Chapter 25 #2
Once they finished their lemonade, they returned to the kitchen.
Rose carefully pulled down a stack of plates with dark pink flowers on them.
A glance at the bottom and the reference paper told her these also went to Aspen, that they’d belonged to the first bride of Briar House, Aurelia Sophia Hughes.
Her thoughts drifted to Magnolia’s letter, her words of caution.
Willow might have some insight.
“In the letter Magnolia left me,” said Rose, “she warned me to be careful. She wants me to avoid the forest. Something about lights at night, in the woods.”
Willow tilted her head and pursed her lips as she wrapped a teacup. “She wants to keep you out of the woods?”
“Yes.” Another dinner plate went into the box.
“That’s like telling a bird not to fly.”
Rose said, “I know.”
“Why would she say something like that? And lights? That makes no sense.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you. She also asked Finn Murphy to protect me.”
“What?” Willow shrieked as she lost her grip on a saucer she’d just removed from the cabinet. She caught it just before it hit the granite counter.
“That’s what he told me,” Rose said. “She told him to protect me. He agreed.”
“But he doesn’t live here.” Her brow furrowed. “At least not yet.”
“Their old house is going on the market.”
“Maybe you can change his mind?”
Rose climbed up on the chair to reach the next shelf. “It’s Charlie’s decision. He wants it sold.”
“I heard Charlie’s at Wylder.”
“He is. Finn visits him once a week.”
“And he visits you as well?”
Rose shrugged.
Willow beamed, slightly bouncing on her feet. “He does visit you. I’m right.”
Rose focused on her packing efforts.
Willow bounced again. “Spill. I need happy news.”
What could she say? Willow’s eyes looked so hopeful. “The storm the other night. I got caught in it. He gave me a ride home. We talked.”
Willow’s smile faded. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
Another shrug.
“You have a better vocabulary than that. I want adjectives and verbs.”
“Fine. We talked about my engagement. He apologized for being an ass, and…”
Willow leaned over. “And?” There was so much excitement in her voice.
“And we kissed.” Until she’d pushed him away.
“Then?”
“Nothing else happened.”
Willow put a hand to her forehead and leaned against the counter. “Was the kiss bad?”
Rose felt her cheeks warm.
Her sister’s grin was too big. “So it wasn’t bad.”
“No more questions about Finn.” She’d tried not to think of him these past few days. She’d pushed him away, but all she could think of was the way he looked at her, the sincerity of his words. And their kiss, the knowledge she wanted more—it kept her awake at night.
Willow laughed. “I don’t believe it. You’re blushing.”
Shaking her head, Rose put one of her music playlists on the Bluetooth speaker Ms. Tess kept on the counter.
“Party pooper.”
She ignored her sister and reached for more packing paper. There were whiskey glasses to wrap for Thorne.
Two hours later, Rose heard the click of heels in the inner hall. It had to be her oldest sister. Willow had left after they ran out of boxes.
Aspen entered the kitchen, looking like a model for maternity wear in fire engine red and three inch black heels. She didn’t seem to notice the boxes labeled with her name in dark Sharpie. There were eight of them now.
“Hi Aspen, how was your appointment?”
Her expression was pinched. “I need to talk to you.”
Worry nudged her. “Are you and the baby okay?”
She waved a hand, her tone snippy. “Yes, fine. That’s not why I need to?—”
“What about Sunday dinner? Are we?—”
Aspen made a sound of frustration, folded her arms over her baby bump, and glared. “We’re fine. I’ll still call you sister. To call you aunt would be creepy and create gossip this family doesn’t need.”
Relief overcame her.
Rose had interrupted, inexcusable, in Aspen’s eyes, but she needed to clear the turmoil within the family over her parentage.
Aspen asked, “Are you crying?”
Rose didn’t miss the sarcasm. She wiped her thumb under her eyes. “Not really. It’s worried me, this change.”
“Well, it’s fine, all fine, water under bridges.” She patted Rose on her shoulder twice. “Can I talk now without interruption?”
“Of course.”
Aspen refolded her arms. Her expression turned serious. “Be honest. Are you seeing Finn Murphy again?”
Didn’t the townsfolk have anything else to talk about? “We’ve bumped into each other a few times. He came to the funeral with his dad.”
Aspen’s eyes flashed. “I know. Carina Wellington saw you in his arms.”
Carina Wellington again. Witnessing what should have been a somewhat private moment. She was an interfering hag, but that wasn’t the issue.
“I hugged many people at the house.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You hate him.”
Not this again. “I never said that. I was angry with him for not supporting my engagement to Caleb. Turns out he was right to withhold it.”
“That’s an excellent reason to hate him.”
It wasn’t, but Aspen had her own ideas about friendship. Rose shook her head. “Not in my book.”
“But you said?—”
“I was twenty-two. And hurt.”
“But—”
Rose held up her hand. Whatever issues Aspen had with Finn—she needed to nip it now. Her friendships were her own decision. No one else’s.
“What is your problem with Finn?”
Aspen lifted her chin, her words sharp. “He’s not good enough for you.”
Honesty at last. Like Magnolia, Aspen said nothing she didn’t mean.
“You think Caleb was?”
“His family had money. He had money.”
“I’d rather have honesty.”
Aspen flinched, but straightened as if she hadn’t done so.
What happened with Caleb was common knowledge amongst the family.
Aspen studied her, then looked down with a visible swallow.
“I don’t want you struggling. Ever. I’ve seen things, circumstances that made me angry.
I—” She shook her head as if shaking ghosts away.
“Financial security is important. Then there’s his father.
He spent a night in jail for what he did. ”
“That was a long time ago. He’d just lost his wife.”
“The mayor’s wife brought it up at the Women’s League luncheon yesterday.”
Rose wanted to roll her eyes, but such an action would make things worse.
Besides, there was more. She could see it. Aspen’s face, her gestures were wooden. As if a wrong word would break her. Her remarks might carry venom, but they were sincere, something she wasn’t known for.
“Don’t worry about me, Aspen. I know what I’m doing.”
Despite what Willow suggested, what Finn told her, she doubted she’d see him anytime soon.
Aspen did the unexpected. She burst into tears.
Rose pulled her in for a hug. “There now. We’re going to get through this.”
Aspen pushed away and shook her head. “It’s not about Grandmother. Or the Murphys. Gavin—he’s not happy about the baby.”
Any calm Rose felt dissipated. Sympathy and quiet rage replaced it. It took effort to keep it out of her voice. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He wants a boy.”
Of course, he did. “I thought you were having a girl.”
Aspen’s eyes looked glassy. “I am. Both ultrasounds confirm it.”
Rose couldn’t help it. She hugged her sister once more.
For a woman who avoided affection, this time, she clung back.
When they separated, Aspen pressed her hands to her eyes. “He said both ultrasound techs are wrong, that the baby will be a boy.”
Gently, Rose said, “When she’s born, he won’t be able to deny it.”
“No, he won’t.” Worry creased her eyes along with deep sadness.
Was there anything Rose could say to ease her anguish?
Aspen bit her lower lip. “Please don’t tell the others. Or him. We’ve got family brunch coming up. I’d like him to attend. Be around our nieces.”
It wouldn’t help. Her brother-in-law cared only about himself. She refrained from sharing her opinion. Instead, Rose offered a single nod. “Of course. Mum’s the word.”