First Impressions

played never brought anything but pain to the people who loved her. I don’t have the time or the skill for those games.”
    As she started to walk to the stairs, Vance stepped in front of her to bar her way. She lifted her chin to stare with eyes that glittered with anger and tears. “You should have told me to go to hell,” he said quietly.
    Shane swallowed. “Go to hell, then,” she muttered, and tried to move past him again.
    Vance took her shoulders, holding her firmly at arm’s length. “Are you angry with me, Shane, or with yourself for telling me something that was none of my business?” he asked.
    After taking a deep breath, Shane stared at him, dry-eyed. “I’m angry because you’re cynical, and I’ve never been able to understand cynicism.”
    “Any more than I understand an idealist.”
    “I’m not an idealist,” she countered. “I simply don’t automatically assume there’s someone waiting to take advantage of me.” She felt calmer suddenly, and sadder. “I think you miss a lot more by not trusting people than you risk by trusting them.”
    “What happens when the trust is violated?”
    “Then you pick up and go on,” she told him simply. “You’re only a victim if you choose to be.”
    His brows drew together. Is that what he considered himself? A victim? Was he continuing to allow Amelia to blight his life two years after she’d died? And how much longer would he look over his shoulder for the next betrayal?
    Shane felt his fingers relax, saw the puzzled consideration on his face. She lifted a hand to touch his shoulder. “Were you hurt very badly?” she asked him.
    Vance focused on her again, then released her. “I was . . . disillusioned.”
    “That’s the worst kind of hurt, I think.” In compassion, she laid a hand on his arm. “When someone you love or care for turns out to be dishonest, or an ideal turns to glass, it’s difficult to accept. I always set my ideals high. If they’re going to crumble, I’d just as soon take the long fall.” She smiled, slipping her hand down so it linked with his. “Let’s go for a drive.”
    His thoughts were so bound up in her words, it took him a moment to understand the suggestion. “A drive?” he repeated.
    “We’ve been cooped up for weeks,” Shane stated as she pulled him toward the stairs. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t done anything but work until I tumbled into bed. It’s a beautiful day, maybe the last of Indian summer.” She shut the basement door behind them. “And I bet you haven’t had a tour of the battlefield yet. Certainly not with an expert guide.”
    “Are you,” he asked with the beginnings of a smile, “an expert guide?”
    “The best,” she said without modesty. As she had hoped, the tension went out of the fingers that were laced with hers. “There’s nothing about the battle I can’t tell you, or as some of my critics would claim, won’t tell you.”
    “As long as I don’t have to take a quiz afterward,” Vance agreed as she pulled him out the back door.
    “I’m retired,” she reminded him primly.
    ***
    “The Battle of Antietam,” Shane began as she drove down a narrow, winding road lined with monuments, “though claimed as a clear victory for neither side, resulted in the repulse of Lee’s first effort to invade the North.” Vance gave a quick grin at her faintly lecturing tone, but didn’t interrupt. “Near Antietam Creek here in Sharpsburg,” she continued, “on September 17, 1862, Lee and McClellan engaged in the bloodiest single day of the Civil War. That’s Dunker Church.” Shane pointed to a tiny white building set off the road. “Some of the heaviest fighting went on there. I have some pretty good prints for the museum.”
    Vance glanced back at the peaceful little spot as Shane drove by. “Looks quiet enough now,” he commented, and earned a mild look.
    “Lee divided his forces,” she went on, ignoring him, “sending Jackson to capture Harper’s Ferry. A Union soldier picked up a copy of Lee’s orders, giving McClellan an advantage, but he didn’t move fast enough. Even when he engaged Lee’s much smaller army in Sharpsburg, he failed to smash through the line before Jackson returned with support. Lee lost a quarter of his army and withdrew. McClellan still didn’t capitalize on his advantage. Even so, twenty-six thousand men were lost.”
    “For a retired schoolteacher, you don’t seem to have forgotten the facts,” Vance