A fresh wave of thunder descended across her father’s brow. “What did you say?”
There was a dangerous note in his voice and at any other time she might have backed off. But this time she had to take a stand.
“This is a love child, Dad.” Her mouth was dry as she tried to make her point. “That means that the baby’s father and I made—”
Archy quickly cut her off. “I don’t want to hear it,” he bellowed. “Besides,” he scoffed, “what do you know about love? You’ve always got your head stuck in some book.”
Justin laughed shortly. He’d always known there was more to Rose than his father gave her credit for. Still waters ran deep.
“Well, her head wasn’t in a book at least one time,” he commented. His father looked at him sharply. Trouble was definitely brewing and he was going to get caught in the middle. “Rosie, tell him who it is before he rides off into town with his twelve gauge under his arm, threatening to shoot every man above the age of puberty.”
Rose pressed her lips together. There was no way he was getting the information out of her. For all she knew, her father could kill Matt with his bare hands. And then someone from the Carsons would kill him and so on, perpetuating the awful feud.
“It’s my business, Dad. I’m a grown woman and I don’t have to tell you if I don’t want to.”
Justin nodded thoughtfully. “She has a point.”
Archy had expected support from Justin, not dissent. “She has a bun in the oven, boy, and that’s a Wainwright oven,” Archy bellowed. “I’m not going to become the laughingstock of the county, with people whispering about us behind our backs.”
Susan rolled her eyes. Her father was too provincial for her to endure. “This is the twenty-first century, Dad. Nobody throws rocks at virgins who fall from grace anymore.”
He looked at her sharply. “Stop right there, Suzy girl, or I’ll have your brother lock you up in your room until you get so old, you’ll be storing your teeth in a glass next to your bed.”
This was going nowhere. Upset, Rose threw down her napkin and got to her feet, ready to run out. “You’re impossible.”
Her father rounded the table like a long-distance sprinter and headed her off. For his age and size, he was still surprisingly agile. He caught her by the shoulders before she could leave the room.
Justin was on his feet, ready to intervene if it came down to that. For now, he kept his peace.
“I’m head of this damn family and I still have a say in what goes on in it. Now tell me who this son of a bitch is who doesn’t have enough guts to face me like a man.”
She looked at his hands on either side of her. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, Archy dropped them to his sides.
Only then did she volunteer any more information. “He doesn’t know.”
Archy’s mouth dropped open as he stared at her. “What is he, stupid?”
She felt very protective of Matt. “I didn’t tell him.”
Archy didn’t understand her. In the world he dealt with, a man was supposed to pull his own weight and own up to his responsibilities. To do that, he couldn’t be kept in the dark. Unless there was more to this than she was telling him. She had been abused, he thought suddenly.
“Why?”
She wished her father would drop this already. “That’s my business.”
“And what happens within this family is mine.” He paused, gathering himself. Knowing that, at least for the time being, it was useless to keep hitting his head against a wall, he backed off. Just a little. “Well, I’m not going to have people flapping their jaws about you like you were common trash. You’re going to live with my sister until this blows over.”
“This isn’t going to ‘blow over,’ Dad,” Justin pointed out patiently. “Rosie’s having the baby.”
Archy waved a hand at his son. “Don’t lecture to me, boy. I know that. That’s just something I’ll have to deal with later.”
You’re not going to have to deal with it, Dad, I am, Rose thought. But saying so out loud would only add fuel to the fire right now. She had to choose her battles.
“But Aunt Beth is in New York,” Rose protested.
Archy loomed over his daughter, in no mood to put up with any more opposition. He’d endured all he was about to from Rose.
“So?” he demanded.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she didn’t want to go to New York, but then Rose thought better of it. Maybe distance from everything and everyone was the best way for her to go right now.
Rose had remained under her father’s roof all of her life. She liked being in the thick of things, close to those she loved, and had no desire to take flight the way so many others had. But now she couldn’t go on living here with her father’s accusatory looks. More important, she couldn’t remain in Mission Creek, running the risk of bumping into Matt when she least expected it.
If he saw her pregnant, there’d be no question in his mind that it was his. If he did do the so-called honorable thing and asked her to marry him, she might not have the strength to say no. And then there’d be a showdown between the two men she loved most: her father and Matt. That was something she definitely didn’t want to have on her conscience.
“So I’ll pack,” Rose finally said. With that, she turned on her heel, leaving the other members of her family looking at one another in mute surprise and confusion.
“In a real short amount of time, Rosie’s gotten to be a very contrary girl,” Archy muttered more to himself than to the others at the table. “Even when she’s doing what you think you want her to.” He shook his head. “Just like her mother.”
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Flynt Carson asked as he stormed into the stables. He looked at his younger brother, waiting for a response.
He didn’t like the one he got.
Matt continued cleaning his tack. He’d been doing it for the past hour. It beat running his Jeep into the ground. Matt rubbed a narrow edge on the saddle. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Flynt glossed over the denial as if it’d never been spoken. He’d watched his even-tempered brother grow progressively surlier with each passing day for the past two weeks. Something was definitely going on.
“Hell, you never were a sweet-tempered kind of guy, but these days, if I were a stray dog or small child, I’d stay out of your way before you kicked me.”
Matt snorted. “Wise thought.” He stopped to pick up another cloth.
Flynt placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, forcing him to stop and look at him.
“Something’s bothering you.”
Matt knew Flynt meant well, but this wasn’t something he could share. Not with any of them. He shrugged off his brother’s hand and went back to polishing the tack. He was starting to wear the leather away. “Nothing I want to talk about.”
Flynt repositioned himself so that he was in Matt’s line of vision. “Maybe so, but the rest of us are getting caught in the fallout of that less-than-sweet disposition of yours and we’re not going to take it for long.”
Matt arched a brow in his brother’s direction. “Then stay out of my way.”
“Not always possible.” As a rule, Flynt didn’t meddle. But family meant bending rules. “Look, if it’s about a woman—”
Matt looked at him sharply, the stilled cloth hanging in his hand. “What makes you think it’s a woman?”