke.”
“Maeve Jackson.” A quick smile lifted the corner of her lips as she shook hands.
“Maeve.” He rolled the word over his tongue, liking the sound. “What’s it mean?”
“She who intoxicates.” She dimpled.
He again caught himself staring, broke the gaze, and started the engine. “The wrecker’s out of sight. Why don’t we continue this conversation while we catch up?”
“The driver said he’s taking my car to Smitty’s.”
